A/N: I love you guys. I really do. Thanks for ALL the reviews for my fanfiction! It makes me REAL happy to see what you guys think. Special shout-out to Libby (), the anonymous reviewer who beared with me and reviewed about all my fanfictions. Thanks soooooo much!
This was inspired by the song Lose Yourself by Eminem, for some reason. I was listening to it while writing this. Okay, so I believe there is not enough back story on Meghan's dad, Charles. So I made this in honor of him. It's in his POV, starting as a child. Feel free to comment!
Disclaimer: I sadly do not own the Iron Fey series or the characters. Shoot me now.
Lose Yourself
As a child, I was always interested in the piano. I watched with puppish excitement while my dad played, music pulsing through the air. I watched the gleam in his eyes, the smile on his face, the aura that seemed to surround him as he played.
And, suddenly, I wanted that feeling. I wanted to feel joyous, free, and happy.
My dad was a master at the piano, bringing in students he could teach. Jealousy always erupted when seeing them. Sure, he could teach them, but why not me?
Asking him to would be simple, but whenever I tried to, this tearing sensation would paralyze me. Like my actual soul would rip out. Like fate itself decided that I was not, under any circumstances, going to play piano.
Like playing it may be the very end of me.
My imagination was wild as a kid, and the very thought frightened me. Heck, I was so scared, I avoided the piano. But a longing part of me was dying to lay a slender finger upon a single key.
One warm summer day, my dad asked me.
"Hey squirt, wanna learn to play?" he cracked his knuckles, and groaned at the pain of athritis, "your old pop has some tricks up his sleeve."
I dreamed of this, imagined the exact details even. I imagined that I'd jump in joy, hug my father, and learn piano, grow up, and be a pianist superstar.
I couldn't be more wrong.
It hit me. That invisible force, punching me in the gut, pushing at me eyes.
Don't do it, it seemed to say.
My father seemed concerned. "You okay, Charlie?"
I opened my eyes, forcing a smile. "Yeah. Yes I want to play piano."
My father beamed, proud. "Let's do this."
~Lose Yourself~
Turns out, I was a natural. My father gave up on the basics, and taught me Beethoven, Mozart, you name it. I loved playing piano, bonding with my dad, getting the same exact feeling he did when he played.
For once, everything was perfect.
I should've known it wouldn't last.
I came home from school, excited to get another lesson started. But when I looked to the piano, where usually my dad would stand, a grin on his face, a "ready, squat" or remark rolling off his lips.
I just saw my mom staring sullenly at it, crying.
"Mom? What's going on?"
She looked up, startled. "Hey sweetie," she said, voice cracking, "How was school?"
"Where's dad?"
"Your father... he's... he's dead."
The world seemed to stop. I heard myself scream, a scream full of loss and confusion. I felt the moving of my head, glancing everywhere quickly, and saw it.
The piano.
And that's where I lost it. I ran out the house, ignoring my mother's wails and sobs, feeling broken. My dad was gone.
~Lose Yourself~
Ever since my dad's heart attack, I refused to look or go near the piano. I forced my mom into removing it from the house.
Because everytime I saw it, I was reminded.
Of him.
Of his smile, his retorts, his playing, his hair, his gap tooth, his mole, his everything.
And it killed me.
~Lose Yourself~
On the day of his funeral, I made a silent pact not to cry. I would let no one see how weak I was.
I broke that promise.
Once I saw him in his coffin, hands put together as if he was praying, suit impeccable, and face clean. I broke down.
This wasn't my father.
My father was dirty, messy, and non-religious. They turned him into something else.
I went on a rampage. I tore the flower apart. I made innappropriate noises during the ceremony. I laughed at other while they cried.
They don't deserve to cry, a voice in my head said, they didn't know him like you.
A girl in the corner of my eye looked at me with such pity. She was dressed in a flowy black dress, and a black hat that framed her face. She raised the hat revealing beautiful blue eyes and cascading blonde hair.
She walked towards me.
My breath caught and I smoothed down my suit.
"Hi, I'm sorry about your dad." she looked at me, trying to make eye contact.
I looked away. She stretched her pale, small fingers toward my quick, big ones.
"I'm Melissa."
~Lose Yourself~
After the funeral, Melissa and I started to talk. She came over my house at one point, and invited me to her's. I stopped with the immature act after her. She made me feel alive again, and I'll be damned if I lose her.
"So," she said, in her room. This was my first time in her house. "whaddaya think?" she gestured to her room.
I glanced around. The walls were painted a sky blue, very like Mellisa's eyes. It was neat, unlike my room which had clothes everywhere. Overall, it was a nice room.
"It's," I said, still scanning the room, "it's-"
I stopped, and spotted it in the corner. I felt that tearing sensation again, the feeling I thought I was done with, and my eyeballs were on fire. I wanted to roll in a ball and die.
"Charlie?"
I looked at Melissa. She looked frightened, and her eyes gleamed with fear.
"Charlie!"
I snapped back to reality, my lungs gasping for air. I took a breath I was unknowingly holding and shakily said:
"Yeah?"
"I'm sorry. I should've have brought you here. I should've known-"
"No."
Melissa jerked back, startled at the venom in my voice.
I recovered. "No. It's okay." I took a breath and muttered, "it's time."
She nodded, and slowly walked towards it.
The piano.
"I can play a few things, but I'm not good."
I wasn't even listening, just sucking in all the keys, memories, and songs the piano reminded me of.
Next thing I know, my fingers were flying, and I felt something good, something I haven't felt in a while. I embraced the piano, pouring every emotion into my playing. Melissa stared with wide, puppish eyes, like I once did as a child, with my dad.
Unfortunately, the song ended.
Melissa turned to me.
"Do it again."
~Lose Yourself~
I guess that term, love at first sight, wasn't a cheesy, fake saying. After all, after I met Melissa, I knew this was it.
She was the one.
We got married, and Melissa gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Meghan.
I'd love to say that Melissa and I stuck together, that we still loved each other as much as we did as kids, that Meghan grew up with loving parents, and everything was happily ever after.
But that would only make me a liar.
As most married couples do, Melissa and I grew apart. She took a special liking to painting, and I stayed engaged with piano, no longer feeling that ripping feeling.
I was probably imagining it.
Anyways, Melissa had been out a lot lately. She'd go out to the park several nights, and come back really late. I decided not to press her for information-things were complicated as they were.
It was another day, and Melissa was out working, and I was playing piano as usual.
I heard little footsteps coming down the stairs, and a person next to me. I turned to see little Meghan.
With whiteish blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes, Meghan was a spitting image of her mom.
"Daddy," Meghan waved her stuffed rabbit around, "I'm bored. I want ice cream."
She beamed, and I couldn't say no.
"In a while, squirt. Daddy's working on a song."
She pouted, but sat next to me. "What's it called."
"Memories of Meghan."
"That's me!"
I ruffled her hair, "So, what's up pudgy?"
"I'm not pudgy! Guess what? I made a friend!"
Meghan was forgettable. She never spoke of any friends, and dreaded going to school. "Who's the lucky friend?"
"His name is Robbie Goodfell." A little glint went in her eyes. "He's really nice."
"Oh no! This 'Robbie' better not steal my girl!"
"Daddy! Now can we have ice cream?"
"Okay, let's go."
Who would've thought that a trip to the ice cream truck would be a death sentence.
~Lose Yourself~
"Here's five dollars. You go buy yourself the biggest ice cream available."
Meghan jumped in joy. "Thanks dad!"
Kids.
I looked around, admiring the scenery. I don't get out often, I am oftenly holed up in the house, playing piano. Watching kids run around, I thought maybe I should get out more often.
Suddenly, everything-the world itself- seemed to slow down. The music of the ice cream truck seemed to slow too, and soon fade into nothing. If you could've asked me, this would've been a scene from Dead Silence. (A/N First horror movie ever. I was expecting better.)
Then, replacing the jingle of the ice cream truck, classical, piano music rangthrough the air. It swirled into my ears, leaving a buttery, nice feeling. My body shuddered from excitement, wanting to find the source of the music.
A raven with mesmirizing green eyes cawed and few to the pond, straight through the water, into some other dimesion.
Everything went back to normal, the ice cream truck's jingle blasting out, but not as loud or gracefully as the classical music.
My legs pulled at me, and I was split. Ice creamtruck or piano. Ice cream truck or piano. Ice cream truck or piano.
The lake began to split open-as propostorous as it sounds-and the music beckoned me.
That's when I saw him.
My dad.
That sold it. I walked towards the lake, not considering my decision. I looked up, and saw Meghan's shocked, scared eyes.
Daddy! she mouthed.
"NO!" I screamed, but my legs kept walking. I screamed, trying to take control, and realized that nothing I can do would change anything.
The choice has been made.
I wanted to scream, sob, die even, but something wouldn't let me. So, taking one last emotionless look at my daughter, I walked into the lake, and all was black.
~Lose Yourself~
"Lea, Titania is going to kill this guy. I need you to hide him for now."
My senses came back, and I looked around in a daze. I saw two people standing, one with startling red hair.
"And why should I do that?" a sharp tone snapped back.
Red Hair flinched. "He's can play, you know. He plays piano."
"Oh really?" Facination was sowed into the words. A female. It was a female voice.
"Look-he's awake."
The people looked at me. And they had weird ears.
That's it. I'm drunk.
"Human," the lady said. I looked up, realizing she was talking to me. "What instrument do you play?"
"Urrgnn," The words spewed out my mouth. She raised a perfect eyebrow.
"Piano."
She snapped her fingers. A piano appeared. "Play." she snapped.
Scared for my life, I lifted my trembling hands and began to play. The melody came so naturally, my hands were flying, eyes closed, and music flowing. I was momentarily unaware of the lady gaping at me, nor the wide eyes of the red-headed fellow.
No, in that moment I was lost in the moment.
But, eventually, the music died down, and the song ended, my fingers flourished, dramatically ending the song.
"Robin, dear, I believe we have a deal."
~Lose Yourself~
"Charles, darling, do you have that song ready?"
I blinked. "Yes, Leanansidhe." I played my most recent piece. For some strange reason, this one stood out to me. The name was familiar, but whenever I tried to remember it's origin, the memory was more distant. Like trying to grab a mouse that never stopped running. So, I learned to just play, and live in the moment.
Memories of Meghan. That was the song's name.
After another performance, Leanansidhe sent me with some funny-looking midgets off to my room. I liked my room. It was like a personal santuary.
Playing piano made me lose those once precious memories. Slowly, as I played, memories faded away, especially one of a tiny, blue-eyed cute girl. And another one of a fair-haired man with a gap in his teeth.
But they must've not been important. After all, if they were valuable, I wouldn't lose them.
I played piano, losing my sanity and memories. Not once did I look back with longing, nor remorse.
After all, Leanansidhe told me to simply forget the memories, and lose myself in the music.
So I did.
A/N: ! You wouldn't believe what happened! My nino wiped out our computer, including this, which I worked sooooooooooo hard on. I rewrote it, but it's not half as good. Excuse any errors. WordPad doesn't pick them up.
Please review. I don't have any comments or threats about putting your testicles in a jar this time. Thanks.