Yoko

Billie returned to his pacing, Adrienne returned to biting her fingernails, and Mike kept looking nervously out the window at the breaking dawn.

And then the front door opened, slammed, and Tre's voice boomed into the kitchen.

"I left my heart....in SAN. FRAN. CISCO!"

Mike and Billie exchanged astonished looks, eyebrows raised. Adrienne sighed, rubbing her forehead.

Tre waltzed into the kitchen, snatched a beer out of the fridge. He spun around Billie's immobile form, planting a quick kiss on the shocked lead singer's cheek as he retrieved the bottle opener from the drawer.

Whistling off-key, Tre popped the cap, chugged the beer and then smacked his lips several times before realized that everyone was staring at him.

"What?"

Mike's jaw hit the floor.

"Tre, you burst out of here yesterday pissed as hell. We haven't heard from you since then. And all of a sudden you appear out of nowhere all sunshine and cream puffs?"
"If that's a crack about my weight, I resent it." Tre said, a huge smile on his face.

Adrienne leaned over and whispered into Mike's ear, "Do you think he's on acid?"

"NO, I am not!" Tre snapped.
"Then what the hell is going on?!" Billie shot back.

Tre smiled.

"I've met a girl."
"Don't you mean, I've had some sex?" Adrienne's voice was like ice.
"Tre, what have we always said about prostitutes?" Mike asked in exasperation.

"You're all very funny, but you're all way off base."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah. Really," Tre replied.

There was a short pause, while Tre stared at his friends, and they stared back at him.

These were the people he trusted. He trusted them with his life, with everything he had. He'd spent the better part of his life with them, making music, playing shows, goofing around.

And yet...

He wasn't sure he wanted to tell them about Jorah. Something in his mind reasoned that telling them about her would lessen what they had, make it cheap somehow. That if he told Mike and Billie about her, then she wouldn't be his anymore.

"I've met a great girl, we're in love, and I'm taking her to dinner tonight!" He declared, deliberately leaving out names.

He watched as they exchanged raised eyebrows.

"Tre..." Billie said slowly. "We've got that meeting about the tour tonight..."

Shit.

Tre had a moment of panic, then he shrugged.

"You guys don't need me to be there for that. I mean, I'm not the decision-maker in the group. As long as I've got a drum kit and a good amount of sticks, I'll be good."
"But, Tre, we're gonna pick out stadiums-" Mike began.
"I don't care where we play." Tre cut his bandmate quickly. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, I gotta go shower and change my clothes."
"But-" Billie tried.

But the door was already closing on Tre's departing figure.

***

"I can't even believe I left my jacket here." Tre muttered, shouldering his way through the crowds of people on the sidewalk as he raced towards the studio.

He dashed up two flights of stairs and burst into the booth.

And was greeted with the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful music he'd ever heard.

***

She was small with short black hair that stuck up in a fauxhawk, seated at a grand piano with her eyes closed.

Her fingers moved steadily across the keys, weaving a melody that spoke of heartbreak and sorrow and undying love, kisses in the summer sun, and lying in tangled bedsheets, panting, with every last hair out of place.

It was mesmerizing, and Tre could only stand there, watching her, until the last few strains of the song faded away, and he could breathe again.

***

"Hello," she said quietly, not opening her eyes yet. Her voice was low and thrilling.
"Hi," Tre whispered, breathless.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. Her fingers hadn't strayed from the keys, giving him the impression that this was only an intermission, and the song was still waiting, crouched in the shadows, ready to go racing on once he had left.

"I'm Chiyo. And you are Tre Cool."

Her voice was polite, yet a quick chuckle slipped from her lips as she looked at him.

"That..."
"It was something I've been working on for almost six months."
"What is it called?"

Her lips curled into a smile.

"I haven't named it yet. I call it 'Summer Rhapsody', until I think of something better."

She paused, adjusting her seat on the piano.

"Would you like to listen to it? You're quite a good musician, and I've always had issues with rhythm...?"

Jorah barged suddenly and rudely into Tre's mind, almost, but not quite, breaking the spell of the song. He shook his head, ruefully.

"I've got a previous engagement, sorry. Perhaps another time?"

She nodded, as though she'd been expecting this, and looked at him.

And he saw her eyes.

They were a stunning blue-gray, shimmering, almost iridescent in the dim studio light. They stood out like beacons against her pale skin, seeing through him. She could see everything, or at least, Tre thought she could.

She smiled sadly.

"I'll be here if you need me."

And then she was suddenly gone.

The silence was unbearable.