Sneak peak for next chapter in Duetto Allegro

Adagio/Interview and Cigarettes

The worst part was the numbness. It was easy to tell when she would there would be pain; she couldn't feel her hands before. Ironic, almost—numbness leading to pain. But true. Her hands lost feeling, making it difficult to hold anything for a long period of time. She rested them on her desk, trying to relax.
Octavia looked at her clock—she still had ten minutes till her next meeting. Enough time for the pain to come and go. She thought back to when she played her cello, sitting at the end of the row in the symphony. The lights in the hall were always too bright, and her suit would chafe her neck. Everyone was getting ready, tuning their instruments, flipping through music sheets, the bass emptying spit valves, and the conductor readying himself. They played a quiet overture as the audience walked in, and then the real piece started. It started slow, building up and pacing—the conductor would motion his arms and the piece would suddenly burst—a mixture of melody, power, and beauty. They repeated over and over, building while keeping the audience entertained. Octavia prepared herself; her solo was coming up. She lifted her arms up, and started to play. The bowstring flicked back and forth; her arms and wrists were in constant motion, playing with speed and elegance. She was coming up on the ending of her solo—the finale would follow—when she dropped her bowstring, clenching her hand in a tight ball. It bounced on the ground; its clatter echoed in the halls until there was only silence. A sharp pain shot through her other hand, and she let go of her cello.
It fell.
She sat, her hands in fists, whimpering softly.
‘…tula?’
A voice.
‘Ms. Vitula?’
Her head jerked up; dreaming. She had fallen asleep on her desk.
‘Sorry, I’m not sleeping well at night,’ she mumbled, feeling the pain in her hands leave, ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I just came to tell you that the musician you were going to interview is late, and I wanted to know if you needed me to get you something for lunch.’
Octavia knew that she’d forgotten to pack anything to eat, and she was definitely hungry.
‘All right,’ she passed a few bills to Lyra, ‘just pick up a sub. Oh, and get something for yourself too.’
Lyra nodded, and left the office.
So much for the concerto.

Fuck me.
Jogging through the downtown crowd, Vinyl checked her watch again. 1:21 PM. She sighed, trying to remember which office building was the one she needed. She moved out of the crowd, leaning against a looming skyscraper. Come on, I can’t lose this chance. What the hell was the name of the street? Something with a c…
Crescent.
Hell yes.
She turned to a man in a suit walking past her:
‘which way’s Crescent Avenue.?'
‘oh, back one street, then… a right, followed by a left.’
‘Thanks!’ she said, turning on her heels and bolting. Okay, just calm the hell down. You're not that late. Besides, what the worst that could happen?
No food. No money. No more sex and cigarettes.
I already knew that.
This job is important.
Fuck! I know that!
Act like it.
Hey, me?
Yes?
Shut the fuck up.
Vinyl lowered her head as she walked down the road. She was tempted to grab another cigarette, but she knew that it wasn't the best smell for her job interview. Besides, my clothes stink enough anyway. She pushed her packet back into her pocket, and continued walking. Her eyes were facing down, which was the only reason she saw her. No-one else wore green sweatpants like that.
Vinyl did a double take:
‘Lyra?’
The figure in sweatpants turned around. She gasped.
‘Holy shit. Vinyl!’
Lyra ran at Vinyl, throwing her arms around her—something Vinyl had never enjoyed. She pulled Lyra’s arms down, staring at her through her violet shades.
‘Been too long, Lyra,’ She said with a grin.
‘I know! I haven’t seen you since high school. What have you been doing?’
‘DJ’ed, playing at small gigs, enjoying life I guess,’ she shrugged, ‘what about you?’
‘I… I’m currently working as a temp. I mean, for now! I should have, well, something…’ she trailed off, trying to think of something to say.
‘Sounds like the dumps.’ Vinyl cut in, trying to avoid silences.
‘It’s not that bad, really! My boss is really nice.’ She paused, thinking of their earlier talk. ‘And it’s pretty good pay too, considering.’
‘Whatever works. Hey, is your band still around? Man, you guys rocked back then.’
‘It was never my band Vinyl, but yeah, I think I heard something about getting back in a few days, something like that.’
‘The whole reunion get-together and shit?’
‘Apparently.’
They stood in silence for a moment before Vinyl asked, ‘hey, where were you off to in a hurry?’
‘Oh, I was just getting some lunch for myself and my boss. What about you?’
Oh shit.
‘Shit! Sorry Lyra, I have a meeting, gotta run!’ Vinyl turned around, started to run down the street.
‘Good luck!’
Lyra thought to herself:
At least she’s doing well.
She continued down the street in her green sweatpants.

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and that's the preview! now, I should have this chapter done within a week or so, just needed to finish writing the interview and get it to my editor. so I hope that I can get it done as soon as possible, for you guys! and remember, this part hasn't been fully edited yet, so it's a bit rough.