“Over two dozen songs?No way. You’d have to be a savant or something.”
Train scratchedthe back of his neck. “I’ve never been crazy about that word.”
“Wait,seriously? My sister told me you had perfect pitch, but nothing about this.”
“It’s no bigdeal really. Some people are great at math or learning languages. My brain iswired to pick up and interpret sound at a higher level than most, that’s all.”
“So, you’re ableto learn songs just by hearing them once or twice?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Wow, that is socool!”
“Of course,learning a song is one thing. Being able to play with feeling and emotion takesskill, and that’s what I work hard at.”
“I’m intrigued,”I said, pointing to Jaxon’s guitar. “Play ‘Tonight’s on Fire.’”
I figured ifTrain couldn’t handle the guitar part from my biggest single, he may as wellget on his bike and ride, but Train picked up the guitar and played the part,flawlessly, note for note, just the way the band had arranged it with Gillduring rehearsals.
“Play the thirdverse of ‘It’s Not You,’ through the solo section,” I directed, and once again,Train delivered on command.
“Of course, onthe recorded version it’s more like this, right?” Train asked, before onceagain nailing the part, this time referencing the album version.
“Play thesaxophone solo to ‘Baker Street’ I shouted, trying to throw him off, butinstead he ripped into the Gerry Rafferty 70’s classic with ease. “Wow, what anamazing gift.” I sighed. “I’m envious.”
“Don’t be,” hesaid. “Every blessed coin has a cursed side.”
“Such as?” I asked.
“Well, for one.I vividly remember every song I’ve ever heard. Even the bad ones. Even the onesI can’t stand.”
“Which side ofthe coin do my songs land on?”
“Are you askingme if I like your music?” Train asked and my heart stopped.
I knew my musicwasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and normally I didn’t care. But for some reason Icared about Train’s opinion. Maybe it was because I knew his brain contained adatabase of every great song ever written and I feared he’d be judging mineagainst them. Or maybe it was because every time he looked at me, I felt asthough he was looking into my soul.
I swallowed.“Yeah. I mean, is it the kind of material you’d enjoy playing for the nextthree months?”
“Truthfully, Ihadn’t ever given your music much thought in the past. I’m sure it’s hard totell by looking at me, but I’m probably not a member of your target audience.”
I chuckled.
“But, afterlistening for a few days, I’ll be honest, your songs are more sophisticatedthan I thought they’d be. Especially the way you’re playing them now with yournew band. I think I get what you’re going for.”
“Okay then, whatabout the other thing?”
“Thekeepingan eye on you,thing?” he asked. “Is that what you mean?”
I nodded. “Whatdid my sister tell you?”
“Only thatyou’ve got a new security team, and that she’d feel better if you had anundercover set of eyes on you as well.”
“And you’re okaywith that?”
“Your sisterasked a favor of the club, and I was happy to help.”
“Is it really afavor if we’re paying you?”
