by L. E. Piton
Tommy regularly performs wearing shorter cut-off shorts than Masa thinks should be legal; Masa figures that the only purpose of such articles of clothing is to prove that Tommy may be small in stature (Tommy barely hits five feet), but most of that is leg. Masa gets lost following the line of Tommy’s thighs from the top of his boots to the bottom of those ridiculously miniscule shorts. There’s some part of his brain that keeps his fingers moving up and down the neck of his bass, the beat firm in the rhythm of his pulse. He thinks this is a protection: As long as I keep playing, no one will notice my new obsession.
Masa, though. Masa is prone to tunnel vision. Every time he starts to stare, Tommy knows. Tommy is really close to telling Masa that his emotions come out too clearly through his fingers: whenever Masa is looking at Tommy, the beat becomes seeking, full of anticipation.