El final de las vacaciones llegó a su punto, todo cambio y poco a poco la casa cerca del mar comenzó a sentirse distinta. Las maletas de todos aparecieron abiertas sobre el suelo, la ropa lista y los instrumentos fueron guardados con más cuidado que nunca. Todos los recuerdos en el mar iban a quedar en ellos, siendo el cierre de una pausa que había cambiado algo dentro de todos.
Es mañana fue silenciosa. Cada uno parecía estar procesando lo que habían vivido: los días sin horarios, las noches improvisadas, la música sin expectativas. Finn miraba sus manos como si intentara recordar el ritmo del día uno. El guitarrista cerraba su estuche con calma, como si no quisiera hacerlo del todo. El pianista guardaba su libreta, esa que se había llenado sin intención. Jason fue el último en cerrar su trompeta.
The end of the vacation had come to a head; everything changed, and little by little, the house by the sea began to feel different. Everyone’s suitcases lay open on the floor, their clothes laid out, and their instruments were packed away more carefully than ever. All the memories of the sea would remain with them, marking the end of a break that had changed something inside each of them.
That morning was silent. Each of them seemed to be processing what they had experienced: the days without schedules, the impromptu nights, the music without expectations. Finn looked at his hands as if trying to remember the rhythm of day one. The guitarist closed his case calmly, as if he didn’t want to do it at all. The pianist put away his notebook, the one that had filled up without him even meaning to. Jason was the last to put away his trumpet.
El camino al aeropuerto fue distinto no había emoción, sino nostalgia, donde nadie hablaba, solo era un silencio, de esos que solo aparecen cuando no hace falta explicar nada. En ese lugar todo era distinto, pantallas, anuncios, personas caminando rápido, maletas rodando. Todo volvía a moverse con velocidad, como si el mundo no hubiera dejado de avanzar mientras ellos se detenían por un momento.
Mientras esperaban el vuelo, Finn comenzó a marcar un ritmo suave con los dedos sobre su pierna. El guitarrista lo miró y sonrió levemente. El pianista sacó su libreta otra vez. Jason, sin tocar su trompeta, cerró los ojos por un instante. El ritmo seguía ahí con ellos, pero más tranquilo. Cuando anunciaron su vuelo, se levantaron tomaron sus instrumentos y sus mochilas. Antes de abordar, alguien miró al grupo y sonrió, sin necesidad de decir mucho. Porque ahora ya no se trataba de ganar, se trataba de creer.
El avión despegó, dejando todo, pero ero lo que había nacido allí no se quedó en ese lugar. Viajaba con ellos, una nueva visión de su talento y mientras las nubes cubrían el paisaje, una certeza comenzaba a tomar forma: lo mejor de la banda, apenas estaba por empezar.
The drive to the airport felt different—there was no excitement, just nostalgia. No one spoke; there was only silence—the kind that settles in when nothing needs to be said. Everything there was different: screens, announcements, people walking quickly, suitcases rolling by. Everything was moving fast again, as if the world had never stopped moving while they paused for a moment.
While they waited for the flight, Finn began tapping a gentle rhythm with his fingers on his leg. The guitarist looked at him and smiled slightly. The pianist took out his notebook again. Jason, without touching his trumpet, closed his eyes for a moment. The rhythm was still there with them, but calmer. When their flight was announced, they stood up, grabbed their instruments and backpacks. Before boarding, someone looked at the group and smiled, without needing to say much. Because now it wasn’t about winning anymore; it was about believing.
The plane took off, leaving everything behind, but what had been born there didn’t stay in that place. It traveled with them—a new vision of their talent—and as the clouds covered the landscape, a certainty began to take shape: the best of the band was just about to begin.
Post de risingstar
@hivenftgamela/risingstar-concurso-la-historia-de-la-semana-con-jason-esen
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