Damn, I'm on a roll here. What is that, like 9 days between updates? Maybe I should wait and build up a buffer, but...screw it. This is how Nobadi rolls - inconsistent and unreliable, that's me! Ugh. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter 7: Slow and Steady

"Nice car," White exclaims, gazing in at the console in awe. The jealousy in her voice is easily detectable.

Black's car is a blue BMW 3-series given to him by his parents last year for his birthday. The instructions it came with were very clear: "Use this to mess around, and I'll save you a bucket from the scrapyard to drive instead." That meant no joyriding, no roadtripping, no drag racing, no drifting in empty parking lots, no hanging out the window with a baseball bat launching mailboxes into orbit, no going over the speed limit at all, no fooling around with girls in the back seat, et cetera et cetera.

Not that Black was planning on doing any - well, most of those things anyways, but Mom would even get a little upset if he took it to the movies or to a hockey game. And he doesn't know where White wants to take him, but he has a feeling his mother wouldn't approve of it.

Black grins at White's expression. "Cold?" he asks, and she nods vigorously. Black switches on her heated seat. Within seconds, she makes a happy noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan.

"Maybe I should let Dad get me a new car, if this is what I have to look forward to…" she mumbles blissfully.

"Don't get your hopes up. This costs about...80 grand?" Black says.

White's eyes shoot open. "Did you say eighty? Like, eight-zero?"

Black nods. "Yuh-huh."

"What the hell? How did you afford this?"

Black looks away, uncomfortable. "Money isn't really an issue in my family. We're...kind of rich," he mutters. "My parents will pay for whatever...so long as it fits their ideal for me, that is."

White looks at him knowingly. "So you have to pay for your own piano lessons, and music and theory books too, huh?"

Black taps the side of his nose. "Correct. Which is why I never have enough money to pay Mr. Ziegler."

White giggles. "I can imagine how those conversations go. But anyways - you have SatNav, right?" White punches an address into the GPS.

"136 Carpenter Street," says a pleasant voice. "Please exit your driveway and turn left."

Black frowns. He isn't familiar with the address, or even the street name, but he obeys the SatNav lady.

Black continues to try to pry their destination out of White, but she won't budge. He only stops when the SatNav starts guiding him into a decidedly rough part of town. The roads are unpaved, the houses are seedy-looking and unsavoury characters are peering out from porches and bus shelters at the fancy car driving by.

By the time they turn down Carpenter Street, Black is sweating bullets. It's more of an alley, really, and he can hear his tires crunching over broken glass as he drives along. White is unaffected, humming happily to herself and filing her nails.

"White, where the hell are we?" He says, too loudly.

White glances up. "Carpenter Street. Obviously," she says, as if it explains everything.

Black is about to explode. "Yeah, I saw that part," he growls through gritted teeth. "This looks like the place where Bruce Wayne's parents got killed! I'm gonna get knifed for my car keys as soon as I open the door!"

White bursts out laughing. "Oh man. Get a load of sheltered rich white guy over here," she says, "No one is going to stab you, Black. I've been here a million times. Trust me, there are shadier places in town. Park up right there," she orders, gesturing to a small parking lot tucked into the alleyway.

There's a few other cars in the lot, but other than that the place is deserted.

Black is almost convinced that White herself is going to kill him at this point.

"Jesus Christ, what am I doing…" Black mutters to himself, removing his seatbelt...

"Black."

White places a hand on his shoulder. He turns and sees her wide blue eyes shining at him like pools of water.

"Trust me," she whispers. "It'll be fine."

The sincerity in her eyes and voice instantly calm Black down. He takes a deep breath and relaxes, smiling at her.

"Sorry. I said I would, didn't I? So I guess I've got no choice." He replies serenely.

White beams at him. "Thank you, Black. You have my word that nothing bad is going to happen. So let's go!"

The pair exits the car into the rain, holding their backpacks over their heads to keep dry. White leads Black across the parking lot to a narrow, steep staircase, descending to a metal door. A pink neon sign flickers overhead, and Black can just make out the word Lounge.

They descend the staircase, Black almost slipping and falling twice. As White opens the door, Black is immediately greeted by the singing of a female voice over an acoustic guitar. The sound envelops him as he enters.

"They've started already. We're late," White whispers. "Be quiet when you go in."

The inside is dimly lit and warm. Black takes off his coat, and enters what he instantly decides is the coolest place he's ever been.

It's a lounge, just like the sign said, but it's one straight out of a film. A large stage is the center of attention, with a marvelous Steinway towards stage left. The house is filled with tables, seated at which are what appear to be mostly students from the university. The walls are packed with albums and posters of musicians. There's pool tables and a jukebox on one side, and a bar on the other, illuminated by a big neon sign that says Joe's. Joe doesn't appear to be present behind it, but it hardly matters, because everyone's attention is focused on the young woman on stage.

And what a woman. In terms of physical appearance, she won the genetic lottery and then robbed a genetic bank for good measure. Everything about her is classically beautiful. Her hair is shiny and brown like White's, though not quite as long. Her deep blue eyes are twinkling and mischievous, and her skin is pale and clear. Her form-fitting blue dress hugs her body and accents every curve, showing off generous breasts and hips. She is, by any man's standards, perfect.

But her voice is what Black is really paying attention to, because somehow her appearance is less astonishing. She sings low and silky-smooth, her inflections sultry and saccharine. The song is a slow ballad.

"The lights go out, I am all alone

All the trees outside are buried in the snow

I spend my night dancing with my own shadow

And it holds me and it never lets me go

I move slow and steady

But I feel like a waterfall

Yeah, I move slow and steady

Past the ones that I used to know…"

Black is enraptured. "Who is that?" He whispers to White.

"That's Blue," she whispers back. "Now shush, I wanna hear her."

"My dear old friend, take me for a spin

Two wolves in the dark, running in the wind

I'm letting go, but I've never felt better

Passing by all the monsters in my head

I move slow and steady

But I feel like a waterfall

Yeah, I move slow and steady

Past the ones that I used to know…"

Watching her, it's clear that this Blue loves to perform. That mischievous smile has not left her face once. She seems supremely comfortable having an audience - being the center of attention. The crowd hangs on her every note, and she is relishing every moment of it.

"And I'm never ready

'Cause I know, I know, I know

That time won't let me

Show what I want to show

I move slow and steady

But I feel like a waterfall

Yeah, I move slow and steady

Past the ones that I used to know

And I'm never ready

'Cause I know, I know, I know

That time won't let me

Show what I want to show…"

The song ends, and Blue is met with thunderous applause and whistling, Black being no exception. Blue seems disappointed, not by the reception, but by the fact that she has to leave the stage. She takes as much time as possible, putting her guitar down slowly and taking several bows before disappearing into the wings.

"C'mon," says White, pulling Black by the arm away from the entrance. Black expects her to go find a table for them to sit at, but instead, she drags him towards the stage door.

"What are you doing?" Black asks, perplexed. "We should get seats before—"

"Seats? We aren't part of the audience tonight, Black!" White replies, with a hint of slyness in her voice.

Black scratches his head. "So...you're performing?"

White is about to say something, but changes her mind. "Yeah, sure. I'm performing."

The uneasiness returns to Black's stomach. 'She's definitely plotting something….but what?' His mind feels cloudy, and he's unable to think straight about it.

Backstage, performers are milling about, chatting and tuning their instruments. White leads Black past all of them to where Blue is having an animated conversation with a guy.

"-C'mon, it'll be funny," whines the guy. He's about a head shorter than Black, wiry and narrow-shouldered, with messy black hair covered by a backwards ball cap and an outfit consisting of a baggy sweatshirt and cargo shorts.

"No way, skater boy," says Blue. "Keep the goofing to your own stupid act, don't invade someone else's."

"But he's going to play Bach! No one wants to hear Bach here-"

"Ahem," interrupts White.

Blue jumps up and gives White a hug. "There you are! I thought you weren't gonna make it," she exclaims. "Did you get here on time to hear me sing?"

"Yes, Blue, it was gorgeous," gushes White. "Where are Red and Green? I thought you were performing with them tonight."

Blue waves her hand dismissively. "Ah, they got into an argument and both quit the band again," she replies. "They'll be back by Wednesday. Bet on it."

"Ugh. Men," White says sarcastically. "Speaking of men, I brought one with me - the one I texted you about."

Blue turns to look at Black for the first time. She looks him up and down, appraising him like a collector would look at coins. "...I see. So that's how it is, eh?" She says finally, and turns to put her mouth to White's ear. "White, you didn't tell me he was adorable," she whispers, loud enough for Black to hear.

White jerks back, blushing heavily. "I-I hadn't thought about it, Blue! And it didn't come up, and…" she puts her head down, refusing to meet Black's eyes.

Blue laughs heartily. "So easy to embarrass, this one," she says to Black, who is turning red as well. Blue flashes him a genuine smile. "I'm Blue Mackenzie. Nice to meet you," she giggles. "So you're this mystery pianist that White's just met, yeah?"

"Uh...I suppose so," Black says sheepishly. "I dunno about the 'mystery' part, but...I play piano."

Blue looks at him expectantly, but he just stands there awkwardly, unsure of what else to say.

"Righto," says Blue, finally releasing him from the silence. I gotta go announce the next performer. Here, talk to Gold while I'm gone - maybe you can talk some sense into him." And with that, she heads back out on stage.

Black looks over to White, who still won't meet his eyes, and then to Gold, pouting silently.

"So...your name is Gold?" Asks Black. "Inter-"

"Can you believe that she won't let me tell the audience to throw stuff at Cheren?" Gold explodes. "It's comedy genius! Stuck-up woman." He sniffs. "Yeah, I'm Gold. Well, technically I'm Michael. But call me Gold."

Black is dumbfounded. Eventually, he just says "Cheren? He's here?" He can't really imagine Cheren Kovachik going anywhere near a place like this.

"What? Oh, you know him? Yeah, he's here somewhere. He's performing right after me, and I had this whole bit ready to go, but he won't go along with it. What a bore. Why would you want to play Baroque music in a place like this?"

"We can't all appreciate the genius of twelve-tone music like you, Gold," White says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She seems to have finally recovered from Blue's teasing, and her face has returned to its normal colour.

"I wouldn't play that here, though. You'll see." Gold's face breaks into a wide grin. "My act is gonna bring down the house. You watch."

White looks at Black and rolls her eyes. "Whatever you say." she says.

Blue returns to the wing and rejoins the conversation. "Right, there's a bunch more acts before all of yours," she says. "Relax for a bit," this is directed at Black. "Have fun! That's what we're all about here. I gotta go get changed." And with that, she's gone again.

'Any of yours? Why not "either"? Wait…'

As Black watches Blue go, the puzzle pieces fall into place in his head. White's behaviour earlier, the fact that he is allowed backstage, and now the way Blue just worded her sentence...suddenly it all makes sense.

Black turns to White. "So," he says, ice in his voice. "When were you planning on telling me I'm performing tonight?"

Blue's song is "Slow and Steady" by Of Monsters and Men. What a great name for a chapter, Nobadi - just use the song someone sings in it! Oh well. Chapter titles are not my strong suit.

Twelve-tone music: I'm not too sure what actually defines the Twelve-Tone school of musical thought, but in essence, twelve-tone music is music that doesn't depend on any key signature, instead using all twelve notes of the chromatic scale. In contrast, regular music listened to by people who aren't completely mad uses just 7 tones, with any of the other 5 used being "Accidentals" - notes which are not a part of the key signature used in the piece.