The Ivories
Heero Yuy
The stage was silent. They were silent. The stilled eyes watched me as if they were held inside a corpse's skull. My hands could dance and still it would be without sound. The strings would pull, the hammers would fall but still.
But I played on, though the true soul could not be heard. The melody was distant to these people, untouchable and slippery to their skin. I pounded furiously against the contrasting keys with such force that it drove a gasp from the lungs of a single audience member. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw her, the one who drew her breath. Platinum blonde with what seemed to be violet eyes. That was all I could tell without detaching myself from my work. I put my focus back onto the work at hand.
I withdrew my fingers from the keys and straightened my back. The audience surrounding me exploded into applause. I looked to the crowd. A thousand people were clapping their palms together in my praise. I sighed. What had the fame done to me? The song that I had just played would never be as excellent as my first or as sorrowful as my life's finale. I stood from the piano's bench and left my stage. I knew that my departure without a bow of courtesy would cause discomfort in the crowd but I felt no life or pride flowing from the music I had played.
The area behind the stage was dark and quiet, perfect for thinking. I let my back lean against the brick wall, cool with the night. No one was there, not even my fiancé was there. Quiet and perfect.
I stared down at my hands, those gifted additions, which were glowing pale in the moonlight. or maybe it was the remaining stage light. I would never look up to verify my doubts. Were they dirty, my hands? Had they committed a crime in searching for their fame? I asked my conscience only. I could not ask such questions of my fellow man for fear of being said to have a malady of the mind, and for the fear of losing my dearest, my Catherine. They would tear my hands from love's embrace and then break my arms to splinters.
"Darling.?"
The lone voice did not startle me. I returned my arms to my side then closed my eyes to breathe a sigh. A hand was placed on my shoulder. I could feel the coolness of the ring through my shirt. I turned. Fair skin, auburn hair, lips pouted in concern for me. I gave her a reassuring smile and touched her cheek. "Yes?" my voice came out with less bravery than I intended, but it would do. "You left them without your finale for tonight, dear," she said. I could feel the concern rising from her in body language and voice. I pulled my hand away from her cheek. I knew that this withdrawal would cause upset, but my hand felt suddenly icy, too cold to touch her warmth. To her statement, I shrugged. "I didn't feel up to it," I said. Her face lifted and fell in understanding. It was then that my moonlight was revealed as true. The glow was too natural to be from the stage. Her lips turned up in a small smile, a sign that she would love me no matter the hardship of containing me.
"Come on Heero. Let's go back."
And I followed, so to relieve my depression and welcome the distorted reverie of dreams.
The hotel that we to retire to was more than elegant. The walls gleamed with gold trim, crystals, and pearly paint. "Isn't it beautiful, love?" I whispered drawing Catherine closer to my side. She nodded in agreement, looking about the room in fascination. We had been to plenty of large hotels together, but none nearly as magnificent as the one we looked upon. Then I saw it. I gasped at its beauty, and my feet stopped moving. Sleek black skin, white keys.
"Like it, do you?"
I looked back at my fiancé. She gave me a knowing smile. I returned it. "Yes, it's very beautiful." I said. Her smile grew a little. "Heero Yuy!" came a deep voiced person. My head turned suddenly. A man of maybe twenty- seven, just five years older than myself, came bumbling up to us. His hair was long and almost white, like the young girl at the concert, and his eyes were an iced blue color, lighter than my own, but they seemed a little bloodshot. It was very clear and obvious. the man was drunk.
He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close to his face. The scents of at least three expensive wines swirled around my nostrils. I turned my head. "Heyyyy! You are that Heero Yuy kid!" he replied with a burst of giddy laughter attached to the end. I tensed in his hold. I resented being called "kid." I pulled from his flimsy grip. "Excuse me sir." I said softly as I freed myself. He resumed his squealing laughter. I looped my arm around Catherine's. "Let's go," I said, pulling her with me. We went on our way past these strangers and the drunken man again, who persisted on bothering us. The security had to be called to assist him to his room. "Now, Mr. Peacecraft, we don't want any trouble. like last time. Come up to your room and you can have a nice nap." I heard one of the guards say in a soft voice. I didn't hold the annoyance against the man, he wasn't in control of himself. The drunken man produced a wide smile. "Okay." he said. He held out his arm, fingers dangling limply in the air. "Lead me!" he said loudly. Obedient, one of the guards took his arm, the other man steadying his back. He was pushed quickly down one of the halls on the opposite of our room. Catherine and I turned down our own hallway, and then took a trip up the stairs to our room.
We undressed and got into bed without words. The cocoon of blankets and the embrace of arms were comforting. I felt her face move for words to come through lips. "Goodnight darling." she murmured. My pause was unsettlingly long. But I did turn to her. I stared at her through the darkness, knowing that she couldn't see my face. I leaned forward just a little and kissed her cheek.
"Sweet dreams, my love."
I pulled the cover over my shoulder and closed my eyes. Just before sleep took me, I felt the slightest touch on my cheek. "I love you." said a voice in the night. I smiled a reply then fell into a void of slumber.
I awoke abruptly. The darkness instantly pulled me to reality from my web of nightmares. It wasn't long before my body took itself away from the dream world also. I could feel the blankets resting warmly over my body. Beside me, was my love, sleeping peacefully. I was relieved that I hadn't disturbed her, for I was tangled like an old locust tree's branches in the bed, truly haunting. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I wasn't surprised at my ill maintained hours of sleep. I usually didn't rest well outside the walls of my own home. I curled my toes around the hotel carpet, the color of which I had barely noticed until then. Maroon. It was maroon. The moonlight masked nearly, but I could still tell. I wondered why it mattered. Why did the color of such a small thing make such a difference? I had no answer.
I sat there a few minutes. It may have been seconds. I could not be sure. But the thoughts of losing everything had not occurred to me until this dark hour of the morning. Do they really love my music? Or was it just me? I had been told many a time that I was a handsome young fellow, not that it made me feel any better, but it made me think. Was everyone there because I had money? I grimaced. These awful thoughts shouldn't intrude so early in the morning, I thought. Then I remembered the piano, the one in the main hall of this large estate. It had been beautiful, looking nearly unspoiled as it shone under the chandeliers of this hotel set somewhere in California. It would be marvelous to play, I thought. My fingers tingled for the touch of cool keys and ached at the chance to play. And so I chose to go. Careful not to wake my love, I slid from beneath the comforter and left my sleeping princess to her dreams.
The rest of the hotel was as gloomy as the stage of few hours passed. My steps echoed across the large room, even though they were worn bare to prevent the noisy click of shoes on tiles. There it was, guiding me to it like a lighthouse would. The polished black wood still gleamed. I stepped to it, careful of any hidden velvet rope that tended to be unseen when such beauty was confronted. I pulled out the bench, loud for the hour. I stared at the keys. I knew them by heart and could play them blindly, but could I really play them now? I positioned my hands over the keys, closed my ears to the rest of the world, and closed my eyes to the vision of the struggle to see. I was ready.
First came a classic, a piece by Beethoven, the title I failed to remember at the time but my memory of the notes was not at fault. Next came Fur Elise, a particular favorite of mine. I poured out the notes, my fingers gliding across the keys. The song was played loudly, a volume that would surely interrupt the sleep of any normal human being. But I was surprised that no person came to throw a slipper in the direction of both piano and my head. Content, I was, while sitting there. There were no corpse's eyes staring back, no false melodies.
When done, I stood to receive my warm bed with finally tired eyes. I smiled as I ascended the stairs.
My finale had been complete.
Heero Yuy
The stage was silent. They were silent. The stilled eyes watched me as if they were held inside a corpse's skull. My hands could dance and still it would be without sound. The strings would pull, the hammers would fall but still.
But I played on, though the true soul could not be heard. The melody was distant to these people, untouchable and slippery to their skin. I pounded furiously against the contrasting keys with such force that it drove a gasp from the lungs of a single audience member. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw her, the one who drew her breath. Platinum blonde with what seemed to be violet eyes. That was all I could tell without detaching myself from my work. I put my focus back onto the work at hand.
I withdrew my fingers from the keys and straightened my back. The audience surrounding me exploded into applause. I looked to the crowd. A thousand people were clapping their palms together in my praise. I sighed. What had the fame done to me? The song that I had just played would never be as excellent as my first or as sorrowful as my life's finale. I stood from the piano's bench and left my stage. I knew that my departure without a bow of courtesy would cause discomfort in the crowd but I felt no life or pride flowing from the music I had played.
The area behind the stage was dark and quiet, perfect for thinking. I let my back lean against the brick wall, cool with the night. No one was there, not even my fiancé was there. Quiet and perfect.
I stared down at my hands, those gifted additions, which were glowing pale in the moonlight. or maybe it was the remaining stage light. I would never look up to verify my doubts. Were they dirty, my hands? Had they committed a crime in searching for their fame? I asked my conscience only. I could not ask such questions of my fellow man for fear of being said to have a malady of the mind, and for the fear of losing my dearest, my Catherine. They would tear my hands from love's embrace and then break my arms to splinters.
"Darling.?"
The lone voice did not startle me. I returned my arms to my side then closed my eyes to breathe a sigh. A hand was placed on my shoulder. I could feel the coolness of the ring through my shirt. I turned. Fair skin, auburn hair, lips pouted in concern for me. I gave her a reassuring smile and touched her cheek. "Yes?" my voice came out with less bravery than I intended, but it would do. "You left them without your finale for tonight, dear," she said. I could feel the concern rising from her in body language and voice. I pulled my hand away from her cheek. I knew that this withdrawal would cause upset, but my hand felt suddenly icy, too cold to touch her warmth. To her statement, I shrugged. "I didn't feel up to it," I said. Her face lifted and fell in understanding. It was then that my moonlight was revealed as true. The glow was too natural to be from the stage. Her lips turned up in a small smile, a sign that she would love me no matter the hardship of containing me.
"Come on Heero. Let's go back."
And I followed, so to relieve my depression and welcome the distorted reverie of dreams.
The hotel that we to retire to was more than elegant. The walls gleamed with gold trim, crystals, and pearly paint. "Isn't it beautiful, love?" I whispered drawing Catherine closer to my side. She nodded in agreement, looking about the room in fascination. We had been to plenty of large hotels together, but none nearly as magnificent as the one we looked upon. Then I saw it. I gasped at its beauty, and my feet stopped moving. Sleek black skin, white keys.
"Like it, do you?"
I looked back at my fiancé. She gave me a knowing smile. I returned it. "Yes, it's very beautiful." I said. Her smile grew a little. "Heero Yuy!" came a deep voiced person. My head turned suddenly. A man of maybe twenty- seven, just five years older than myself, came bumbling up to us. His hair was long and almost white, like the young girl at the concert, and his eyes were an iced blue color, lighter than my own, but they seemed a little bloodshot. It was very clear and obvious. the man was drunk.
He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close to his face. The scents of at least three expensive wines swirled around my nostrils. I turned my head. "Heyyyy! You are that Heero Yuy kid!" he replied with a burst of giddy laughter attached to the end. I tensed in his hold. I resented being called "kid." I pulled from his flimsy grip. "Excuse me sir." I said softly as I freed myself. He resumed his squealing laughter. I looped my arm around Catherine's. "Let's go," I said, pulling her with me. We went on our way past these strangers and the drunken man again, who persisted on bothering us. The security had to be called to assist him to his room. "Now, Mr. Peacecraft, we don't want any trouble. like last time. Come up to your room and you can have a nice nap." I heard one of the guards say in a soft voice. I didn't hold the annoyance against the man, he wasn't in control of himself. The drunken man produced a wide smile. "Okay." he said. He held out his arm, fingers dangling limply in the air. "Lead me!" he said loudly. Obedient, one of the guards took his arm, the other man steadying his back. He was pushed quickly down one of the halls on the opposite of our room. Catherine and I turned down our own hallway, and then took a trip up the stairs to our room.
We undressed and got into bed without words. The cocoon of blankets and the embrace of arms were comforting. I felt her face move for words to come through lips. "Goodnight darling." she murmured. My pause was unsettlingly long. But I did turn to her. I stared at her through the darkness, knowing that she couldn't see my face. I leaned forward just a little and kissed her cheek.
"Sweet dreams, my love."
I pulled the cover over my shoulder and closed my eyes. Just before sleep took me, I felt the slightest touch on my cheek. "I love you." said a voice in the night. I smiled a reply then fell into a void of slumber.
I awoke abruptly. The darkness instantly pulled me to reality from my web of nightmares. It wasn't long before my body took itself away from the dream world also. I could feel the blankets resting warmly over my body. Beside me, was my love, sleeping peacefully. I was relieved that I hadn't disturbed her, for I was tangled like an old locust tree's branches in the bed, truly haunting. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I wasn't surprised at my ill maintained hours of sleep. I usually didn't rest well outside the walls of my own home. I curled my toes around the hotel carpet, the color of which I had barely noticed until then. Maroon. It was maroon. The moonlight masked nearly, but I could still tell. I wondered why it mattered. Why did the color of such a small thing make such a difference? I had no answer.
I sat there a few minutes. It may have been seconds. I could not be sure. But the thoughts of losing everything had not occurred to me until this dark hour of the morning. Do they really love my music? Or was it just me? I had been told many a time that I was a handsome young fellow, not that it made me feel any better, but it made me think. Was everyone there because I had money? I grimaced. These awful thoughts shouldn't intrude so early in the morning, I thought. Then I remembered the piano, the one in the main hall of this large estate. It had been beautiful, looking nearly unspoiled as it shone under the chandeliers of this hotel set somewhere in California. It would be marvelous to play, I thought. My fingers tingled for the touch of cool keys and ached at the chance to play. And so I chose to go. Careful not to wake my love, I slid from beneath the comforter and left my sleeping princess to her dreams.
The rest of the hotel was as gloomy as the stage of few hours passed. My steps echoed across the large room, even though they were worn bare to prevent the noisy click of shoes on tiles. There it was, guiding me to it like a lighthouse would. The polished black wood still gleamed. I stepped to it, careful of any hidden velvet rope that tended to be unseen when such beauty was confronted. I pulled out the bench, loud for the hour. I stared at the keys. I knew them by heart and could play them blindly, but could I really play them now? I positioned my hands over the keys, closed my ears to the rest of the world, and closed my eyes to the vision of the struggle to see. I was ready.
First came a classic, a piece by Beethoven, the title I failed to remember at the time but my memory of the notes was not at fault. Next came Fur Elise, a particular favorite of mine. I poured out the notes, my fingers gliding across the keys. The song was played loudly, a volume that would surely interrupt the sleep of any normal human being. But I was surprised that no person came to throw a slipper in the direction of both piano and my head. Content, I was, while sitting there. There were no corpse's eyes staring back, no false melodies.
When done, I stood to receive my warm bed with finally tired eyes. I smiled as I ascended the stairs.
My finale had been complete.