Simon finally looked at Janette Johnston, a slight smile on his face, and said seriously, "Actually, I only wanted to invite Kathryn, but I suppose it's fine if you come along too".
Upon hearing this, Janette immediately pulled Kathryn closer to her, as if afraid Simon would snatch her away.
However, an instant later, she reacted, extending a slender index finger to point at the guitar case at their feet, and said, "What I mean is, your money isn't even enough to open a decent bottle of red wine".
Simon casually plucked a string and said, "Let's skip the red wine this time. A boy inviting two women to dinner and opening red wine, people might get the wrong idea".
Janette glanced at Simon's attire and said disdainfully, "Who would get the wrong idea about you?"
Simon also glanced at the Hermès shoulder bag on Janette's shoulder and smiled, "Yes, so I'm afraid people might get the wrong idea about the two of you".
Janette blinked a few times in a daze before understanding, then glared fiercely at Simon: "Hmph!"
Kathryn had just coincidentally spotted Simon on the street and wanted to walk past him unnoticed.
Their last encounter had left a deep impression on her, and she subconsciously felt that such an outstanding boy would naturally be proud, and perhaps wouldn't want her to see him in his current predicament.
It was only when her friend insisted on dragging her over that Kathryn had no choice but to face Simon.
At this moment, hearing Janette's sarcastic remarks to Simon, Kathryn had wanted to speak up and stop her, but noticing the faint, unconcerned smile on Simon's face, a sudden understanding dawned on her.
He was naturally proud; she could confirm this from many details of their first meeting.
However, this pride clearly didn't carry the stubbornness that stems from a deep-seated sense of inferiority. Therefore, he didn't consider his current situation to be particularly embarrassing. When faced with Janette's taunts, he acted more like a mature and steady adult humouring a mischievous little girl.
Most of the time, wasn't she also humouring Janette's childlike nature?
Thinking this, and seeing her friend gain no advantage in her verbal sparring with Simon, Kathryn couldn't help but let out a laugh.
"Whose side are you on?" Hearing Kathryn's soft laugh, Janette immediately shot her a displeased glare, a warning, then turned back to Simon. Her eyes darted around, and the woman suddenly transformed her expression like a mischievous sprite, all trace of her previous anger gone. She slowly pulled out her wallet from her shoulder bag, took out a 100-dollar bill, waved it in front of Simon, and then casually placed it in the guitar case, saying, "Here, little boy, I haven't heard enough yet, sing another song. But if I'm not satisfied, I'm taking my money back, okay?".
Simon nodded: "Alright, then I suppose I'll open a bottle of red wine for you later".
"Hey, didn't you hear me? I said..." Janette was about to reiterate her point when the boy in front of her had already begun plucking the strings. This time, the expensive Gibson acoustic guitar, with its clear tone, produced a series of short, 'ding-ding' notes. She felt a sense of familiarity but couldn't recall where she'd heard it, and subconsciously said, "This, I know, um, it's..."
Simon plucked the strings several times, getting a feel for it, then looked up at the two women in front of him, a faint smile on his lips, and said, "'Flight of the Bumblebee,' for Jenny".
As soon as he finished speaking, the lively and rapid music began to dance on the strings in front of Simon.
The urgent melody, starting with a rapid descending scale, immediately evoked the image of a nimble yellow jacket swooping down towards the evil weaver and cook in the story. Subsequently, the melody began to roll up and down, just like that yellow jacket nimbly dodging and weaving.
As one of the most famous pieces of music from Russian composer Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov's opera 'The Tale of Tsar Saltan', 'Flight of the Bumblebee' has appeared in numerous films and TV shows such as 'The Green Hornet', 'Shine', and many others, and with its extremely fast tempo, it has gradually become a showpiece for many musicians to demonstrate their musical prowess.
Compared to those guitarists who blindly pursue speed, resulting in numerous mistakes and even making 'Flight of the Bumblebee' sound like a disturbed hornet's nest, Simon valued the completeness of the piece, and therefore did not deliberately pursue speed.
However, with Simon's hand speed of around 170 beats per minute, the standard sixteenth note piece, when played at such a high speed, instantly created a wonderfully frozen scene on the surrounding streets.
Almost all pedestrians within the range of the guitar music paused briefly, and then everyone's gaze converged on the focused young man.
A mother pushing a stroller stopped in her tracks;
A couple choosing handicrafts put down the matryoshka dolls in their hands;
A boy trying to quickly weave through the crowd stepped on his skateboard;
A middle-aged man on a street bench lowered the newspaper in front of him;
A certain eccentric woman, who had been looking for faults, also widened her eyes and tightly pursed her lips.
At this moment, the focused young man in front of them seemed to be the centre of the universe.
After more than ten seconds of music, a fashionably dressed young woman who had been standing at a nearby stall, as if waking from a dream, hastily aimed the lens of her Super 8 camera at the boy.
Actually, she had passed by this boy half an hour ago and heard him sing Joni Mitchell's 'Big Yellow Taxi' with a very unique arrangement, which reminded her of her awkward and rebellious teenage years.
That New Year, when she had just entered ninth grade,
To prepare for the school's Christmas party, she practiced Joni Mitchell's song with her friends in a friend's basement, despite pressure from her strict parents.
So many years have passed.
Looking back suddenly.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
She loved music, painting, and film, dreaming of becoming an artist like Joni Mitchell, but ultimately she still followed her parents' wishes and entered Yale Law School.
In a blink of an eye, she was already a junior.
An unintentional trip, an unintentional street corner, hearing that song from her youth again, many thoughts from her teenage years suddenly flooded her mind.
So, she lingered on Venice Beach for a while, then unknowingly returned, hiding nearby and pretending to be a passerby, wanting to hear the boy sing 'Big Yellow Taxi' once again.
For this, she even took out the camera from her bag, wanting to secretly record his singing.
Then she heard his conversation with the two women.
And now, the stunning 'Flight of the Bumblebee'.
Her name was also Jenny.
Standing nearby and hearing the boy say, "'Flight of the Bumblebee', for Jenny" a chord in her heart was even struck.
Many people gathered on the street, and she no longer held back, quietly walking over and hiding herself in the crowd, adjusting the camera lens in her hand, aiming it at the focused figure plucking the strings, while feeling a small shock at the profound guitar skills of this shabbily dressed boy.
She had studied piano; the top pianist her parents had specially hired to teach her had also demonstrated this piece to her and explained many of its details. Therefore, she knew that while 'Flight of the Bumblebee' was generally not too difficult to play, to play it well was by no means simple.
Moreover, compared to the piano, it was even more difficult to perfectly perform this piece on a guitar with only a few strings.
But the boy in front of her not only achieved this, but even through a near perfect rendition, he conjured up a strong sense of a bumblebee flying among people in the small world enveloped by the music.
Subsequently, what surprised her even more was that after completing the first approximately 70-second performance, the boy didn't pause at all and immediately began the second round, with a noticeably faster tempo, but the melody remained flawless.
This should be over 200 beats per minute, right?
She thought to herself, and a minute quickly passed.
Looping again, the melody accelerated once more.
And then again.
By the fifth time, she felt that even if the boy's hand speed didn't reach 300 beats per minute, it was probably very close.
'Flight of the Bumblebee' in sixteenth notes, four notes per beat, with a hand speed approaching 300 beats per minute, was a level only achieved by the very top guitarists. Yet, here it had appeared abruptly, played by an ordinary boy on the street corner.
Was this an illusion? Or, a supernatural event on Venice Beach?
Although it felt somewhat incredible, she instinctively felt that the boy could definitely go even faster.
However, when the current piece ended, the music abruptly stopped.
Her gaze shifted from the boy's profile and she noticed his palm carefully pressed against the strings, clearly not intending to continue.
A series of slightly regretful sighs seemed to float in the air.
Immediately, all the pedestrians gathered around enthusiastically applauded.
She also wanted to applaud, but remembered that she was still holding the camera.
So she quickly turned it off, put it down discreetly, and glanced at him guiltily. Although she hadn't managed to record the 'Big Yellow Taxi' she wanted, this video was definitely enough for her to treasure.
Amidst the applause, the boy politely thanked everyone, and some people generously placed several large denomination bills into his guitar case.
She glanced over; the 100 dollars that woman had put in was still conspicuous. However, the 10 dollars she had secretly placed there half an hour ago, when he wasn't paying attention, was now covered by other bills.
She felt inexplicably regretful; although she still had a lot of cash in her wallet, she instinctively dared not go forward again.
Afraid he would notice her.
Such an inconspicuous girl like herself.
Thinking this, after a brief lively moment, the onlookers dispersed.
She realized she should also turn and leave, but there were still a few people, so staying a moment longer seemed fine.
Then she heard the woman who had been so impolite to him earlier ask him in a somewhat stammering voice, "Um, little boy, last time you said... um, which mental hospital did you come from?"