All the Right Notes by Dominic Lim

Author:Dominic Lim
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing

With me here and the producers’ audition coming up, Dinesh needed logistic help. So Mark offered to assist. Not that he’s ever been a director, actor, singer, or dancer—but he knows more about musicals than even I do. He’s got plenty to offer.

I just hope it isn’t anything more than that.

We.

A ten-sentence email and he used the word four times, each appearance of it brighter than any of the other words on my phone screen.

I force myself away from the main body of the email and open up the attachment. The lyrics to the Act I finale. A song about Tinker Bell’s magic fairy dust. The changes they made did nothing to improve it; the allusions to cocaine are still clumsy and the rhymes are beyond lazy. “Soaring so very high. When we are so very high?” Really? It’s no wonder I can’t manage the motivation to finish composing the last song. I’ve got shit-all to work with.

Still, I know Dinesh is getting nervous. We’re running out of time. At least he was kind enough to not get upset when I told him I needed to come back to California to take care of my dad. Unlike Mark.

“Is he really that sick? It doesn’t sound so bad. One of the partners at work had walking pneumonia, too, and she was back to work after two weeks or so. Why do you have to fill in for him at school? Aren’t they supposed to get a substitute for that?”

“They do have a sub. He’s the band teacher. And he hates choir. Plus, they need to keep preparing for Dad’s concert.”

“What about our show?”

“I’ll finish the last song in California. I promise.”

“Fine. Just don’t be gone too long. We can find someone to play the songs while you’re gone, but it’ll be better if you’re back in time to music direct. It’s your stuff, after all. This show is your big shot. You don’t want to mess it up.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Not in any way that wouldn’t start a fight, at least. The truth was, they didn’t need me like my dad did.

“You just got out of bed and already you check your phone,” my dad says to me. “You kids these days. I’m always confiscating the students’ phones because they’re like you. As if you all cannot live without it. Is there really something so important there you have to check it all the time?”

When I arrived back in California two weeks ago, I gave in and texted Emmett. I didn’t tell him my dad was sick. Only that we needed to start figuring out when he should come up to the Bay Area to start rehearsing for the concert. The Emmett I knew from school would only need a day or two to practice with me and the choir. But as far as I know, it’s been years since he’s sung in a public concert—not since high school. So I sent a text suggesting he come up at least a week in advance.

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