title: Christmas Music
summary: Fado may have hated Christmas music but that didn't stop him from an impromptu concert with his new neighbor.
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He couldn't be the only one in the world who couldn't stand Christmas music, could he? Every shop he went into had some holiday song playing whether be Bing Crosby crooning out Winter Wonderland (or about half the songs on any holiday music discography), the Beach Boys vocalizing in Little Saint Nick, and Mariah Carey belting the lyrics to All I Want For Christmas Is You. And every commercial that aired during the season seemed to have the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24, a composition he performed several times throughout his orchestral career back in high school and college. Eight years of the same chords and finger placements still haunted his dreams whenever the holiday seasons rolled around.
He will admit Thurl Ravencroft and his bass vocal's performing You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch was the only Christmas song he'd voluntarily listen to.
He often caved and played something for those in the holiday spirit whenever he busked between November and December. Though he never actually took rupees or had rupees offered to him so maybe busking wasn't the correct term. Fado enjoyed the beauty of music and the joy of brining music to the masses regardless of the channel through which the music reaches the ears of other people. Which in a way was a bit ironic seeing as he couldn't stand Christmas music. Opening the door to his apartment, Fado reached for his trusty violin from it's case slung over his back – he had found a wonderfully difficult composition when wandering through town. It had been several pages long, his fingers instantly going through each positioning as he read over the sheet music in the shop. Currently his fingers twitched in anticipation to begin working on the piece.
Before he got a chance to start, he heard a garbled melody coming from the apartment above him. Must be the new neighbors. For as long as Fado had lived in this complex, the apartment had been vacant - it had been difficult for the apartment to be rented out. The closer he neared the opposite side of the apartment (his kitchen), the clesrer the music became. Someone had been playing a Christmas song on – was that a harp? He didn't recall a Christmas album being put out solely with a harp. The window in his kitchen never completely closed allowing for the wind to force its way into his apartment. No matter how many times he requested for the superintendent to come in to perform maintenance on it, the wind seemed adamant on entering his kitchen.
That definitely sounded like a harp.
Whatever song his upstairs neighbor had been playing was marked in ¾ time. An eighth note E, eighth note C, a dotted quarter C, eighth note A, dotted half note A. He knew that song… He hummed along with the harp, E-C-C-A-A, E-C-C-A-A… that's the song from Charlie Brown! His fingers gently glided along the neck of his violin, playing the notes in tune with the harp. The next note abruptly stopped – was that not a recording? Had his neighbor been playing an actual harp? Interesting.
He initiated the next move; alternating the tempo just slightly, Fado began playing Feliz Navidad singing the lyrics under his breath. About halfway through his rendition if the song, the harp upstairs layered on a slow, captivating rendition of Blue Christmas.
He found himself quietly singing along to his mystery neighbors unique version, "You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white. But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas."
Taking a page from the stranger's book, he amended an arrangement of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas into something of his own. He could make out the sound of a foot tapping on the floor above, marking time. The harp then once more joined in whatever it was the person was playing sounded akin to something one would have heard back in the Temple of Time. What in the world - then the chorus rang in, both simultaniously eerie and triumphant. "Joy to the world." He muttered. "Other words I don't know. Ba dum, ba dum, ba dahhhh." Did anyone know any of the words except 'Joy to the world'?
He smiled to himself as he went over the few Christmas songs in his repertoire he had left. Would a song played on the ukulele sound well on a violin? Maybe, maybe not. Screw it. Readjusting the violin's position under his chin he began to play Mele Kalikimaka. The harp quieted and a soft laugh carried through the air, a laugh that sounded even more bewitching than the hyponotizing harp harmonies. He toyed with the notion of heading upstairs to introduce himself to his neighbor when a soft composition filled his apartment. He didn't recall this one. Each note carefully plucked. Without missing a beat, he overlayed the gentle melody with his own, his bow gliding across the violin's strings. Blending the two harmonies brought about something unearthly, unnerving - beautiful. His bolder piece juxtaposing his neighbor's more serene one. When the two finished their impromotu concerto, Fado almost found himself climbing the flight of stairs separating the two apartments. The only thing stopping him was his nerves. It's not like he hadn't seen a person in the recent few months - it was the unsettling feeling in his stomach when the person didn't see him. He had been attached to this apartment for a while now, caught in an endless dance of living in a lonely world, his only solace being the company of his violin. The front door creaked open slightly, the two youngest tenants rushing in cheering about whatever made children happy. The smaller of the two raced for the stereo, putting on a Christmas station - Frosty the Snowman happily playing through the speakers. He bit his lip waiting for the person upstairs to continue with their game; the response came in the form of Rudolph the Red-Nose Reindeer. The door opened once more, the parents now entering into the room.
With a sad smile, Fado walked towards the kitchen window, but stopped just short of the glass. They hadnt questioned the harp playing along in a beautiful blend... they couldn't hear it, could they? Walking through the window, Fado sat down on the fire escape, the wind rushing and wiping his hair about. Glancing up he noticed the apartment upstairs to be pitch black - no sign if anyone inside but he could still hear the harp.
I've missed you Laruto.
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Welp.