Kelly Olynyk sat staidly at his keyboard, nestled in a corner of his cramped studio apartment. His rookie salary easily allowed for nicer accommodations, but he preferred the tight space. Not as much room for unnecessary possessions.
He was playing a melody that had appeared in his mind during the night. Playing, tweaking, repeating. Fiddling with the varied knobs and buttons to try and nail down what he had heard in the comfort of his bed. Intricate arpeggios and flourishes supplementing the main idea. Totally engrossed in his art, he did not hear his door open.
Phil Pressey walked over. “Hey, that sounds pretty good!”
Kelly jumped. “Oh, Phil, it’s you. I didn’t hear you come in. Knock next time, please.”
“I did, like 50 times. I knew you were in here so I just kind of let myself in.”
Kelly turned back to his keyboard and began to play again. “I’m kind of busy right now, Phil. Why don’t you come back later and maybe we can play some Dreamcast or something.”
“You got a name for that song? It’s catchy as hell. Infective.”
Kelly continued his experimentation as he responded. “The working title is ‘Intergalactic Vibrations’, but as I said I’m kind of busy.”
“Man, you should be in a band or something. You’ve got some serious talent.”
“I was in a band, once. We even had some success, in our own way.” He stopped playing and looked wistfully at the wall, where an intricately-artworked LP was hanging. He stood up, grabbed it, and looked at it fondly. “Here it is, ‘Visions of Mars, Cubistic Journey part one’, Starcubism’s magnum opus…” He trailed off. Suddenly his gaze turned stern. He dropped the record onto the cluttered floor. Wordlessly he grabbed his teammate and led him out the door and into the hallway.
“I’m not really in the mood for company, Phil, I hope you understand.” And with that he slammed the door in his teammate’s face. Phil pressed his ear to the keyhole. The once prominent keyboard playing had ceased, replaced by what he thought was the sound of tears.