Author's note: Yeah, put in like a whole heap of Zemyx references, just replaced the names and sorta flung it into a mixer and handed it in as an assignment for appropriations.

The Lovers

On the corner of Sitar and Lexicon street, one would normally find the aspiring musicians. This story brings us to find Jordan, one such person. With his dreams and love for music, he lived out music in every minute of his life. He knew how to love and how to live, and he preformed, every day at the corner, to live out the only thing he knew, music.

Fate had a way of bringing together people. On the corner of Sitar and Lexicon street, you could find empty, beautiful people, struggling to love.

Eurydice was such a person.

To love wasn't easy. To listen to music, and to listen to someone who loved music, was easy.

And she loved to listen to Jordan.

The blond had a session on Saturdays, playing mostly for the hippies that stopped to admire his songs, and stooped down to toss some daisies in the guitar case.

The last song had ended, and the ending chords faded into the wind, he started to stow his guitar. The coins clinked softly in the case. The last of listeners drifted away, chatting softly, and passersby continued on.

He looked up.

Blue eyes met grey.

"I really liked your playing."

He looked curiously at her face and blushed.

"Thank you. I've seen you quite often.. Aren't you the woman who always comes to watch?"

"Yes. Actually. I work here. My name is Eurydice."

"Jordan."

A month had passed, and Eurydice had stayed after every afternoon to talk to him about his songs.

The pattern of conversation changed this time.

"Would you like to go out sometime?"

A flicker of something unsaid hid in the grey eyes.

Pushing the uneasy feeling down, Jordan looked up and smiled.

"Of course."

Jordan clutched his guitar close to him and rung the doorbell, anxiously standing outside the intimidating door. A faint scuffling was heard, and some urgent movement from the other side of the door. The strains of chime filtered through and Eurydice cracked open the door.

"Jordan!" she exclaimed and opened the door a little more, "what are you here for?"

"I just wanted to see if you were free for a bit, that's all," Jordan said , scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Eurydice gave an apologetic smile.

"I'm afraid not right now. I'm a bit busy, I'm going out soon.. But you can come in and take a seat for a while before I go," she suggested.

"That would be great, thanks."

Eurydice ushered him in, cleared something off the table, and she offered him a coffee, before he blushed a bit and held out the present he got her.

"So.. I got you flowers..."

He intertwined his fingers with her limp ones and kissed her lightly on the nose.

He played for her as she slept there, her needles stowed away, only the remains of the euphoric high evident in the erratic breathing.

He stayed there till the sun rose, blissfully unaware.

He brought her to a small cafe,

"I've spent my life alone, and the only partner I've ever want was music. Until I met you. I'll be with you forever... I love you." Jordan grasped her hand. Her eyes moistened and she smiled, pallid.

"I love you too."

The words hung in the air long after they had been spoken.

The same look of emptiness had flashed in her eyes.

She'd given him a set of keys, if he ever wanted to come in.

He went in often, giving her flowers, gifts and waiting for her to come home, to play for her.

He was so happy.

One day, he spotted them.

The needles, laid out in front of her.

She laid there, passed out on the floor.

He couldn't wait till she woke up, and left silently.

"I know about the drugs."

A sad smile and pleading eyes turned to look at him.

"Then play for me. Sing again."

Jordan stayed by her, trying to coax smiles and laughs out of the comatose girl. She requested songs often, smiling whenever he'd play for her.

He'd stay for days on end, never wanting her to touch another needle, and he'd sing till his voice gave out.

She started to lose control when the music died out, blackness chasing her, never letting go.

She didn't tell him.

She stopped trusting in him, unless if he played.

The deafening silence echoed in her brain.

He saw the resistance in her eyes whenever he stopped playing.

When she would finally drift off to sleep, he'd go sit on the couch.

He'd cry.

The sobs against the stillness of the apartment cut.

Jordan went out. He'd scoured the apartment for any spare needles, or anything at all, that would cause Eurydice harm. Placing his guitar, and a flower on it, he left, kissing Eurydice's forehead gently.

It was her birthday. Plans for a cupcake and her favourite song had been mapped out. All that was left, was to buy the cake.

She'd seen the guitar. In a haze, she touched it fondly, and traced a heart over the strings, relishing in the faint pings of notes.

But there was no music.

No happiness.

She blearily registered that she had extras. The last bunch that he hadn't taken.

It wouldn't hurt. After all, how much harm could the small dose be

She fumbled with the needles, and her eyes started to blur.

No music.

Unconsciously, she reached for another one.

She'd slipped in and out of a daze.

Shallow breaths. Rise and fall.

A struggle in her mind. A struggle to register something.

Bright lights. Blue eyes.

Euphoria. Singing.

Intoxication. Jordan.

He stepped into the apartment, cradling the cupcake with the candle on it. The guitar had been moved. Letting a small smile tug at his lips, he quickly lit the candle, and started to sing.

He walked into her room.

It wasn't what he expected.

The floor held her empty, lifeless body.

A heart breaking cry wracked his frame, as he knelt over her.

-
The last chord had been played, and like the candle on the cupcake, happiness, like a light, flickered out.