Before the gameâŚThe Corsair Club lounge was every bit as posh as the brochure claimed. Impeccably cleaned and positioned over the third baseline and under the retracted awning, just so perfectly in the design of the stadium upgrades that the breezes from the ocean seemed to flow right over it in an invisible cascade of harmonious agreement among nature and architectural thermodynamics. It was still hot, humid even, but it came in a way that the club members didnât seem to mind, almost like it wasnât even noticeable, natural even. It was hot and humid in the Maldives as well, but it was
the Maldives and this was
Diamond Stadium. Rumor in Knight Enterprises was that Marcus had paid more than a handsome sum to an obscure, reclusive French architect to design it and consequently squabbled over the final placement. Marcus wanted the guests to be able to experience a foul ball, not forgetting they were attending a baseball game- they could happily take their social conventions to the Island Diamond or the Double-D. The architect found this ludicrous and the compromise tucked the whole affair happily closer to home on the baseline.
The seating carried a motif similar to that of the rooftop Island Diamond, however slightly adjusted in neon light for the team colors. It was imagery Sena had seen a thousand times as she watched the early Corsair-faithful filing into the general admission seating below: Families, couples, kids running freely with sticks of cotton candy and baseball gloves. It was total Americana. The teams warmed up as last minute touches were made to the starkly emerald outfield and painstakingly manicured infield. Ever since Marcus had taken over, all the games carried a certain âpartyâ atmosphere. Sena quietly noticed every-single-song played over the speakers as she watched someone carefully polishing the helicopter still sitting in left field where they landed. Everything from Buffett to WAM echoed over the speakers suiting an upbeat taste for everyone. It was maddening.
âYou are gonna have a good time tonight.â Karinaâs voice was suddenly right behind her. She handed Sena a colorful frozen drink with an equally over-the-top garnish of pineapples, kiwi, mango and other tropical fruits.
âHuh?â
âYouâre in a funk,â She continued, plopping down next to her in one of the large lounge cushions. âThere needs to be less rebellion and more romance I think.â She said, biting away a pineapple chunk and smirking.
âIs this a serious conversation right now?â Sena cocked an eyebrow.
Karina shrugged. âIâm just sayinâ youâll feel a lot better if you loosen up some, I know we have an image and all, but you donât have to let it, likeâŚâ She thought for a moment, maybe the conversation was a little too serious for the setting, but since that day at the diner, she had felt like maybe she needed to say something. Aside from that, she had already had a few samplings from the bar. âLike, you know, be the band, donât let it be you.â She said finally feeling very pleased with how philosophical the words came out.
âMaybe I can do both.â Sena replied, starting into her drink with a shrug. Karina was a naturally pleasant personality and it was impossible not to allow her to force even a tiny smile.
A raucous entry onto the club level brought about a distraction from the conversation, though both Sena and Karina knew the dominant voice of the Sweeper who hurriedly followed Levi as he sauntered up to the bar and downed a pair of shots as if the older man wasnât even there. â
Soupâ already had his guitar slung over one shoulder and wore his regular performance attire of black slacks, business loafers with a loose fitting white business shirt with equally disheveled, slender tie.
âLook Levi, just try to be more relaxed out there. Itâs the national anthem for Godâs sake. Look like youâre feeling it some.â
âI am relaxed. I play better when I stand still.â Levi said plainly. This was a regular debate among them. There was no doubt about talent, it was strictly a matter of presentation. Levi was near stone-like on stage and were it not for a startling ability on the strings, the spectacle would have potentially crested the point of comedy. It drove Danny completely insane. âDo you want better music or do you want theatrics, Danny?â
â
Both.â The Sweeper replied instantly with the confident smile that had sealed hotel deals worldwide.
Levi rolled his eyes indignantly and proceeded towards the stairs before a rude jeer stopped him in his tracks.
â
Heâs gonna choke!â
The sisters cackled wildly at the glare returned to them by their lead guitarist. The club wait staff and other members seemed slightly perplexed by the interaction, but the veterans accustomed to the bandâs eccentricities carried on unabated. This was only the beginning. Sena cupped her hands and booed loudly as Levi rolled his eyes and walked away shaking his head.
Game startâŚ
Flashbulbs erupted as Levi stepped out onto the field along with the mayor and a flanking local media crew while the loudspeaker blared the announcement across the stadium to prepare for the national anthem. None of it affected him in the least. He didnât even smile as his name was called out and people stood and removed their hats while his stoic image was broadcast up over the brand-new jumbotron. He had the look of a man about to perform surgery rather than play an instrument, though to him the seriousness was much the same. The ambient bustle of the crowd was silenced as he charged one hand over the strings of his unusually blue-camouflaged BCR Mockingbird and
let loose.