Hey guys! Just want to apologize for taking so long to update this. I've been struggling a lot with inspiration, plot ideas and my overall mood. I've been really worn out and exhausted. I won't make any more excuses, but I wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten about this, and intend to continue on to the best of my ability. Please be patient with me. And I appreciate any and all feedback, plot ideas, etc. Thanks guys, enjoy!
"Hayton!" Timmy squealed. It was the following day after school, and just like the day they had met, Timmy was at the piano bench playing away. As Hayton stumbled through the door, no longer any hesitation in his steps, Timmy was quick to rush over and engulf him in a huge hug.
"You… choking… can't… breathe…."
"Oh, sorry!" Timmy quickly stepped away. "I was just so excited to see you, is all. Did you get the chance to practice? How far did you get? Have any questions? I brought new material with me today!" Timmy's eyes lit up like a puppy who had just been told he was going outside. Hayton quickly cupped his hand over his mouth and turned away, his body beginning to shake.
"Hay?" Timmy asked softly. "Look, I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel bad…."
Hayton turned around with tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't contain it anymore, he began to laugh hysterically. "BAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAhahahahaHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHA!"
He felt like a fountain had been unstopped in the river of his heart, and flowing through it was joy. Unexplainable and unstoppable joy. Timmy had missed him. Timmy was excited to see him. Timmy was undoubtedly, becoming more than just a teacher, and he was becoming more than just a project. For the first time in years, Hayton had found a friend. A friend who actually cared about him.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hayton exclaimed, tears running down his face. "I.. look like a mess, don't I?"
"Well….. it's a good kind of mess, I guess." He handed him a tissue. "Here, I think you need this."
"Gee, thanks." Hayton looked away and blew his nose. Timmy was staring at him with questions in his eyes, but seemed hesitant to vocalize them. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, he quickly strode over to the piano bench and sat down.
"Well," he sniffled. "I have a lot of progress to show you. And lots of questions. Shall we begin?"
That night, Hayton waltzed in his house, a spring to his step. Having his newfound friend back in school was a huge relief for him, even if they hardly saw each other outside of their private lessons. And realizing that he was even capable of friendship anymore was a huge weight lifted from his shoulders. He felt a twinge of freedom.
"Fuzzzziiiieeeee, I'm HOMMMEEEEEEeeeeEEEE!" He sang, instinctively walking towards the cupboard to give him his supper.
Afterwards, he resumed his normal routine of checking the fridge for food. He stared at the contents for a minute. Finally, he settled on a piece of toast. It wasn't much, but Hayton didn't have a big appetite. Feeling content and full, he made his way to bed and fell asleep.
A few days later, Hayton found himself sitting in a black chair after school, facing his dad's best friend, Gobber.
"So, lad." He leaned back in his chair, trying to look professional. Hayton's dad was a bit concerned about him, so for a few months now Hayton had reluctantly agreed to see Gobber, in a counseling sense of the word. It was an awkward arrangement for both of them.
"How's…. ya'know, life?" He leaned forward intently.
"Is Snotlout still giving you a hard time?"
"Well…." Hayton scratched the back of his head nervously. Should he tell Gobber about Timmy? About Astley? It had only been a couple of weeks now, and Hayton didn't feel right telling him about it. However, he was just bursting to tell someone.
"You see….. I've kinda been…. playing music."
"Wait… you've been WHAT?!"
"I know, I know! It just kinda happened, ok?"
Gobber sighed. "Does your dad know about this, lad?"
"I think you know the answer to that, Gobber. Of course he doesn't! And he can't find out, either."
"So, the whole math team thing….?"
"A lie."
"Huh." Gobber leaned back, looking confused. "How long have you been doing this?"
"Only a few weeks. And, Gobber, I have a friend now. It's amazing! I feel amazing! Ok, maybe not amazing, but you know…. just…. better somehow. And I don't want to stop, ever! I don't understand what's so awful about learning to play music anyways, or why no one will tell me what's so evil about it."
Gobber found himself pleasantly surprised about Hayton's newfound passion and drive, something he'd never had much of. What he also felt, however, was skepticism. Why was he opening up like this? Out of the blue?
"Why did you decide to tell me this? Why now?"
"Well, you see, I didn't mean to fall in love with it but I did. I love music, Gobber, and I want to be able to pursue it on a professional level. And… I was hoping you would tell me what the whole secret is behind why I shouldn't pursue it."
"Well, ummm… Hay, you do know it's probably too late for that? I mean, don't you kinda have to start little for those kinds of careers? Now I'm not sayin' I know what I'm talking about but… Well, even if you COULD make a career out of it….. YER DAD'S GONNA BLOODY MURDER YA BEFORE IT EVER HAPPENS!"
"Ugh, I know! I shouldn't have let it get this far, but it did!" He hung his head.
"Gobber, what am I going to do?"
"Well, lad…. I can't believe I'm saying this, but… I think you should tell him…"
"Are you serious? You JUST SAID HE WOULD KILL ME!"
"True, true." He sighed. "Look, lad, the point of these sessions is to find something to help with your…. umm…. issues." He leaned forward, and sat his face on his hands.
"The truth is I ain't seen you this happy since… well, a few years ago. And if this music's what's doin' it, I don't see any point in stoppin' ya from doin' it. Lad, what if you keep this from him and he finds out from someone else? If he kills you now, he will maim yer body then."
Hayton shudders.
"Gee, thanks. Thanks for that lovely mental image. I think I'll be scarred for life."
Gobber leaned back in his chair, smiling. "Just happy to help."