Thursday I Don't Care About You [Renee]

[Devon Wentsworth]

The key to the band room turned with a soft click, the door slowly swinging open as Devon peered inside. It was smaller than he had imagined but that mattered little and did nothing to dent the slowly bubbling excitement within him. He had borrowed the key earlier in the week, it being unneeded by its usual keeper due to the summer vacation. Devon knew he'd still be around some days sorting out the art studio and getting it to his standard, but of course he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to have some much needed and (he believed) well deserved down time. It had been a ridiculously busy few months; he deserved something of a break.

A light sheet covered the treasure in the corner of the room and a grin crept across Devon's lips as he peeled the sheet away to reveal the drum kit underneath. It was old and obviously very well used, but the skins were in good condition and it was clearly well cared for. After almost three months without so much as touching a kit, it was perfect in his eyes. Long fingers ran over the skin of a high tom, and after a few moments taking mental notes of the configuration of the kit Devon rearranged it slightly to suit his style.

The portable stereo was wheeled over beside the kit and plugged in, Devon slotting his MP3 player into the socket on the stereo and switching it on. After spending a few minutes doing some warm ups and getting to know the kit, Devon put on his wrist supports and flicked through the player to select a song. Smiling as one in particular popped up, he set it on a twenty second delay and got ready. It was one he had often played in pubs back home with the band and it had become one of his favourites to play, worming its way into most of the sets they did. As it kicked in Devon found his rhythm quickly, the grin on his lips growing as he got absorbed by the memories and music. He sang along to the song, but without a mic his voice was lost under the stereo and the drum beat.

“Dressed up to the eyes,
It's a wonderful surprise,
To see your shoes and your spirits rise.
Throwing out your frown,
And just smiling at the sound...”


Drums!

[Deleted]

The man was too absorbed in his drum beating to notice the woman in the doorway. Renee had heard the warm-up from down the hall, over in the rehearsal room where she was getting things set up for a choir meeting. While classes were out of session, some clubs still met up over the break, especially those which required a vast amount of discipline and, ultimately, practice. If they could get good enough, Renee hoped to take the group to the state competitions this year. In any case, the disturbance was more than enough excuse to pass by the band room and swipe one of their music stands. She actually did it often, but they always took them back. Plus, while she tried to do it on the down low, every so often there would be a student coming in or out who would give her the "what are you doing here?" glare. Amusing, but she would rather avoid it.

So upon her arrival pursuant of an investigation to the noise, Renee merely pushed the door open in silence and leaned in the doorway, her arms wrapped around her waist and under her bosoms and her bare legs crossed like a clothing model's. Her dress was white, pleated at the waist with it wrapped about with a summer green ribbon that tied in the back. The neckline was high and folded out with a false collar of the same shade as the ribbon, as if she were wearing a blouse underneath the sleeveless white dress. Her hair was pulled back with a pink head-band, exposing the majority of her face which was left with only her bangs to accent. The curls of her auburn hair fell over her collarbone as they tried to break free from the headband which held them back.

Renee waited until the gentleman had completed his rendition of "Friday I'm In Love". Even with his voice lost in the sound of the drums, she could still pick out the melody of the Cure song, playing it in her head along with the beats and backup he had accompanying him through the stereo. Upon the completion of the wonderful tribute, Renee entertained no amount of hesitation to express her appreciation with her one-person applause and genial laugh. "That was beautiful. I didn't think anyone knew how to play that thing."

[Devon Wentsworth]

Devon was too lost in the music to notice the woman's arrival in the doorway, his attention focussed on the rhythm of the song and his subconsciousness drifting back to the pubs and clubs of home. If he closed his eyes he could almost smell the heady scents of beer and fancy liquors, the vague distant undertone of cigarette smoke wafting from the doorway. The sweetness of a woman's perfume as she gyrated on the wooden dance floor in front of the cramped stage, Ben's voice cooing to her as he attempted to flirt and sing at the same time. So many memories from so far away...

As the song came to a close Devon went to flick the MP3 player to another song, but paused as he heard a clapping coming from the doorway. Surprised, he hit pause on the player before looking up to investigate the source of the clapping and soft laugh. Hello legs, what are you doing there?
Still riding on the high from the song, it took Devon a moment for his mind to catch up with his eyes and when he caught himself staring at her red waterfall of hair he put down the drumsticks on the floor tom. A grin crept onto his lips at the compliment; he still had a childish love of having his ego stroked. “Oh, thanks. It's one of my favourites to play but I'm a bit rusty at the moment. It's been a while.”

Devon brushed his dark hair away from his right ear where it was being annoyingly ticklish. He needed a haircut, that much he knew. He hadn't had chance to find a decent hair dresser in Pilot Ridge yet and his hair was starting to betray its natural curliness. He made a mental note to make dealing with it a priority. Normally he wouldn't have much cared, but he was still new and trying to make a decent impression. No point in falling completely into the scruffy, ill-kempt artist stereotype straight away. A thought occurred to him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not interrupting anything, am I? I can pack up if you're needing the room.” He was playing the drums. “Or any of the rooms nearby, for that matter.”

[Deleted]

Renee tilted her head, giving a silent "Hmmm?" as she heard him speak. Oh, an Englishman was he? How cute. "It sounded great to me. You even have a bit of talent for singing. It's something I can appreciate." Renee chuckled to herself. He was like a little boy, the kind that Renee would have played with in her younger years. Somehow, she still had a soft spot for those kind of men and couldn't help but tease them a little. Though perhaps she should try to hold back with this one?

The woman shook her head to indicate that, no, she had not been disturbed. In fact, he'd only given her a good reason to come down to the band room to steal the music stands, though she should probably keep that to herself. Renee curled her hair back behind her ear like a school-girl and stepped into the room, extending he hand to the obviously new staff member. "I'm Renee, one of the trainers. Also the choir adviser. I was just setting up for a meeting down the hall, but you're musical talents stole me away. You should be proud of yourself."

[Devon Wentsworth]

If Devon had been the sort of person to blush, the compliments from the redhead would no doubt have sent a similar colour to his cheeks. However, modest embarrassment from flattery had never really translated to him, it tended to just feed his enthusiasm instead and her words sent a grin splitting his lips. “Oh, well thanks! I'm surprised you could hear me over the drums and stereo. I'm not as good a singer as I'd like to be; there's a reason I only ever did the backing vocals.” He laughed easily, spinning slightly from side to side on the drum stool.

As the woman approached the kit and extended out her hand Devon stood to meet her halfway over it, so she didn't have to completely lean over for their hands to meet. His grip was gentle and friendly, and he made sure to keep his eyes on her face and not wandering elsewhere. “Good to meet you Renee. I'm Devon, the new art teacher and running the art club.” At the extra compliments Devon smiled brightly, his tongue curling in his cheek slightly. He was clearly having little difficulty being proud of himself, but was still lapping up the praise like a cat that's just found the cream. “Well thank you very much! Nice to know I've still got a hang on it after a break away. Do you play anything yourself, or is singing your speciality?”

[Deleted]

Normally, a fellow would be stuttering like an idiot by now, but not this sir. He just seemed to get more excited which was....refreshingly different. Renee's smile grew as he spun on the stool like a big-goofball kid. "I have a pretty good ear, though admittedly, I couldn't hear any of your singing until I got here." And even then it was pretty faint. Knowing what to listen for certainly helped. If Renee hadn't known the song already, she might not have been able to pick it up.

"Oh! The new art teacher! I'd heard we'd gotten a new one, but I hadn't had the time to go introduce myself yet." She laughed at herself and brought a hand to her face to hide a non-existant blush. "I'm so terrible, we have so many new teachers this year, but I'm so busy with my students, I lose track of time, and by the time I realize they're there, well, they're hardly new anymore." Which was mostly true, Renee had a tendency to get caught up in the work she did, especially during the daytime. The small part she didn't mention was that if it wasn't shoved right in front of her or she didn't interact with them much, Renee tended to forget certain thing and people existed.

Renee shrugged, tilting her head to the side and rubbing her hand across the back of her neck. "I play piano. It's practically required when you're directing students to sing like a von Trapp." Her ability with the piano was far from world famous professional, but was good enough to accompany the students in their performances. "But it's nothing special. Some of my students pale my skills in comparison. It's quite refreshing to see them work so hard on so many talents, really." She chuckled as she shook her head, reminiscing. "We were never so disciplined back in my day."

"What about you, Devon? Do you play anything else, or is beating things with a stick your specialty?"

[Devon Wentsworth]

Devon always assumed that he was so confident and unabashed when people were complimenting his drumming because he'd been doing it on stage for so long. Sure they had only really been doing it in pubs and clubs to around 200 people a time at the absolute most, but they had always been well received and, Devon figured, it was kind of hard to be in that sort of situation and not gain a bit of faith in your ability. He was quite willing to ignore that he obviously enjoyed having his ego stroked.

Nodding as Renee explained her busy life and reasoning behind not meeting many of the staff members, Devon could sympathise with her on that. He'd been at Hammel a little over a month now and he still hadn't met very many of the rest of his colleagues. Between the clusterfuck that had been his first week, trying to get familiar with the vast building, getting the art studio to standard and actually trying to make a home in Pilot Ridge, he'd had little time to do much in the way of socialising. Hopefully he'd find a way to remedy that soon enough. “Yeah, I get that. I've hardly been a social whirlwind myself since I got here, which is... odd for me, to say the least. Making up for it now though.”

Devon's head tilted to the side slightly as Renee talked about her and her students piano skills, a soft smile never leaving his lips. “Always kinda envied people who can play the piano. It's so elegant and graceful.” A bright laugh left his lips at her question, his left hand idly fidgeting with the stud in his earlobe. “I'll have you know beating things up is hard work! But... yeah, this is about it. My parents tried to get me to learn guitar instead of drums but I lost patience with it real quick. I did the backing vocals when I played with the band, but” he gave a vague shrug “I'm definitely no Matt Bellamy.”

[Deleted]

Renee had to hand it to this faux Cure drummer, he certainly knew how to take a compliment and had a great deal of confidence in himself. A lot of other guys, especially students, had the tendency to deny their talent fervently and be embarrassed by it. While it was good to be humble, in Renee's opinion, it was usually best to be a little bit of a diva. People see that confidence in you when you're on-stage and it perpetuates itself. The best musicians and performers had incredible egos.

Renee shook her head in disagreement. "Oh, believe me, there's nothing elegant about it. I play like I'm at a honky-tonk," she criticized herself with a delightful laugh in her voice. Renee had learned just enough in her childhood to get by and she refreshed her skills to passable in while in collage. Luckily, her time as a trainer here at Hammel had given her plenty of time to practice and get back into shape over the years, though her style was still rough and unrefined. She listened to him tell about his experience with a playful smile. She could understand losing patience with the guitar though. Renee definitely didn't think she had the talent for it either. Heck, she could barely play Rock Band without goofing up horribly!

But when he compared himself to Matt Bellamy, she had to let loose tiniest of squeaks as her hands jumped to hide her cheeks and face. "Oh my God, Mister Matthew Bellamy!" She shook her head, trying to contain her love of the foreign vocalist. "That man has a voice that just...does things to me." She giggled from behind her hand-shield. "Sorry, I'm such a fan-girl. Don't pay any attention to me."

[Devon Wentsworth]

Giving a soft laugh as Renee described her piano skills (or lack thereof), Devon gave a small shake of his head. “Nah, you can't be that bad if they still let you play and lead the choir. You'll have to give me a demo sometime so I can judge for myself. You've heard me play, seems only fair.” There was a definite playfulness in his voice, that inner teenager that had failed to grow up always bubbling under the surface. It felt good to let it have a little headroom.

Renee's reaction to the name drop did take Devon slightly by surprise and he quirked an eyebrow at her sudden enthusiasm. He could understand perfectly of course, he himself had deeply admired the singer for many years, but he hadn't expected quite such a fervent response from the woman. As she talked about Bellamy's voice, however, the sheen of self-confident ego was slightly brushed off as Devon took a mental step backwards.

The Brit had always classed himself as (mostly) straight, but there were certain scenarios and certain males that had always had something of an appeal to him, and though he'd never really acted on those thoughts he wasn't entirely sure that he'd deny the chance if it ever presented itself. However massively unlikely that chance was. Matt Bellamy was most definitely one of those males. Devon's tongue curled in his cheek slightly, this time with a slight unease, and he found himself fidgeting with the stud in his earlobe. “Errr, no need to apologise... I actually completely get what you mean.”

[Deleted]

"I think it's just because I have the degree. Honestly, if I were any good, I would have that whole "pianist" aura going on and have been picked right up by Julliard. But if you want to watch, and then laugh your little head off, you're welcome to. I'm more of a singer than an instrumentalist anyway." And besides, "You're playing wasn't even half bad," she said with a shake of her head. "It was performance quality, even." Renee may not be able to play many instruments herself, but she certainly had an ear to tell what was good quality and what wasn't. Some people didn't have even that which, in her opinion, was how so many terrible singers ended up on reality shows like "The Voice" or "America's Got Talent". They couldn't tell their own ability themselves and all the opinions they got were from people with obvious biases, like best friends and parents. And then so many of the actual, good people ended up getting overlooked because they had a lack of honest opinion.....but that was a rant for another time.

For now, Renee had no problem stroking the ego of one who deserved it, and especially not of one who's self-esteem seemed to soar so high at the mention of such praise.

But not in the face of such a beautiful and unique artist as Matthew Bellamy! It was hard not be a fan of that voice of his, those subtle and delicately placed notes, those crystal clear wails of his. Ooooooh yes, Mr. Bellamy was definitely on Renee's list. While it should have been surprising that Devon, a man, would even know what Renee meant, it wasn't. "It's so funny, I actually got into him through my brother, Will." Who was totally straight. "He shoved the CD at me and said that any man who could scream like that and then follow up with a hard rock on a piano of all things, deserved even his respect." She giggled, still covering the bottom half of her face with her hands as she backed up and stole one of the nearby chairs to sit in. A music stand stood nearby and Renee pitched the platform horizontal and balanced her arms across it as if it were a table.

"So, Devon," she started, trying to change the subject to something that wouldn't have her all squealy and lacking her normal composure. "You're the art teacher? I take it you're an artist, then. What kind of stuff do you...art?"

[Devon Wentsworth]

If anything, Renee's constant assurances that she really wasn't all that swish on the piano was doing little more than make Devon want to hear her even more. Sure there was a chance she had all the pianist talents of a deaf starfish, but there was also the chance she was just being modest and coy; based on their interaction so far Devon would certainly pin her as that type. Flirty and girly and mock-shy, an elaborate façade to hide what was really behind the schoolgirlish innocence. “I can't promise I wont laugh if you are as bad as you're saying, but I'd still like to hear you some time. Singing too.” Giving a decisive nod of his head, Devon picked up one of the drumsticks and idly twirled it in his fingers.

The smile didn't diminish as he was praised once more; yep, definitely that type. “Thanks, I used to play in a little band back home. Only in pubs at the weekend, but I loved it. Built up quite a list of songs over the years.” That was something Devon was always proud of, his ability to play a wide range of different songs by different bands, to suit whatever pub or club they happened to be in at the time.

It very briefly occurred to Devon that there was a chance that Renee now thought he was gay. He thought about clarifying that misconception but decided to just leave it as it was. If she thought that then, well, what difference did it make, really? Sure she was hot, there was no denying that, but she was also a work colleague and that automatically put her on Devon's 'best to avoid' list. At the end of the day, there was a chance that her thinking that could work out in his favour. “Your brother clearly has good taste. I discovered them waaay back when they were still opening for other bands; my brother used to drag me to every gig we could get to and they were opening for... some band I can't even remember the name of. 1994, I think it was.”

Devon's head tilted to the side slightly as he tried to work out how to answer the question. It was simple enough on the surface, but it was tricky to word his answer without resorting to 'I art art'. After pondering for a moment, he spoke. “I am an artist, but I haven't completed any proper pieces for quite a while. Last piece I did I sold just before I moved over here. I do a bit of a variety of things, but my love is mixed-media pieces.”

[Deleted]

Devon had her pinned, Renee indeed was someone who hid behind her feminine wiles like a lady should. There was just too much behind it for her to let out all at once. But he didn't have to know that. Besides, Renee really was as rough as she claimed. It wasn't bad, but she refused to call it good. But it was a fun style of playing, so she always kept with it.

"That is impressive! It really shows in your playing," and his attitude. Confidence was absolutely necessary in performing and he had it in droves. "Well, with just the two of us we almost have our own small band! Just need a guitarist, now. Know any?" Renee had always wanted to be in a band like that. A classy-like rock band, standing up there and performing like Debbie Harry. Or Ann Wilson. Heck, she'd even settle for toning it down to be the next Karen Carpenter.

She shook her head. "I've never heard of that band. But you're so lucky, to have known them before they were world famous. That's so indie." At this point, yes, Devon's conjectures would have been correct. Renee had jumped to the conclusion that Devon was gay, based off his love for the male vocalist Matt Bellamy, and back up even more so by his obvious immunity to Renee's feminine wiles which she always donned when meeting a new person. Oh, well, that was just fine. She could probably relax more around him that way anyways.

Renee had to laugh to herself at how stumped he was over such a simple question, but thankfully it didn't take long for her to get an answer. "I see. I guess that means you don't have a lot of stuff to show off should someone want to see an example. No?" If he just moved here, then the likelihood that Devon had anything to show, especially if he sold the last piece and hadn't done anything for a while, was slim to none. "Well, if you do come up with any projects in the near future, be sure to tell me. I'm certainly going to want to see it."

[Devon Wentsworth]

At this rate Devon was going to need to have his head deflated before he could fit it back out through the door, but he certainly wasn't the sort to complain about things like that. It was pretty rare his ego got a boost like this and he was happy to milk it for all it was worth. Especially since Renee seemed to be quite happy to keep dishing out the praise like she was. “I don't know any guitarists, not been here long, but I'll keep my ears open. It'd be great to just have a play about again, feels like forever since I last played with anyone.”

Devon had sold his beloved drum kit about a month before he had left England, which meant it had been just over three months since he'd last played with anyone. Considering that before then he'd jammed with his friends at least once a week, he found himself missing it deeply.

The Brit gave a slight sideways smile as she mistook the year he'd first seen them live for a band name, but he decided not to correct her. He gave a small nod instead. “Yeah, it always makes me feel a bit lucky. To have seen them evolve from their first EP's right through to The 2nd Law... It's been a pretty special journey.”

Giving a nod of his head, Devon tried to explain. “I brought a couple of bits with me but not much. You'd be surprised how much it costs to ship your stuff over here from England.” He gave a soft laugh, still twirling the drumstick in the fingers of his right hand. “I've got a couple of pictures of stuff I've done in the past on my computer but nothing with me right now. Next time I finish something” he said, pointing the drumstick at her for dramatic effect, “you'll be the first to know”.

[Deleted]

Regardless of whether Renee was doing it on purpose or not, it was quite natural for her to praise someone of things they deserved praise for. Perhaps it was born from her work as a trainer, as consistent positive feedback did wonders for encouraging young students to feel successful in their training. Small hurdles still moved you forward after all and thus should be counted as victory. "I can sympathize. The best I've been able to manage is the occasional karaoke night lately. It's fun singing for a bunch of drunks in a bar, but it's still no Carnegie Hall." Once upon a time, Renee would have killed to sing there. It was why she went to school for music like she did. But in the end, she came back to Hammel, putting aside that dream and starting with an new one.

"A journey I wish I could've been a part of." Unfortunately, Renee had been in a pretty bad place at that time, so she wouldn't have known or even have had interest in music and bands. That love didn't develop until much later in her Hammel years.

The way Devon was twirling the drumstick with so much ease made her think again that he really was a natural entertainer. She wondered what he would be like on an actual stage. Would she be able to recognize him or did he turn into a completely different person? "I expect to," she accepted. Then a thought occurred to her and her eyes darted to the recesses of her mind. "You say you have pictures on your computer? Well, why don't I just give you my email and you can show me that way? Oh, unless you don't want to, it's completely up to you of course." If his pieces were any good, Renee was just going to give Devon yet another ego boost, so it really was in his best interest. But some artists were pretty uptight about showing pictures of their word as opposed to the actual physical product of their musings. Renee didn't get that kind of vibe from Devon, but you never knew unless you asked.

[Devon Wentsworth]

Despite the fact he was now thirty (Gods, what a scary thought), Devon had never really mentally gotten past his teen years. Sure he had gotten taller and more intelligent and slightly more responsible, but he was still that same young lad who craved attention, loved hugs and constantly wanted to play and cause mischief. If Devon had it his way he'd still be that way when he was seventy. “Karaoke can be a lotta fun, but I get what you mean. Most people aren't paying much attention and there's only so much you can do with an ancient mic and tinny speakers.”

Devon gave Renee a small smile and a sage nod of his head. “You should always try and track local bands that you like, if you can. Y'never know which of them might make it big, and then you get the thrill of saying 'I was there when they played shithole pubs in the middle of nowhere'”.

A dark eyebrow quirked in amusement, Devon giving a soft nod of his head. “I can email them to you, if you'd like. They look kinda pathetic compared to the actual thing, but it'd give you some idea.” Devon never had any problem showing off what he did, even though he did prefer displaying the actual pieces themselves rather than just pictures of them. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers. A sly grin crossed his lips. “I'd like to hear ya sing first, though. Skill display trade, only fair, right?”