<div style="text-align: right"><b>Thursday<br/>
8 - 10:30 pm.<br/>
<i>The Cave</i>.<br/>
Nowhere. Somewhere near the middle.</b>​</div>There was something about singing and playing - either the guitar or the piano; Lexi was lost, submersed in the moment and there was no one else there for her. She moved between the two instruments easily. Lexi loved both the guitar and the piano because – for her – it was just all about the music. If she could, Lexi would take the time to learn every instrument. Music, she had always believed, fed her soul and it soothed her. More than anything, Lexi was a surgeon – and in the Operating Room, she experienced something very similar to what she felt now. To her, surgery was music; illness, disease, the reasons she needed to perform surgery? Those were discordant notes in the beautiful symphony of the body and she worked to make harmony.<br/><br/>It was so clear to her, yet she had never told anyone that. Not even Sandra, her best friend. It was intensely personal, the way that she experienced her job. In the Operating Room, in this room, there was no one else. There was just her, and the instruments in her hands – and whichever place she was in, she made music.<br/><br/>The set she’d prepared were some of her favourite pieces to sing, to play. Suzanne Vega, Billy Joel, Sting and the Police – these were moderately well-known, she figured. A couple of songs by Evanescence, the Eurythmics and then, she finished with some Natalia Imbruglia and Alanis Morissette.<br/><br/>So she stood while she played the guitar and sang. While she did that, her eyes were closed and her body swayed gently, side to side. As she moved to the piano, she put her guitar on a stand next to the standing mic, and then she sat at the piano, perching on the stool. Lexi sat with a perfectly straight back, her long hair falling down her back. Again, as she played, her eyes were closed; however there was no movement in her body, she simply remained still as her hands danced over the keys. There were no pieces of sheet music, no pages with the lyrics – Lexi wouldn’t be able to use them, so there was no point having them. Always, she’d played with her eyes closed and that had caused concern among a number of her teachers, but it was how she played.<br/><br/>Often, she’d smiled as she said that it was a good job the same thing was not true for surgery.<br/><br/>The lights which Vince had arranged, bright and pointing at her, meant that she could not see who was in the audience anyhow. But in a very real way, it simply would not have mattered. Lexi may as well have been on her own in her living room for all that she knew about – much less cared about – the people there. Her song choice spoke a lot about her; gentle, haunting melodies which told a story – always, there was a story to her music. She had considered performing some of her own pieces, but it didn’t feel right for the first set.<br/><br/>Lexi was alone on stage. She didn’t have the sort of presence that some performers have, she didn’t do charismatic speeches or funny stories in between the songs. Simply, she had a beautiful voice, and a talent for playing. But, it was more than that. Lexi sung and played from her heart; as an individual she was very much in touch with her own feelings, her internal processes. It meant that, when she performed, her performance was honest.<br/><br/>When she finally finished, Lexi looked up and blinked briefly. She seemed surprised to see the people there and she certainly was surprised at the applause and cheers. They seemed to like it and she smiled. “Thank you,” Lexi said softly, then, “Good night.”<br/><br/>And she left. Vince was delighted – more than he should be, she thought, but Vince recognised real talent when he saw it and he was keen to discuss with her that she would be back the next week, a regular slot. They hashed out details and then Lexi refused the offer of free drinks and a cab home, and she got in her car and took herself out of there.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><b>Thursday<br/>
11:45pm<br/>
At home.<br/>
Nowhere. Somewhere near the middle.</b>​</div><br/>Cradling the cup in her hands, Lexi was well aware that the hot chocolate was now, in fact, gone-cold chocolate. Still, there was a comfort in the familiar feeling of it and she really was mostly ignoring it. It had been good to be part of the events this evening – Lexi would be the first to admit that she had missed performing. Music was almost as much part of her identity as her job was.<br/><br/>She had to admit that she wasn’t entirely sure that she had time for a romance. Was that even what Raymond had been suggesting? If it was, was she interested? Lexi really wasn’t sure. He seemed like a nice man, but every time she looked at him would she remember his wife?<br/><br/>Come to that, Raymond was a father – which meant he had a child, of course. Lexi liked children. Jakob seemed like a lovely young man. But, if she wanted to be a mother, she wouldn’t be a surgeon. Children were demanding, self-absorbed and – more than anything – they continued to be so long after they’d gotten over being incontinent and incomprehensible.<br/><br/>Yet.<br/><br/>He seemed like a nice man – a good man, and heavens knows they were rare – and he gave her a sense of excitement, a frisson of anticipation. So, she decided, she was going to give it a try. But it would be on her terms, if at all. In her time, if at all. And, more than likely, that meant it wouldn’t be anything at all. Lexi was under no illusions. She had high standards and her lifestyle, even here, was demanding.<br/><br/>What would Sandra say about it all, Lexi wondered. Her friend was bitingly sarcastic and between them they’d come up with some kind of name for Raymond. Sitting on the luxurious sofa which had cost a ludicrous amount, Lexi raised her bare legs. She’d changed into her pink shorts and vest top jammies the moment she’d got home and she reached back to pull the crocheted blanket over her. Her fingers lingered on the blanket, feeling the softness of the blanket which her grandmother had made for Lexi’s birth. It was old, Sandra called it ‘scabby-looking’, but Lexi loved it. It went with her wherever she lived and the feel of it against her legs was familiar and comforting.<br/><br/>Putting her cup down, she smiled as she leaned back and pulled the blanket up a little further.<br/><br/>... and, three hours later, she woke with a start and then quickly got herself to bed.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><b>Friday<br/>
8:20pm<br/>
The Backstage<br/>
Nowhere. Somewhere near the middle.</b>​</div><br/><br/>It was busy, they were playing – she was late – and there were a lot of people. Lexi looked around and then she spotted him. Raymond was sitting at one of the tables towards the front. She took just a moment to mark the moment, to take stock of the surroundings. The band was playing ‘Only Love’ and she smiled. She’d been listening to them on Spotify a little as she’d driven into work and home, and on the way here and she liked what she heard.<br/><br/>So, Lexi moved and she weaved her way through the people and arrived at the table.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: right"><i>Maybe love shouldn't have to be so hard to take<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shouldn't have to feel that love until your poor heart breaks</i></i>​</div><br/>Lexi was wearing a very different outfit from her work outfit. A long dress, to the floor, which accentuated her height and long legs as it was tied at her waist and fell in swathes of fabric down. It was white, with black and red flowers on it. The neckline was low enough to not be conservative, and her arms were bare, so she had a light red shawl which wrapped around her. Her hair was piled back and she’d applied light make up.<br/><br/>With a grin at him, she slid into the empty chair and put down her drink. Dr McCallington, it seemed, drank pints. She didn’t say anything, because she didn’t want to interrupt the opportunity to listen to the music. While they were performing, Lexi watched them intently. Should Raymond pay attention, he would see that she was entranced. Her focus was complete, and her enjoyment was obvious.<br/><br/>As they finished, she joined in the clapping, but turned to him and said, “Hello. I’m sorry I’m late.” Her eyes turned to meet his and she smiled at him. Damn, he looked good. Sandra would have a field day with Old McHunky, she thought. “I’d like to say that it was a medical emergency, but I lost my keys.” With the slightest shrug she admitted. “They were in the fridge. Thank you for inviting me.” Then, as there was a few moments pause between songs, she asked. “How was the steak?”