Brightest Day


magnes_icon2.gif bf_robyn_icon.gif

Scene Title Brightest Day
Synopsis Magnes runs into a friend, sort of.
Date April 2, 2012

The Rock Cellar

The Rock Cellar is buzzing tonight, alive and full of activity. From within, pop rock music blares, almost unmuffled on the street side in front of the establishment. The Rock Cellar is no stranger to musical acts, but tonight's show is a special one, as flyers, banners, and other forms of advertisement throughout Greenwich Village and the rest of the city have made clear.

Tonight marks the return of one of the city's local musicians, and one who has risen up spectacularly high in the last few months. Tonight is the release party for One More Try, the new album from Robyn Quinn that's been blitzing all over Billboard.

On the stage, a woman with short, straight hair stands holding a black and red starburst Gibson SG Bass. She's flanked by another man and woman on each side, both with guitars, and a drummer at the back of the stage. Next to her, a keyboard waits, unattended. Dressed in a pale green button up shirt with ruffled cuff and blue jeans, she lets out a "Woo!"

With a contented sigh, she looks out on the gathered crowd and smiles brightly, there's a shimmer in her eyes as the stage lighting abruptly switches to a cool greenish blue, a spotlight forming around the woman of the hour, one Robyn Quinn.

"So, I had some sappy story t' tell originally," she muses, adjusting the bass guitar she holds a bit. "About New York an' makin' a comeback in a city like this, but then I decided- why?" She pauses for a moment, head canting to the side as she look up at the lights on the ceiling. "Why dwell on the past, yeah?"

She offers a small shrug. "An' that's kind of th' thought that led me t' my last song for the night-" immediately, the crowd busts into noise - "an' the song I'm sure most a' you are here f'r, so fuck it. Forget t'day. Tomorrow might be your brightest day."

Immediately, the band launches into a bright and bombastic pop rock song, light swirling around Robyn as she turns around with her bass in hand, an array of colours flashing through the room. When she turns back around, she's on the mic like it's the most attractive girl in the room.

It's so good t' see you again
Give me some time, I know where t' begin
Go on, come on and take a look 'round
Take in th' light an' everythin' we found

Static crackles from speakers all around the room as the lyric "Our brightest day" echoes into the room.

And for the first time in a long time
We can make it without these crimes
So bring on the day an' we'll come alive
There's no need t' fight, we will survive

She stomps her feet on the stage, one, two, three, four times in beat with the bass drum, before sliding across the stage a bit, a trail of rainbow light following behind her like a special effect straight out of a music video.

I know where we were, I've seen where we've been
I won't cry anymore if you'll just tell me when
You can feel it, that warmth from above
We won't look back on those days of…

Again, speakers all around the venue crackle to life, only this time it's the lyrics "Our decline" that plays out into the air, intentionally marred by static.

For the first time in a long time
We can make it without these crimes
So bring on the day an' we'll come alive
There's no need t' fight, we will survive

As the song moves into it's bridge, the lights go dark in the room, only the band still illuminated by warm, orange and yellow lights. Robyn takes her hands off her bass, both hands on the mic in front of her as she takes hold of it and begins to move across the stage with it in hand, pInk and white lights trailing behind her every movement.

This is our brightest day
Nothing will stand in our way
Nothing now left to say
Let me show you the way
And come what may
I will show you th' way

She taps a finger in the air, counting the beat after the bridge ends, and when she snaps, the lights all flare back to life, pulsing and flashing as she sings. The other woman on guitar steps forward to one of the mics, singing back up as she moves into the intro of the song.

For the first time in a long time
We can make it without these crimes
So bring on the day an' we'll come alive
There's no need t' fight, we will survive
And come what may, I will show you th' way
I will show you th' way (Bring on the day)
I will show you th' way (We'll come alive)
I will show you th' way (No need t' fight)
Let me show you th' way (We will survive)

She marches to the edge of the stage, fingers moving across strings and frets as she does, each step resulting in a splash of coloured light at her feet. coloured trails following the movements of her fingers as she smiles out at the gathered crowd. This is what she lived for, in one way or another, and they can see it on her face as she belts out the end of the song.

I will show you th' way (Bring on the day)
I will show you th' way (We'll come alive)
I will show you th' way (No need t' fight)
Let me show you th' way (We will survive)

"Thank you an' good night, New York!"

And no sooner than when those words are out of her mouth does the venue go completely dark, clapping and cheering erupting from the crowd, and when the lights come back up, Robyn Quinn is nowhere to be seen on stage.

20 Minutes Later

Robyn leans against a wall out front of the Rock Cellar. It's with a groan that she slouches against it, wiping the sweat off her brow. It's a release party, she's supposed to be inside greeting fans and signing CDs and LPs, but really, she just needs a moment away from all the people.

She'll get to her obligations once she's had a moment to catch her breath, to not have people yelling in her ear, to not have to deal with entitled and snotty fans waiting for her inside. Not that she would tell that to any of their faces, but, well. Having to have fans is sometimes the most unfortunate part of being a musician, but it's kind of an important part of the job.

She'll spend the rest of the night suffering them, but for now, she takes a deep drag of her cigarette and relax.

He didn't come to watch, but when he was walking by such a familiar place, and then saw one of the fliers, one he actually took a moment to look at, he stepped in when he heard the familiar voice. He had to watch, he couldn't help it.

When the lights go dark, it's his turn to slip out as well. But before he can get particularly far, he ends up taking a call.

It's Elaine. They talk for a good 20 minutes about potato bread, because they're pretty much at that stage now. And then when he's finally off, he hangs up, and goes walking.

He's in a black leather jacket with a fur collar, with his hands in his pockets. On his legs are blue jeans, and his feet a pair of black Converse.

He walks until he's nearly in front of Quinn, then he suddenly stops and turns around, quite deliberately. "Fuck!" he lets slip, and by now, for her, someone turning and trying to walk away is probably odd. But he can't be entirely sure of a lot of things. He can't be sure that the Magnes of this world hasn't met her yet, he can't be sure that he might not have gone through the (first) Elaine saga in the last few months somehow, can't be sure of a hell of a lot of things.

It's too risky to meet his old friends.

The exclamation draws Robyn's attention, letting out a sigh as her peace is deserved. She tosses the but of her cigarette down to the ground and pushes off the wall, looking over towards Magnes. She weighs her options carefully, pulling another cigarette out of the pack, lighter with it. Except this time, flick flick.

The damn thing won't light.

Exasperatedly, she realises that either leaves her without the relaxing feeling she needs, or that she's going to have to talk to someone, literally the activity that's at the bottom of her list of life to-dos right now. Still, she turns, and braces herself for what she thinks is going to happen once she speaks up.

"Hey, kid, y' got a light?" It's asked in a low voice, carried a bit on a wind that makes it more audible than it maybe should be. She flicks her wrist out, palm up and open as a little ball of light forms with in, shedding just enough light for the both of them to see a bit clearer. She watches him, other hand in her jeans pocket.

Magnes turns around, staring at her, a strangely sad look in his eyes, as if he's seeing someone he hasn't seen in far too long. It feels like it's been a lifetime already.

"Oh, no, sorry, I don't smoke…" He approaches her, because, well, both because he wants to and because insisting on leaving will probably seem a bit suspicious. "Quinn, right?" he asks, because he's gotten so used to using that as her first name, he doesn't think to say Robyn.

"You're doing really well." is said in a tone that suggests he hasn't seen her in a long time, rather than a stranger giving a compliment. That's the tone, at least. "You were great. Are you…" He looks around, considering the possible strangeness of his questions, but he shakes his head and continues. "Is this all what you wanted it to be? Are you happy?"

She quirks an eyebrow at him as he stares back at her, but he answers quickly enough that she doesn't think much of it. When he speaks her name though, any sort of joviality falls away from her face, replaced with a flat, annoyed look. "Robyn," she corrects. "No one calls me Quinn anymore. An' that's just great." She slips the cigarette back into the pack, sighing as she leans back against the wall. "Ah well."

Remembering that she's supposed to be friendly to people, she lets a smile return to her lips, looking over towards the doors, and then back at him. "Yeah, y' think so? What, did y' buy the last - ugh- album?" is the response to his first statement, though after a moment, she turns her head away a bit so that she can side eye him.

"What's with the questions?" is a fair enough question of her own. "Y' with the media, 'cause I already got through all a' that earlier t'day an' I really don't feel like treadin' back over it." She crosses her arms, lips thin as she looks back at Magnes. She leans over towards him slightly. "You were in there, yeah?" Her smirk is a bit more genuine this time. "Y'er feckin' right this is where I want t' be, an' thank you for bein' here for it with me." It seems a bit practiced, and while the feeling isn't entirely true there's at least a bit of genuineness behind it.

"Robyn…" Magnes says this as if he's practicing it. It's so odd. He briefly considers if this is something that'll happen in his world as well. "I'm not from the media or anything. And yeah, I was in there. I just… you remind me of someone I know, from back home." He smiles, but it seems more forced than anything, as he's clearly not feeling great, almost like he's seeing someone after a breakup where he wasn't the one who wanted to end it.

"She was something else. Always writing music, we had a band called Mad Muse, it was great, I was the bassist. We had drama, but we always got through it, we got through life together, we were all best friends. My friend… who reminded me of you, she was… rough, she wasn't always nice, but she cared…" He's trying not to make a habit of this crying thing, he's been doing it a lot since Virus, so he just turns his head away from her for a few moments, without really showing her a single tear.

He rubs his eyes on his sleeve though, then turns around, cheeks a little puffy. "Sorry, allergies." he informs, forcing another smile. "I sometimes wonder if I'll ever see her again, I wonder if she'll ever be as successful as you, if she's still writing her music." He leans against the wall, and as if breaking whatever he's doing for a moment, he just lets out, "God, this is too hard…"

Robyn stares at Magnes as he talks, trying to let what he says simply filter on past her while she pretends to pay attention, but even with the music playing over loudspeakers from within, it's still too quiet for her to be able to tune him out. "Yeah. Allergies," she asserts, her subtle way of calling Magnes out.

"Mad Muse, huh?" Fingers drum on arms as she looking back towards him, feigning interest. "Good name. Never heard a' ya. Not from around her, huh? Should'a come out t' one a' the band competitions they like t' have around here." She holds out her hands, disinterest quickly forming into the haughtiest of expressions as she examines her nails. "I mean, y' could've at least gotten second, if she's- all a' you - are as good as y' say."

She motions vaugely north. "Y' ever decided t' record, go t' Red Booth up in Rochester. They'll do y' good. Might give a discount if y' tell 'em y' saw me t'night and I sent y' there." A small shrug follows. While the talk of a band does catch her a bit more, she's still trying to relax. "What, y' just break up with 'er? Not everyday I remind someone of somethin' just with music, but I guess that means I'm doin' it right."

"No, it's nothing like that… well, my girlfriend did leave me for her, but we all made up and it was fine. I'm with someone else now, we have a baby on the way. Wow… I still can't believe I just said that." Magnes has to go over that in his head one more time. "Sorry, just, the shock of fatherhood being around the corner hasn't worn off at all."

"You'd— I mean, she'd probably have thought this was insane. Me as a dad." He gives a more genuine smile, now. "Well…" his brief slip wasn't lost on him, best not to risk this any longer. "I guess I should probably get going, Qui— I mean, Robyn, Robyn. God that's hard."

More reason to get out, staying too long means more slipping. "Sooo… I'll see you around!" he says, as if trying to quickly pull out, slowly beginning to back up, his demeanor a little more anxious now, as if he wants to run but he's trying not to run.

He's also entirely avoided giving his name.

"Jesus, overshare much?" Robyn scoffs disgustedly as the man shares just a little too much for her to be able to stomach, pushing off the wall and watching him as he starts away. "But, uh- congrats, I guess?" She pauses for a moment, sucking a deep breath as she attempts to remain patient. "Did y' get any merch yet?" Because priorities. "Y' come in an' get something, I'll have 'em throw in a t-shirt, for… the kid?"

Sure, okay. This is her trying to play nice with the people.

"Or, y' know. Whatever. Give y'r regards t' y'r friend for me. An' tell 'er I said good job." He has no idea for what, but well -stealing another dude's girlfriend is a commendable effort in her book. Particularly this kinda weird dude. Good on her. She follows after him, slowly making her way back towards the door inside.

"Sure, sure, I'll get a shirt and stuff." Magnes realizes that she isn't his Quinn, and there's at least some measure of disappointment that she isn't. It's not the same, just like it wasn't the same with Elaine, but Elaine was a… positive different, similarly to Peyton.

He heads inside, but says one last thing to her before going to get his merch. "Do what makes you happy, okay, Robyn? Never forget. You to deserve to be happy."

She watches him for a moment for a moment, before that devilish smirk reforms on her face. "Well, duh," is an honest response. "I do, an' I already am. So, how about I throw this one back at y'," she remarks with a motion to the door. Her smile grows, raising a finger up over her lips as if she shushing someone-

And quickly she dissolves from sight, rendered invisible right in front of Magnes.

"Do whatever it takes t' get what y'r brightest day, kid."

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