Guitar and Drums

“So I hear you play the drums,” Will said.

Anna blinked. “You heard correctly. Why?”

“Are you busy?”

Answering a question with a question – a law student should know better. Anna said, “No.”

“Is it true you have a set of drums in your apartment?” Will asked.

“Yes.” Where was he going with this?

“Great. Can I come over?”

Anna glanced longingly at the next season of Spooks, waiting for her in all its Richard Armitage goodness and said, “Yes.”

Seven minutes later, Anna opened her door and saw Will standing on the doorstep, guitar slung across his back, amp in one hand.

“Where are your drums?” he asked.

Anna gaped. Will – proper, buttoned-up, Victorian Will – played the guitar? A gleaming red electric fender, no less. Will craned his neck and peered past her.

“Oh, they’re in your room,” he said. “Is there a plug in there for me to set up?”

Anna said, “Yes,” because it seemed that was all she was capable of saying, and she led Will into her bedroom. He spotted a power outlet and set up immediately while she stared, confused.

“Sit down and play a beat, any beat,” he said, so Anna, still dazed, obeyed. She grabbed her sticks, adjusted the hi-hat, and picked a beat from a song she’d been working on for a while. It was a beat for a Moffatts song, but then Will began picking a series of notes, a Chili Peppers song, and somehow it worked.

Will played the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

In Anna’s room. While she played the drums.

Wonders would never cease. Anna kicked into a filler and slid into a new beat, and Will followed her, this time with some Pink Floyd.

To top it off, he began to sing.

(297 words)