Sine Equals Cosine

Joseph settled down deciding he did not want to challenge the older man. I caught the smile of a few of the women; Joseph must have been unpopular with the ladies, at least these.

"So young man," the older gentleman said turning to me. "What do you play?"

"What would you like me to play?"

"What can you play?" he asked with a smile.

"My father loved classical; my mother preferred Latin," I told him. "I loved them both."

"Your parents or their choice of music?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Well, I keep telling these children they need to respect the masters," he said throwing a grandfatherly smile at the women. "How about we start there?"

I thought about it for a minute but from deep inside a piece came to me.

"This one time, Elizabeth, for you," I said looking at her. "Sleepers Awake! from Cantata 140."

It was not the most difficult piece I could play from memory; but considering the circumstances, it seemed appropriate. I never planned to audition for anything; practice in the silence of my room a few hours a day was all I needed until Dacia left.

The feeling was the same as when I was a boy, a swelling of music inside until it completely filled me. I barely held on to the mast of the ship I became while the storm raged through me. After I finished, I sang 'Kilometros' (Kilometers) and then 'Toca Para Mi' (Play for me). It did not matter what they wanted. I had whom I wanted; they were part of the price.

"Not what I was looking for," Elizabeth said thoughtfully when the last note faded.

"Not what you were looking for?!?" one of the other women exclaimed. "Are you fucking insane, Elizabeth? If you don't want him, I'll manage him. Can we put out the first album with just Michael and his guitar, Gabriel?"

"What do you mean, Elizabeth?" the older man asked waving away the question.

"It didn't feel like when you sang in the cafe for Dacia," she said staring at me. "You are good. Hell! Shannon's right; you're worth risking putting out a pure acoustic album first, but you played with my heart strings Saturday night."

"I broke them," I said with a smile.

"What?"

"My father called me Stringbreaker because I chopped his guitar strings into six inch strips once," I said, forgetting where I was. "My mother said it was the perfect name when I broke her heart strings with the first song I ever wrote. You're the first person to use those words in a long time."

"You write your own music?" she asked.

"At times."

"You're not making this easy, Michael," she warned.

"So I can leave?" I asked her seriously.

"No," Gabriel commanded.

I shrugged.

"Do you have one of your songs that we can hear?" Shannon asked curiously.

I sighed knowing I was beaten.

"I wrote something last month," I told them. "Enamorado Sin Ti. (In Love Without You)."

There was silence afterwards or maybe I could not hear anything. I wrote the song for Dacia, but I did not have the desire to play it Saturday night. They whispered among themselves for a couple of minutes leaving me alone.

"Are you okay, son?" Gabriel asked coming to stand in front of me.

I gave him a small smile.

"You meant it, didn't you?" he asked. "You really don't care if you ever record an album."

"I had a nice career in IT planned out for myself," I told him.

"A career in IT, is there anybody on that career path that actually planned on it?"

"I did," I said quietly.

"Son, God doesn't throw talent like yours around," Gabriel said. "Do you know what some people would do to be in this room, never mind have everyone here convinced you're the next big thing?"

"I'd give it to any one of them."

"How old are you?" he asked.

"Nineteen," I told him.

"You have to practice for years to play like you do, Michael," he said curiously. "Why bother if it wasn't to make music your life?"

"Music was my life until three years ago. It ended."

"Someday you'll have to tell me what you mean by that," he said with a smile that he should have only given to another old man.

I guess that is what I was inside.

"When I tell it in a song, you'll know," I told him.

"So never," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah, just about then."

-----

Elizabeth caught me at the elevator.

"Don't you have several meetings to go to?" I asked her. "I mean doesn't breaking a new artist take planning."

"Gabriel wants to think about it," she told me stepping into the elevator. "You're more versatile than I expected. He'd like to take advantage of that. He wanted me to ask if you play electric."

"Tell him, I like the way classical violin solos sound on an electric guitar."

"Hmmm," she said.

She leaned back against the wall of the elevator staring at me. I had nothing better to do but watch the numbers fall.

"What is Dacia to you?" she asked halfway down.

"You seem to know a lot about me, even her name," I said. "Why don't you tell me?"

"You could be my next promotion," she told me. "I want to know everything about you."

"What does Dacia have to do with career advancement?"

"Musicians derail, Michael. I also prefer to know my obstacles when I want a man."

I turned to look at her. Three steps were all I needed to press her against the wall. She sighed opening her mouth for my tongue. The bell sounded for the lobby. I stepped away from her. She took a deep breath and leaned over to press the button for the top floor.

"So what is Dacia?" she asked staring at the numbers as they climbed.

"The love of my life."

"You throw those words around carelessly."

"No, I do not."

She was quiet after that. When we reached the top floor, she pressed the button for the lobby again.

"So what am I going to be?" she asked without looking at me.

"You throw those questions around rather lightly."

"No, I don't."

"You are our future," I told her.

"Our?"

I tapped the guitar case against the wall. She looked at it and nodded.

"Want to get something to eat?" she asked.

"In your apartment?" I asked with a smile.

"You're different sometimes," she said thoughtfully. "Like today with your music. It was fantastic but a little cold until you sang about Dacia."

"You knew it was about Dacia?"

"She's the love of your life, right?"

"We're different people with different people, Elizabeth," I told her.

"Who are you with me?"

I tapped the guitar case against the wall again.

"Who does Dacia get to sleep with?"

"The one that loves her."

"Can we trade?" she asked stepping out of the elevator.

She knew the answer to that question so I did not bother replying. It was not a long drive to her apartment. I put the guitar case next to the door and looked around.

"This has to cost you a pretty penny," I said.

"I get paid well," she said pulling out a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.

"I'm not old enough to drink," I told her.

"You're here with me," she said pouring a glass. "Isn't that against the rules of love? Why worry over a little thing like underage drinking when you're breaking someone's heart?"

"I'm not breaking any hearts," I told her. "And I don't drink."

"Any particular reason why?" she asked.

"My own."

"You know the silent type went out of style some time ago."

I walked to pick up my guitar case and opened the door.

"Michael, wait," she said grabbing my arm. "I'm sorry."

She did not meet my eyes when I turned to look at her. I put the guitar case down and closed the door. She drank her glass of wine and poured another.

"Does Dacia know why you're like this?" she asked suddenly.

"No."

"But she could have?"

"You're very intuitive," I said.

She nodded slowly.

"Inquisitive, too."

"I'd like know everything about you," she said. "So does Dacia know why you're like this?"

"A month ago I might have answered her questions," I said honestly.

"But not now?"

"Why do you want to know, Elizabeth?"

"Maybe she can get me the answers I want."

"No, she can't," I said with a sigh.

"Why not?"

"I wasn't what she wanted," I said looking out her window. "Dacia didn't care about answers then or now."

"You're what she wants now though."

"I'm not who I was a month ago. Different people at different times too," I told her. "Where's your bedroom?"

"You're very cocky," she said.

I took a step towards the door.

"That door over there," she said hurriedly. "Why the fuck am I behaving like this?"

"Make believe I'm Gabriel's age, Elizabeth," I said. "You'll deal with me much better that way."

"You're only nineteen, Michael."

I opened the door to her bedroom and stepped inside. I was lying naked on her bed when she walked in.

"No one's this confident," she said staring at me.

"Tell me to leave," I said.

"Fuck you, Michael," she said unzipping her dress.

I did not know a woman could be so elegant naked. I got out of the bed and put my arms around her waist.

"I'm ten years older than you," she protested but not about what we were going to do.

I looked into her eyes; what I had lived was not there.

"No, you're not," I said before kissing her.

Being with Elizabeth was cold fire that burned uncontrollably without destroying. I tilted her head back to kiss her neck. Her breast fit perfectly in my hand. The nipple rose as I passed my thumb over it. I woke the other nipple gently. I turned us around and lay Elizabeth on the bed. There was mystery in her eyes as I got on top of her; she closed them when my lips touched hers. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down. Her mouth opened to take my tongue in.

I kissed a line down her neck until I could draw circles around her nipples with my tongue. She gasped at the moisture and ran her fingers through my hair. I took a nipple into my mouth with a hard suck. She pushed her chest against me wanting more. I switched breasts and got the same push of desire.

I trailed my fingers down her stomach, past her pubic mound and into moisture. She moaned as I opened her lips. I moved my face up until I could kiss her again. Her tongue penetrated into my mouth in imitation of my finger below. Her pussy gripped me tightly for a second and then released. Her nails dug into my shoulder when I pulled out of her. I moved my hand up until two fingers pressed against her clit. I had gathered her wetness so my touch on her sensitivity was smooth. I pushed her tongue back into her mouth with mine. My fingers moved in small clockwise circles. Her legs opened as the pleasure she felt gained a focus. She drove her hands into my hair and pulled me closer to her. I deepened the kiss and sped up my fingers on her.

"Oh God!" she whispered breaking our kiss. "Oh, my God!"

I fucked her pussy with my fingers while using my palm to keep stimulating her clit. Her legs locked around my hand but it was too late. She raised her hips and groaned as the orgasm subsumed her.

"No, please no!" she begged when I began to kiss my way down her stomach.

"Ssshhhh!" I said licking a circle around her belly button.

"Michael, please I need a break!"

"Not yet," I admonished putting her legs over my shoulders.

She smelled like sunflower musk should and tasted almost sweet. I licked up the remains of her orgasm before focusing on bringing her a second one. The first strokes of my tongue were gentle reminding her body of pleasure only a minute old.

"Please!" she whispered.

I sucked on her clit softly. She moaned as I licked it. I let her go and dug my tongue as deep into her as I could. When I gave her clit attention again, she was ready. I pressed the flat of my tongue against her and licked up fast. The flick of my tongue caused her hips to jump and a short gasp to escape her lips. I smiled not having expected it. I did it again and so did she. I licked her ten more times and each time her hips jumped while she gasped. I only stopped because she tried to rip my hair out from the roots. I sucked her clit hard and licked it fast from left to right. She screamed and turned her hips trying to escape. I wrapped my arms around her thighs preventing any motion.

"JESUS!" she screamed as I sucked and licked even harder. "FUCK!"

Her flavor darkened as she pushed her hips against me no longer trying to escape when another orgasm struck her center. Her thighs tightened around my head until I could not hear the sounds that escaped her mouth. It didn't matter, her body was telling me to keep sucking and licking.

Finally, her grip relaxed. I put her knees in the crook of my arms and moved upward. She kissed me through the taste of her passion. Her hand moved down between us to take a tight grasp of my rampantly hard cock. The instant my dick touched her pussy I pushed forward with the strength of my hips. I levered my hands below her body to take a strong grip on her ass cheeks. Spreading her, I pulled back and took everything Elizabeth's body could give me. I swallowed her scream.

It wasn't making love or having sex. It was animal fucking, desperate surges of need. My dick pulsed as I pounded into her without thought to her pleasure. I'd given her two orgasms. It was my turn; her nails ripping into my back wasn't a protest though. I buried my face into her neck, and she bit my shoulder hard.

"HOLY SHIT!" she groaned as her pussy put me in a vise grip.

I bared my teeth fighting through the new tightness of her orgasmic hold. I fucked in and out of her feeling the orgasm begin to grow inside me. She must have felt something because she hugged me tightly with her arms and legs.

"Yes!" she encouraged into my ear. "Cum inside me! Cum inside me!"

My thrusts became shallow at her depth as I drove myself over the edge. I pulled back one last time and thrust in hard.

I burst into her.

-----

"Do you touch Dacia like that?" Elizabeth asked while I dressed the next morning.

She was lying naked on the bed studying me.

"Why do you ask?"

"I like to know my place in the world," she said.

"No."

"You should."

"Why, Elizabeth?"

"That's the way she wants you to touch her."

"It's not the way I want to touch Dacia."

"Did you play and sing yesterday because you wanted to?" she asked.

"Are you psychic?" I asked.

"Intuitive, remember?"

"So what do you want?"

"For you to look at me the way you look at her," she sighed.

"Does any woman want what she has?"

"Every woman wants it all, Michael."

"You can't have it all."

"Dacia could have."

"She didn't want me."

"Don't I get a shot at everything?"

"I know the way out," I said.

Dacia was waiting in my room when I got home.

"Where were you?" she asked.

"With Elizabeth," I said walking to the window and staring out.

"Why?" she asked.

"She can guarantee everything... we want," I replied.

"So you fucked her for it?" she asked.

"I wanted to," I said simply.

"You said you loved me!" she protested with pain in her voice.

I turned to look at her.

"I remember you saying the same thing," I told her. "I also remember kissing you with the smell of another man still clinging to you. I took a shower, but it's okay if you don't want to kiss me."

I looked out the window again.

"You did this to get back at me?" she asked surprised. "I thought you were better than that."

"A musician is only faithful to his music," I said quietly. "I did it because my body wanted her, and it's not my body you want."

"Do you still love me?" she asked.

"Yes."

"As much as before?"

"Yes."

"Lucky for you, I like girls too," she said with a sniff.

I was still young enough for that to give me pause.

-----

Dacia and I walked into the auditorium. There were hundreds of kids waiting to audition. The one on stage was doing his best not to embarrass himself and not succeeding.

"Have you heard of the Latin reality show Protagonistas?" Elizabeth asked walking up to us.

"El Cara a Cara (The Face to Face)," Dacia said with a wicked smile.

"My mother and I watched it religiously for two years," I told Elizabeth.

"Are you okay?" they asked at the same time.

I smiled inside hoping they never felt death's grip on their heart like I had a second before.

"I'll be fine," I replied to neither in particular.

"It's a great opportunity to expose you to the Latin audience," Elizabeth told me. "This show is watched by millions, Michael."

I nodded.

"They're doing another one for musicians this year," she told us. "DMC is putting up the recording contracts so we asked that you be given an audition."

"I thought I pretty much had a contract," I said.

"We want to break you outside the US market first. Here you might be bottled into a single musical category," she said. "We need to make you very visible and Protagonistas is shown in almost every Latin country."

I nodded slowly.

"Arrange for me to be next, Elizabeth," I said as my stomach heaved violently.

"I can't do that, Michael," she said.

"You should've told me this was what you were planning," I said angrily. "Either I'm next, or it ends here."

"Why are you..." she said and then covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh God! You said your mother and you watched the show religiously!"

"What?" Dacia asked putting a hand on Elizabeth's bicep.

I figured on Elizabeth finding out what happened to my family. Her desire to know everything about me would have driven her and all the records were public.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," Elizabeth said regretfully.

A lot of people told me they were sorry; it did not change anything that happened.

"You're next," Elizabeth promised hurrying away.

"What is she talking about?" Dacia asked me.

I walked away, maybe a month before I would have answered her question.

-----

People whispered as I stepped on stage. The order of auditions had been violated, and they wanted to know why. I took my father's guitar out of the case and sat in front of the microphone. They would know soon enough. I adjusted the microphone to the right height and took a deep breath.

"Desde este dia y siempre, para mi mama (From this day and forever, for my mother)," I said into the mike.

'Amiga Mia' is a famous song in the Spanish-speaking world. Alejandro Sanz sings about being friends with a woman, who is in love with one of his close friends. It is not the standard cliché though, just a song where he tells his female friend that her story, her feelings, and her pain are important to him because she is his friend. I sang it from a different place and to a different woman.

'Amiga mia, lo se, solo vives por el,' (My friend, I know, you only live for him)

My first memory is about everything I was for eleven years. I was two and half years old; I had a pair of wire cutters in one hand and my father's guitar on the floor.

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I remember laughing.

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"Michael!" my father yelled when he came into the room to find me cutting the strings into even smaller lengths.

I jumped and cried from the shock. My mother rushed into the room to pick me up. She kissed my tears away and admonished my father for making me cry. He had the remains of the guitar strings in his hands and held them out to her.

"Teach him how to play then," she told him reasonably, kissing my cheek. "He'll have something better to do with a guitar than cut the strings."

Nobody had to tell me what love was. I saw it in my father's eyes; he could do nothing but smile while looking at my mother. I turned to her and saw the same thing in her eyes. I do not know how they had enough room in their hearts to love anything but each other.

I was raised in a home full of love and music.

My father taught me the guitar. His training was classical but as much as he loved the music he lacked the spark of talent to play professionally. His love must have created the talent in me when I was born, as much as he loved the guitar that was my potential. Other fathers might have cracked the whip or done worse, but his smiles were all the reward I needed to practice for hours on end. My mother loved our playing, but my eighth birthday is when she became another focus in my music.