Author: bittersweet.season PM
people were staring, but we kept on playing because the music was controlling our fingers and it was right. [there's not a single thing i don't remember.]Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry - Words: 685 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 02-08-07 - Status: Complete - id: 2316917
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Leading her over to the grand piano in the middle of the room. "Play for me." Like a command
"What? I can't play here! There're people and – I mean don't even have anything to play."
"Play that song you were playing before, the Canteen or whatever."
"You mean Canon?" she snapped. "Well, I don't know it all. And besides won't they kick me out or something? For just using their piano?"" she asked, hands folded over chest, looking around the lounge/lobby.
"No. My dad's theboss." He said this as fact, not a boast. "No one's gonna say anything." He pulled her down next to himself, onto the soft leather of the piano bench.
As he took cover off the piano, she had a better I idea. "How about I teach you?" Before he could argue. she said, "It's only fair. You teach me a song, I teach you a song."
"But your song is a lot harder than mine."
"So?" she demanded, positioning herself so the both of them could access the keys. You know the basics, right? So you'll play the melody. This part." Leaning over to him some more, she pushed his hand out of the way to show him the keys to play. He squirmed a little in the bench, watching carefully. She played slowly and carefully. Then turned to him and said, "Try."
He gave her a blank look, and hands hovering hesitantly over the keys. Taking his hands, she guided his fingers over the keys, slowly and surely.
"This time, without me. Start at C. Okay, now G. Uh huh, now the next one- no the other… every fourth note." She voiced each note as he played them, directing him. "Now , again." Over and over until she was sure he could do it. "I'm giving you the simple part, okay? This is all you have to do."
He looked at her – almost impressed, asked, "And you taught this to yourself?"
Proudly, she nodded. "Now, I'll play more complicated parts, the higher notes. Just play what I taught you. And remember, half notes, okay?"
The first time was unsteady.
The second time – better.
By the fifth time through, she could feel him getting into it.
Looking around, he said, "People are staring." It was true. The lobby had quieted a bit, and some people has began to watch. The concierge even, cross the lobby, we're looking. And the nearest waiter, as well.
"Let them," she said, pushing hair away from her eyes. "They can see how good you're getting."
good we both are?" he grinned.
"Exactly." This, with a shy smile. "We'll put on a show." They turned to the piano at the same time.
"Our duet," he whispered.
When they began, she knew it was right. The current of notes pushed her fingers over the keys, through crescendos and decrescendos. She closed her eyes, let her hands do the walking, let the notes say it all...
...Now when I open my eyes, he is not there. I am alone at this piano, not as clean or not as grand as the one we sat at together and there are no lights reflected on the surface. But the music is still there, my fingers are still moving, but I'm at the end of the song. The tears on my warm cheeks betray my memory as the last notes resound in this empty room –
(this happens a lot these days, whenever I play). –
I choke sometimes, when I laugh at it, laugh at us. We weren't that great, really, and I didn't even know the whole song – but it was right, like friendship that isn't perfect, but lasts forever. No other reason. Just right.