They weren't dissimilar; purposely deemphasized notes woven through a tune to add the subtlest measure of life in a beat of silence. Ghost notes, if Jack remembered the term correctly. Hidden between layers of music and played with restrained measure, he likened them to a whisper that tickled his senses and lured him to a deeper level of listening.
Ghostly they may be, but Jack understood their use to be almost subliminal in effect. A beat or measure held in time, like a spoken word barely heard, but for which he was acutely aware.
He was being ghosted now… in a manner of speaking.
His musical selection rose to meet him; its slightly graceless base given drive by the rise of a score that dragged his emotions down far too low, before jerking them to the rise once again. And in between the peaks and troughs of a song he couldn't recall the name of, were ghostly notes laughing at him.
Laughing with him.
You want me to listen for something that's not there?
They're there, Jack… you just have to open your mind to hear them.
Ghost notes?
There is no such thing as pure silence if you know what to listen for. You just have to believe.
He was right, as Daniel most often was. It didn't matter that Jack couldn't remember the title, or that the words didn't quite makes sense even in the whole scheme of nonsensical song writing, because hidden in pockets of silence that lived for a split second in time, were his ghostly notes.
Will I see you again?
Maybe… I don't know.
Ghostly notes?
If you listen hard, you'll hear me.
Daniel's sad smile still twisted an imagined knife in his heart.