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Day 2 - Part 2

-Another small town, Ophelia sighed. -Oh I miss the days of glory and big stadiums. You know, sometimes I worry if they�ll get as big as they�ve used to be.
-Aha, Cara commented, thinking something else. They were sitting in the back seats of the stadium. It was cold, place wasn�t heated because eventually it would warm up of all those people coming in. But then it made Cara to rub her hands together.
-I�m gonna get some coffee, do you want? Ophelia asked standing up.
-No.
-Want at least to come to the dressing rooms? It�s warmer there.
-No. I�m fine here.
She didn�t want to watch Ophelia flirting with the guards in hope of getting into private areas, where boys would be. Ophelia left. Cara looked down to the stage and felt sorry for girls who would have to sit back there in the evening, because the view was lousy. But then again she had learned to know that feeling of a concert rolls over you even if you�re under the stage and all you see is first liner�s bellies. Because they were there once. Cara started to walk closer to the stage. She had to climb over few barriers but even so no one paid attention to her. She was recognizable with her red and purple hair and in such a short time staff had got used of her being around.
Finally Cara got to the edge of the stage.
-Lunchtime! some one backstage yelled and everybody dropped everything from their hands, stopped what they were doing and went to eat. Cara rose to the stage and looked around. It was a mess, like every time at that point. But fours hours later it would be all fine, or close to that so that Boys could start sound check. Cara walked to the middle of the stage. For her it was huge, looking into audience almost made her sick, even if Ophelia had bragging told about much bigger places. There was grand piano in the corner of the stage. Cara already knew that it wasn�t where it should have been, in the middle of the stage, behind the wall. It was only used in few numbers, on everything else they used electric piano and synthesizers.
Cara walked to the piano, sat down and lifted the cover up. She pushed one key and listened how the sound of it filled unexpectedly silent stadium. When the note stopped floating in the air, she pushed another one and then one more and then one more... Until she heard a voice behind her.
-Do you play?
Quickly Cara turned around and faced Greg, keys player.
-No, not really.
-What does that mean?
-I only can play some songs I�ve learned as a kid.
-Would you care to play me one?
-Why?
-For no reason.
She couldn�t say no, so she turned to the piano and played. Song was easy, some traditional melody but she played it well, even if her fingers slipped few times because of the cold and tension. Greg listened her, put his eyes closed for a while, then opened those and looked at Cara�s fingers. When the tune ended, Cara kept facing the keys.
-Have you played a lot? As a children or later?
-I started when I was four. I played for a fun until I was thirteen. Then it got almost too serious and I stopped going to classes. I play for fun few times a year. Or played.
-Not anymore?
-It's been a while since my last time.
-Oh, yeah.
Greg walked around the piano. Cara followed him with her eyes. He looked thoughtful.
-Tell me what you saw as you played?
-Saw?
-I mean, what did you think? The melody? Words? What?
-Nothing.
-No, you have to think something. What is that?
-I don't know.
-So play again.
Cara looked around, little confused because people were coming back to work, but Greg sounded bully. So she did as told and started to play again. People were looking at her and she had to close her eyes. Greg seemed satisfied with that.
-Well? he asked right after she'd stopped playing.
-Well. It's hard to say.
-Did you think about your fingers? Notes?
-My fingers in the beginning. But not later. When it gets to that quick part�
Cara played to show what she meant.
-Then I started to kids in front of my eyes.
-Kids? What kind of kids? Doing what?
-They're running on the green field, chasing after something, butterflies perhaps.
-What kind of weather?
-It's late summer, everything is full green, air is stuffed with smells, bees are flying, birds singing�
-Is there any water near?
-Yes. On the back you can see the house, it's big, a mansion or a castle, white wood or rock, or both. Behind that you can see a glance of sea, it's turquoise blue and bright as the sun touches it.
-And you saw all that?
-Yeah.
Cara was still amazed. Because of Greg's questions and because she really did see that. But she hasn't ever thought about it before.
-Have you ever been in a place like that?
-Like that, yes but not in that place.
-So it's defined as a "real" place, you couldn't replace it with image of something else?
-I don't think so, it's always been the same.
-OK. Well, it was nice hearing you to play. Keep it up, don't lose your talent. Wasting a gift like that is too common.
-Sure.
-Now run along, we have some work to do.

She is looking at the piano as she falls silent again. I am stunned how her story has captured my mind. I want to hear more. I need to know.
-That was about the story before Christmas. They ended their tour and traveled to their family to celebrate few days off. We packed into one truck and drove to Orlando. There's one of the biggest Backstreet Headquarters of the country.
-You didn't go to meet your family?
-What family? she asks and I can't really answer to that.
-What about your sister? I have to ask anyway.
-At that time we both were too mixed up to have even a decent conversation.
-It's sad what happened to her.
-No it's not sad, she says angrily. �It's too damn wrong! She should be... She should be living a normal life. She'd deserve a normal family and a saint sister. But she doesn't have those.
-Have you seen her lately?
-I went to see her last week. First time in over a year. She almost didn't recognize me.
-I'm sorry.
-Well, so am I.

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