Brown Eyes
As soon as I opened the door to Sit and Spin Records, the sound of loud, discordant punk music hit my ears. I knew that if he was left to his own devices, that was all my boss Joey would play in the store.
From behind a stack of used cds, Tobias had to shout to be heard over the racket. “Hey, Colby! All hands on deck today, huh?”
I had to laugh, because I knew as well as he did that still wasn’t many hands. The two of us were usually the only workers in the store all morning until whenever Joey wandered down from his apartment on the second floor.
Despite the short staff, album release Tuesdays were kind of a big deal. We did our biggest business in rare vinyl and cd trades, but there was a section of new music near the front, and new releases had to be at the very front every week.
“Yup, ready for the rush,” I replied, noting that it was still so early that we didn’t have a single customer. “The new releases are in his office, right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Tobias replied, knowing I hated that one holdover of his Tennessee upbringing.
He’d come to New York fresh out of high school with dreams of fame, and although his band played a few concerts here and there, he’d worked at the record store longer than I had known him. In any case, he was almost a decade older than me, and twenty three was definitely too young for anyone to call me ma’am.
I watched Tobias wander off with used cds piled high in his arms, then made my way to Joey’s office to find the box of new releases. The office was in a constant state of chaos, but the box was easy enough to locate, sitting right on top of the worst of the mess on Joey’s desk.
Sometimes I wondered how, with so little organization and such a small staff and costumer base, he even managed to keep this place open. The easiest answer was that Joey didn’t really need the money. His family didn’t approve of his lifestyle, spending his younger years touring with any number of punk bands, but they didn’t disapprove enough to cut him off. The record store was really just a hobby for him.
The truth was, I barely needed to work there either. After my parents’ death, I’d inherited everything they owned, including a huge insurance payout. It had been enough, along with my scholarships, to put me through the music program at NYU, but I didn’t like the assumptions people made when they realized I wasn’t there on financial aid. So I took the first job I found, which happen to be at Sit and Spin, and hoarded my paychecks for a time when the money I hadn’t earned would run out. Since a degree in music didn’t have anyone champing at the bit to hire me, I found myself still working there even a year after graduation. It was a fun job, though. Music was, as cheesy as it sounds, my life. When I wasn’t busy, I scoured the shelves for new and old bands to add to my collection.
That particular Tuesday, few of the new albums caught my attention. We always added at least one to the shop’s playlist for the day, and it was usually my job to pick. I dismissed the hip hop right away, then the techno. Either one would be just as jarring as Joey’s punk. The new Sigur Ros would be okay, I decided, but I didn’t want to listen to it all day. At the bottom of the stack, I saw a new Hanson album. They weren’t a band I had listened to very much, since I was never the teenybopper type, but as a music nerd, I was aware they had been indie for a long time. Even Joey couldn’t fault me for adding them to the playlist, I decided.
By the time I had copied those albums to the computer that fed our PA system and arranged the shelf of new albums, business was starting to pick up. It still never really reached a level I would call busy, so when I saw one of my friends slip through the door, I knew we would have at least a few minutes to chat.
Avery had moved to New York to study art a few years ago, and she wandered into Sit and Spin one day while looking for an art supply store. She was so bubbly that it was hard not to be friends with her, even though she and I really were total opposites. She came from the midwest, but she always appeared more cultured than that to me. Avery was the sort of girl people called a classic beauty, the kind who looked perfectly normal in vintage dressed and bright red lipstick but didn’t really need makeup at all. I was the type of girl who hid behind tattoos, hair dye and eye liner.
Just as Avery approached the cash register, the playlist shuffled to one of those new Hanson songs, something with lots of synth and Shakespeare references, and a strange look crossed Avery’s face.
“Ave? You okay?” I asked.
She nodded, but the strange look remained on her face.
“Okay, well… do you need to sit down?”
Finally, she snapped out of her trance, and, to my surprise and confusion, laughed. “You do know this is my brothers’ album, right?”
I stared at her. In the three years I’d known her, it had never occurred to me that she was one of those Hansons. I suddenly felt like an idiot for not making the connection.
“They’re actually in town tonight for the album release,” she added. “I can probably get you into the show, if you want.”
“Sure!” I replied with an enthusiasm that didn’t really suit me. I was enjoying their new album, though.
Avery’s face turned a little more serious again. “You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you I was related to them, are you? I didn’t really lie, it just… never came up.”
I shook my head. “No, I mean… it’s not like I’m a big fan or anything, I just put the album on since it came out today.”
“But you’ll still come to the concert, right?” She asked, and I nodded. “Great! It’ll be really fun. They put on an awesome show.”
Her enthusiasm was catching, and I found myself really looking forward to the concert. I had been to more shows than I could even count, but I had a strange, nervous feeling about this one.
Despite all of the concerts I’d been to, I really didn’t know what to expect from a Hanson concert. Avery and I were in the VIP section, which thankfully meant we were able to bypass the line of women that stretched down the entire block. As soon as we found our spots, I was bombarded by her relatives. They all knew her fiance Malcolm, who had met us outside, but I had to be introduced to the whole family. There were parents, sisters, wives, children and more names than I really trusted myself to remember. My head was spinning even before I took a sip of the rum and coke Avery had slipped away to buy for me.
I didn’t drink much, though. Two drinks was my limit when I actually wanted to pay attention to a show, and this was one I definitely wanted to remember. From the second the band hit the stage they had my attention. It wasn’t just the music or even the insane energy of the crowd, it was just something about them and their stage presence.
Apparently, I was a Hanson fan and I’d never known it.
What I really was struck by was how each of their different personalities worked together. The guitarist was calm and collected, but he clearly knew he rocked. The keyboardist, who did most of the singing, just exuded sexuality. And the drummer… the drummer was something else entirely. He was technically skilled and fairly restrained, but from his flexing muscles to his wild hair, you could see him yearning to let loose. When he sat down at the piano to play the song I’d been humming all day, I felt myself melting. He was such a paradox—wild rockstar hair and this soft, smooth voice. I could see that contradiction running all the way through him, and I found myself wanting to unravel it… to unravel him.
Juliet, you are a drug and it is quick
And with a kiss I lose my senses
Juliet, you are a fire, I am consumed
Tonight I’m dying in your arms
All too soon, the concert was over. I wanted it to last all night, but two hours had passed in what felt like only seconds.
While the audience was still milling about, we were escorted backstage. I was still on a high, my head still swimming. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t been backstage at a concert before, but this still felt different somehow.
I followed the long line of Hanson family members into the green room, feeling like I had to stick out like a sore thumb in the sea of blonde. Malcolm had dark hair, too, though, and so did the wives I’d been introduced to. They were nothing like me, though; one was the sort of perfect supermodel woman who could have walked off a catwalk instead of just changed a diaper, and the one look just looked like a mom. Neither of them looked anything like me, and I started self-consciously tugging at my short skirt as I watched everyone rushing into the room and reuniting as though they hadn’t seen each other for years rather than only hours.
Another round of introductions started, and I tried to focus on all the new names. The drummer, who I learned was Zac, was even more striking up close. He smiled and shook my hand the way I was sure he did with every new person he met, but it still made me feel like the only person in the room, maybe even the entire world. My entire body felt like it was on fire, starting with the sparks that passed between our hands and going all the way down to my feet.
Juliet, I feel so dangerous
Looking in your eyes is perilous
But I don’t care ‘cause I would die for love
“And this is Colby,” I vaguely heard Avery say. “I’ve told you guys about her, I think. She majored in music.”
“Oh, you’re a musician?” One of the other brothers asked and it took all the willpower I had to peel myself away from Zac and focus on answering the question.
“Umm, yeah,” I replied. “Violin, piano, guitar… I sing a little bit, too.”
Avery nudged me. “She’s being modest. She’s great, you guys.”
If I hadn’t already been blushing, I definitely was by then. My blush only deepened when Zac gave me another big smile. “So, did you study one of those instruments, or…?”
“A little bit of everything,” I replied. “Performance, history, even more behind the scenes stuff. Music business stuff.”
I had a feeling I was rambling, but he seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. So did everyone else, but I couldn’t seem to peel my attention away from Zac’s big, dark eyes. They were kind, but there was something else in them that I couldn’t quite place, some depth that I wasn’t sure he wanted revealed, but still I could see it.
While we were discussing the state of the music business and what it was like to work at an indie record store, another tall supermodel of a woman walked into the room. I didn’t think I’d seen her earlier; I was certain I would have remembered if we’d been introduced. She had the sort of long hair you could tell she worked on for hours to make it look so carefree, and a wide smile full of perfectly white teeth that grew wider when it fell on Zac. As tall as she was, she would have been an imposing figure at any time, but right then, with a big pregnant stomach not concealed at all by her empire waist dress, she just commanded attention.
“Oh, Colby,” Avery said, suddenly reappearing at my side just as this new woman slid in beside Zac. “This is Zac’s wife, Kate.”
I had known it, had just had a sinking feeling, before she said it. When the word wife actually left her mouth, I felt my stomach drop the floor. He hadn’t been flirting with me; he’d only been friendly as he would be with any fan or random girl he met. It hadn’t meant anything special.
I had just been foolish to think otherwise and to assume I really saw anything at all in those brown eyes.