Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Five

Reflections, a Cantrell: The Early Years, Part Five Update

Erik wanted nothing more than to lounge around in his bed for another hour or so. In some ways touring was easier than all of the running around he and Kayleigh were doing, of late, to shore up the last-minute details. Some had advised them to set the wedding for at least six months into the future, but to those forced to wait just to become engaged, such time seemed an eternity. They wanted to be married, yesterday, no more waiting. Six years had already passed since they got promised to each other. Felt like a lifetime ago. Instead, in retrospect, they had chosen a harder path.  He was still two groomsmen short. Yes, the wedding could happen with uneven numbers in the bridal party, but both he and Kayleigh preferred symmetry. A fault we both need to divest ourselves from.

Being Sunday, and for the fact that the building named St. James was still mostly cinders, the Parish Council haggling with the insurance company, and their priest still hospitalized, to those who wished to keep Sunday in their usual fashion, meant a drive to another town.  They could attend the Greek church, nearby, but both of them preferred the service in Simlish.  Relying on strength of will, alone, Erik pulled himself out of bed, threw on a robe and padded to the other side of the upper floor to the corner bathroom, both had been using. He quickly freshened up and got himself dressed.  

Knocking ever so gently on Kayleigh’s door, he turned the knob and tip-toed in. She was fast asleep.

“Hey, sleepyhead, did you forget we have to go into Willow Creek for church today?”
“Huh what?” She tried to sit up on her elbow.
“We’re not crossing over an ocean or sea, so I can’t pop her into hyperdrive, like I could from Del Sol Valley to here. Willow Creek is on this side of the Pond. So, come on, the bathroom is all yours.”

They made it to church, surprised their families weren’t there, too. But there were others who didn’t mind the services being in a foreign tongue.  Erik was only mildly dismayed.  After church, he headed down the hill and over to Spock’s estate.  

He was very happy to find the Vulcan there.  “Spock, I hope you don’t mind me just popping over like this. I have something I would very much like to ask of you. Would you do me the honor of being one of my groomsmen?”

“I would be honored. Thank you.”

“Great, thank you! Forgive me for rushing off, but I have to go to Del Sol Valley, next.
“I understand. It’s a symmetry thing, according to Brianna-kam.”
Erik grinned. “She does know me well.”

When Erik arrived on the Cul-de-sac, his father was out front. “Dad!” Erik greeted. “Just the person I’m looking for.” Erik gave his father a loving hug.

“I need another —”
“Let me guess. You’re wanting me to stand for you? I’m thrilled, son and thank you.”

By the time Erik got back from fulfilling these tasks, it was late afternoon.  “I have to change,” he said, giving Kayleigh a concerned look.  “You still going with me tonight?” She smiled brightly.
“Yes, in fact I’m looking forward to it. I can’t wait.”
“Well, get a move on.”

Erik parked the Hovercraft in the underground lot, immediately below the PBP Studios Lounge. From there they took a turbo-lift to the second floor, and climbed the remaining set of stairs to the third floor.

They found seats and settled into what they both expected to be a long night. The Big Four Music Awards were done on the first Sunday of each season. The other Sundays were a mix of acting, literary and music awards. The category of Best Song of the Week, was judged by how well the song did; how many weeks it remained on the top of the charts, record sales and the like. Not quite as prestigious, but nothing to disregard, at the same time. Erik was thrilled.

“You’re so stoic. You know if it were me,” Kayleigh said quietly, “I wouldn’t be so relaxed.”
“I’m not at all relaxed," he said as he got up and changed seats with her. "You should feel the discord in my belly. Wait, wait? Ah, yes, there’s the music intro. Finally.”

“For bringing such aural beauty to the ears of Sims around the World . . . This week’s Best Song goes to . . .  Erik Cantrell, for his In the Wee Hours. Come on up here, Erik.”

Erik stood up and began to straighten his jacket when he stopped. “Erik, honey, what’s the matter?”
“I just realized I wore this same suit when I won Album of the Year. I can’t believe I made this mistake.”
“I think you look fabulous. The color is very flattering on you. Just go up and speak from your heart. I promise you nobody will notice.”

Erik stood in front of the microphone, for a moment of silent reflection. He praised God and asked for the healing of Father James.

“This is an honor,” he began. “My third Best Song. I wish to dedicate it to a wonderful, loving, spiritual man, who suffered a massive heart-attack due to smoke inhalation, as he tried to save the relics and icons from our burning church. There really should be an Accolade for such heroics. Father James, this is for you.”

“I would also like to thank my fans, who shore me up every day. Even when things look their bleakest. I get into my Simstagram account and find all kinds of affirming statements. You’re the best in the entire universe.”

“I would be remiss if I left out the crew over at Taygeta Studios, who give their all to my work and some very insightful opinions which I find invaluable. Thank you for all that you do.”

“I would like to thank the Academy for nominating me and to the committee who voted for me. My thanks to my family, my friends, my teachers and my fiancée whose relentless patience and support keeps me going. I love you, Kayleigh, you’re the best.”

“Good night, everybody!”

All for now, thanks for reading!