Max Mackenzie (hymnals) wrote in mnhttnprjct, @ 2010-06-15 20:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, alexa weber, maxwell mackenzie |
WHO: Max Mackenzie and Alexa Weber
WHAT: Max and Alexa just want to sing and hang out, Dad. Also, they meet face to face for the first time, and it isn't that weird.
WHERE: Basement rehearsal room of Queens Baptist Church, District 5
WHEN: Late afternoon of Tuesday, June 15
RATING: I'm guessing PG at the most. This is Jesus Boy and Homeless Girl, ok.
MAX: For the past few days, Maxwell Mackenzie had felt a strange weight on his shoulders, possibly from all the extra thoughts that had collected in his head. He fretted about his long-overdue casting news. He thought about Brad and his promise to check up on Aubrey. He wondered about the homeless girl, Alexa, and why she hadn't shown up to Sunday worship services. Most of all, however, he worried about the President's recent statement that the United States was now at war with Texas. It would have been hopelessly naive of him not to have expected it, and even if he was naive, it wasn't hopelessly so. For years, the possibility of the escalation of the conflict with Texas had hung over the entire country's collective head, even if few of them liked to acknowledge or admit it. The Panhandle Conflict had taken place on the opposite side of the state from Tulsa, but Max knew some kids from high school who'd gone to OPSU. He hadn't ever expected to return to Oklahoma after school, but he'd always somehow expected his family and his home to be there. Now, his family wasn't there, and his home was essentially on the front lines. Who knew what could happen? However, all these thoughts cleared from Max's mind when he sat down at the old baby grand to warm up before choir rehearsal (Chris had to prep for a real, paying gig later that night, leaving Max to run the youth choir on his own). From the very first note of the very first scale, he felt as light as a feather. Music didn't require him to think, just feel, and he glided through runs of the week's selection from the hymnbook with ease. Seeing that none of the kids had yet arrived, as usual, he started fiddling around, playing not-yet forgotten songs from his keyboard studio, old favorites from choir, whatever struck his fancy. Eventually, he hit on a chord that reminded him of Tony's famous song from West Side Story, and he launched into an impromptu version of that. "Maria, Maria," he sang, not quite sure of the rest of the words. It had been almost ten years. "Maria... da da da." ALEXA: Alexa was glad for the opportunity to be out. She tried to spend most of the day when Jameson was home away from his small apartment so he wouldn't be reminded she was there. It was politeness in a way, and emphasized the awkward gratitude she felt to him for allowing her to stay, even for a little bit, and also was partly to help make it so she was as unobtrusive as possible, so she wouldn't wear out her welcome too soon. She hoped to have a more permanent place soon, but she still hadn't heard back from the woman at Nolan's church and so far well... she was trying. Boxing on Mondays and cleaning up Shin's gym, along with hanging out where she did dog walking had proved a boon. At the woman's home who owned the small Jack Russell she could spend a few hours often, playing with the dog, watching television or playing on her I-holo. She was thinking that if she had to leave Jameson's soon she could probably use it as a place to catch some sleep for a little while during the day, in case she hadn't found another place yet. The woman was gone for twelve hours at a stretch during the week, so surely she wouldn't notice or probably care. She'd come to practice last week, feeling a little out of place, but today she felt a little more comfortable. She arrived early, setting her bag down in one of the pews and watching quietly as a man at the piano played to himself. When he started to sing she raised an eyebrow, surprised, and wondering if this was her internet friend. "I just met a girl named Maria," she supplied, her voice soft and quiet as she sang the lyrics. MAX: Max looked up when he heard another voice singing along to his (admittedly somewhat clumsy) humming. Her singing along triggered his memory, and he continued with her for the next few bars, stopping at "almost like praying." It somehow felt appropriate. When they stopped, he looked over at the girl again, and smiled. "Hi," he said. "I'm Max. I'm filling in for Chris today, and you are... ?" Please say Alexa, he thought. ALEXA: Alex's eyebrows went up, and she smiled back, thinking he looked much younger than she would have thought, and that was somehow a relief. "Alexa," she said. "We've met. Kind of. Well not officially, but still." She held out a hand to shake his. "You really can sing." It was a sort of blunt thing to say, but after all, they didn't know each other at all. "I mean. You're good." MAX: As he shook Alexa's hand, Max smiled, embarrassed at her compliment. "Thanks," he said. "After all my parents spent to put me through music school, it'd be a shame if I weren't." He chuckled. Mindlessly, he played a simple arpeggio with his left hand. "It's good to finally put a face to the name," he added, after a moment. He scooted over on the piano bench, patting the seat beside him as an invitation. "And the voice. Glad you're coming back to choir. What did you think of the last rehearsal?" ALEXA: Alex hesitated only a moment before sitting on the bench beside him, slipping off the hoodie she was wearing and setting it aside, then watching as his fingers casually moved over the keys. "It was good," she said. "They seem like a nice bunch anyway. Course the music takes a little getting used to again, but I used to sing some in the choirs back in Mississippi, so it's not that different." She put her own fingers on the keys and absently picked out a brief melody. The piano was not her forte, whereas singing and dancing were. "It's strange," she said. "I mean I'm glad you suggested it, but it's odd to be singing with people again." MAX: With his left hand already on the keys, Max played a few chords to harmonize with Alexa's melody. He didn't recognize it. Probably some pop song off the Top 40 Satellite. He never listened to that. "Mississippi?" he asked. "Are you from there?" ALEXA: "Not originally. I was born in Colorado and then my Mom and I moved to Arizona when my parents divorced. That's where we were when... you know. And after I was sick with the radiation and stuff, and they couldn't find my Dad. And so I ended up in a group home in Mississippi." She shrugged slightly, her fingers continuing to pick out the melody carefully, because it was easier than looking at him. "That was where I was before I came here. You?" MAX: Max shrugged, although he didn't stop playing his chords. "I don't have quite as many states under my belt," he admitted. "Oklahoma born and raised, but I came out here to go to Juilliard, and then everybody started coming out this way, so I wasn't about to go back that way, you know?" There was more to the story than that, but half the country had their own 11/17 story, most of them much, much worse than his. Alexa's, for example, made him feel positively blessed -- and he was, when he thought about it. He may never be able to return to Oklahoma, but at least he knew his family was safe. He wondered if he ought to bring up the choir teacher Alexa had mentioned before, where was she from? ALEXA: "Julliard," Alexa said admiringly. "That's so cool." Perhaps it was fate that had put her in Max's way. At the very least she was singing again. Maybe at some point she could start taking lessons again and go back to school and... well there seemed much more of a chance here in New York than there had been in Mississippi, which was why she was here after all. "My Dad was the one that got me hooked on Broadway. I think he probably regretted it later, but I loved it. The dancing and singing, the dramatics. At my old school I always used to work on the plays if I wasn't in choir, and I just... it was my favorite thing about school. The rest was just filler." MAX: "Haha, thanks," he said. "It was a lot of work." And super competitive; he remembered hearing stories from the pianists about finding razor blades between the keys before auditions, and being unsettlingly unsure whether they were true or just legends. At least the voice studio was close, and there was little they could to do mess with each other's instruments. "I was kind of the same way. I did other stuff, but sometimes, it felt like choir was the only reason I got up and went to school," Max admitted. In a way, opera had gotten him through high school (if locking himself in his room and listening to opera in the dark counts as getting through). "Though I wasn't so much into plays. The choir teacher almost had to bribe me to get me to go out for the musicals, but I'm glad I did." ALEXA: Alexa nodded. "I know what you mean. It was an escape sometimes. But also something I loved." Just then people started to trickle in, and she looked over at him before standing up. "I should... I mean we can talk later?" MAX: Max beamed at her. "Yeah, definitely," he said. He glanced over to the clock and saw that he should be getting started just about then. "Hey guys, how are you doing? Chris can't make it today, so I'm running this show solo..." |