Jason shrugged; he certainly wasn’t the person anyone should go to, seeking the correct plural for a plural like nemesis. “I guess that’s a fair enough reason to name … claim … whatever, a nemesis.” He felt at an mix of sympathy and jealousy at her next words — it wasn’t that his dad had ever not been supportive of his love of music, but it sounded like a wonderful luxury, to be encouraged into playing an instrument like that. Still, if it wasn’t what she wanted, nothing else really mattered. “They wanted you to do the cello, specifically, or did you get to pick that, at least?” He chuckled again, and said mock-defensively, “Hey, we bathe. Can’t do anything about the cooties, but the sweaty’s a temporary thing. Strictly post-show.” That she didn’t know how many guys this hypothetical tour would involve told him maybe he’d been wrong, and her follow-up question gave him an odd feeling of anonymity that really, he couldn’t complain about, even if he didn’t know how to answer it. For the most part, he felt as tough he was living his dream, or at least, the biggest one he’d ever had. Still, there was more to life than work and career, even when one’s career was so enveloping as his was. “I guess I’m trying to figure that out. My dad died in January — it really knocked me for a loop.”
“Picking up yoga, but yeah, that, too, actually.” Since she’d mentioned it, and seemed willing to share, he was starting to wonder, though maybe that was just because it wasn’t somewhere he’d spent a lot of time. “Where else did you go — or was it just Arizona?” It was always interesting talking to someone who travelled to travel, and not to work; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone somewhere that wasn’t least tangentially involved with RICHTER or writing music, except, well, coming home to Eureka. A faint grin broke across his face at her offer, and he glanced down at his legs ( he’d worn shorts; movement shouldn’t be a problem, ) as if to double check, then back at her. “You’d better not be teasing me with the promise of more Oasis,” he told her as he rose, gently setting his guitar on the bench. “I don’t want to disturb your routine any more than I already have, but, how am I starting, here?”
“Eh they didn’t massively care, as long as it’s something that had some amount of prestige to it, could perform in an orchestra or concert hall. Violin, piano, cello, I don’t think they cared. Although now I’m realizing I should have tried to see if they’d let me play like...An oboe or something.” She couldn’t help but snort loudly at the thought of the amateur sounds of an oboe ringing through the pristine Leung household. She couldn’t help but wonder about the stranger’s home, had it been filled with music? “What about you, how long have you been playing?” Though as the man continued and mentioned his father’s death, despite having brought it up himself, she did feel as if perhaps she had been prying. She had never dealt with the death of a parent, her grandma who she had been extremely close with, yes, but she knew it didn’t quite compare. Kids grew up with the innate sense that their grandparents would die, but parents were different. Deep down, when you grew up, it was a rational fact, but you still are taken aback when it actually happens, like you didn’t think it’d actually would.
She had enough friends who had lost their parents and heard them express just how sick they got of ‘i’m sorry for your loss’, that Charlie quickly snapped her jaw shut when that had been her first instinct. “You were close?” she questioned, giving the man space to give as much information as he wanted, whether that be a simple yes or no, or an expansion on the answer.
“Well, my grandmother had always been a Tai Chi bitch. You know, one of the old asian ladies in the park on Sundays, and it had brought her such peace and happiness, so I tried it. Wasn’t for me, so she recommended yoga. And at the time I also didn’t vibe with it, but after I struck out on my own, I needed something to ground me and well, there it was.” That was the abridged version, leaving out lots of parental drama and personal trauma, but she was sure he didn’t wanna hear all that. “But I did a bit, not as much as I would have liked. Up and down the Western coast, ventured into the south and north west a bit. I was planning to maybe do a big haul journey down through South America, but I found Eureka before then and...Well things sorta just fell into place. And now, six years later I’m married and got a house and three dogs and...Maybe it was for the best.” There was the shrug again. But sometimes it did amaze her just how much her life had changed, from living practically on the road, bouncing from job to job, to having all of that.
“I would never,” she responded, hand to her chest as if clutching pearls. “Well, for your quick preview I won’t go into all the breathing techniques, but it is important for you to first take a couple of moments to set your intentions, empty your mind, and ground yourself. Do that in whatever pose you feel comfortable with. May I recommend the extremely cliche one you see in movies? It’ll feel silly and stupid, but i’ve found the hands in the center of the chest is extremely centering,” She imitated the one she spoke of, hands clasped in an almost praying position in the middle of her chest, arms straight and parallel to the ground. “C’mon, show me what I’m working with,”
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