A/N: Oh goodness, I haven't updated since before the plague! How have you all been? How many signs of the coming apocalypse have you had so far? We've only had the 'rona, the economic recession, and the strongest earthquake in the past 140 years, but looking at world news I think we've had it easy. It was a bumpy ride for the past few months, that's for sure. I hope you all are safe and sound. Also, thank you to the very kind people who have commented in the past few months 3
27. The more people know about me, the more I want to disappear
It was rather immature to avoid Amelija after the previous night, Erik knew. He did it anyway, but he knew by the nagging voice in his head - Antoinette's voice - that it was a rude, immature thing to do to avoid her for that day after she went out of his way to befriend him. It would have been much better if he had stayed home on this warm and sleepy morning, if he played with Alina's hair until she woke up and then joined her and her sister for breakfast. It would have been better and less selfish than marauding around the cliffs and listening to the crashing waves.
He did it anyway.
And he didn't regret it even though he felt slightly guilty. Sitting on one of the more hard-to-reach cliffs he took out the delicate little flute Alina's mother sent him across the ocean and looked at it again in the light of day. It was quite lovely - a simple piece of discreetly carved and decorated wood. He brought it up to his mouth to try playing it as he thought about what he should do.
Until now he did not give a single damn about Alina's family; he had no desire to meet them and frankly saw them as figures in the background that might one day try and take her from him. He resented them for how lonely and out-of-place Alina seemed to feel back home, knowing very well how that felt. If he could have opted out of this whole situation and simply taken her somewhere even further where they couldn't send anyone to find them, he'd be seriously tempted. If he could have disappeared until Amelija was gone without Alina having that unbearably disappointed look in her eyes -
Ah, best not to torture myself with things too good to happen. I'm stuck.
And he was going to lose his mind for sure.
His very limited capacity for people he could stand on a regular basis was already stretched thin, and those people were carefully picked as trustworthy and comforting. He handpicked and tested each and every one of the people he considered friends, and knowing that, it was easier than expected to genuinely care about them.
Being thrown into a melting pot of strange, difficult, temperamental people he'd never met but was suddenly connected to was the last thing he wanted, and he honestly never expected it - how was he supposed to know they'd start treating him like family? He correctly guessed that Amelija's visit was a sort of check on him personally; but he never expected anything to happen if he passed it, only a disaster in waiting if he failed.
Well, he hadn't failed so far, judging by how much she tried to get along with him even though he obviously annoyed the life out of her.
That makes both of us.
This flute makes such a sweet, soft sound. I feel like I'm playing lullabies for birds and deer in some flowery meadow.
Fine, you two-faced, annoying little wench. I'll be your friend. I just don't know how.
It was impossible to figure out how people like Amelija expected him to act, because he'd never spent much time among civilised society and well-raised individuals. While reading a book of rules and etiquette was easy, he was smart enough to know reacting on the spot to a certain situation was supposed to be quick and spontaneous - he couldn't just start acting the right way without practice, and he won't be getting practice anytime soon. He could only act like himself and hope for the best. Except he detested that idea so much he rather said and did as little as possible, melting away into the background like a shadow.
Background shadows cannot make terrible mistakes.
Ah, but ghosts can, can't they? At least one of them can. It seems no matter how much he hides, the worst things still remain visible.
He put the flute down, now considerably annoyed.
Who cares if you say or do something stupid and rude on accident? Are you really trying to convince yourself that's what you're afraid of - being rude or offending her? Do you think it would matter at all? Since when is that sort of trivial nonsense important to you?
Other people's feelings are not trivial nonsense.
Well, who cares if she gets offended by something minor? She's bound to get much worse than offended if she finds out who and what you really are. You won't hide the rot behind kind words and niceties; she's too smart not to notice it. Alina noticed it right away, she just didn't care for whatever reason. It's literally right there, on your he-
That was enough. Whatever conclusion or epiphany he was hoping to achieve here, he was now farther from it than when he started. He stood up furiously and hopped off the cliff, deciding he might actually benefit from someone who would put an end to his nonsense, since he was unable to do it himself.
ooo
It was more of a rapping than a knock at the door - tappy-taptap - quiet and shy; Amelija, immersed in her own thoughts, almost didn't hear it.
"Amelija, can you get that for me?" Alina said over her shoulder, gently stirring the pot of stuffed peppers on the stove. "I'm somewhat occupied."
Amelija stood up obediently and walked over to the door. "Are you expecting someone?"
"No, but open anyway. Could be urgent."
Amelija opened the door, frowning at nothing for a moment before she thought to cast her glance down. In front of her was a short, slightly messy-looking boy with very distinct blue eyes on an otherwise plain face. He frowned back at her, mimicking her own confusion.
"Yes?" she asked.
"I'm looking for Miss Boričević. Is she here?"
"Yes, I'm her." Amelija answered automatically without thinking.
"I need a specific one, and you're not her", he replied with raised eyebrows. "Are there any more of you here?"
Amelija narrowed her eyes at him. "Alina, this clever young man wants to see you."
Alina's head finally turned to the door. "Walter!"
"Good day, Miss", Walter replied, his expression suddenly becoming a lot less hostile. He tipped his hat and half-smiled at her shyly. "Sorry if I'm bothering you. I'm returning your book." he held out the book towards Alina disregarding Amelija in front of him, still standing in the doorway.
"Walter, for goodness' sake, what is that nonsense? Come in already!" Alina laughed, putting her arm around his shoulders and leading him inside. "You're not bothering me at all, in fact, I'm glad you decided to visit over the summer. This is my sister, Amelija. Amelija, this is Walter, one of my best students."
Amelija smiled at the boy, wondering what the rest of them were like if this rude brat was one of the best.
"I'm not", Walter grinned at her. "I'm terrible."
Alina laughed. "You won't lose the crown off your head if you accept a single compliment for once. How have you been?"
"Eh, I'm alright." Walter shrugged, sitting on the chair she drew out for him. "Went fishing yesterday.
"What did you catch?"
"Fish." Walter raised his eyebrows at Alina in the same manner he had at Amelija, but his eyes were twinkling with friendly humor instead of hostility. "No idea what kind it was, I don't really care about fishing. I just like to watch Hank and Sam lose their minds, fighting over bait and finding the best spot."
"And how was the book?" Alina asked, bringing Walter a fresh glass of lemonade before sitting across from him. "Was it too difficult? It's objectively quite difficult."
Amelija cast a look at the book in question - it was actually a textbook with the title Geometry written on the front. She took it with interest - it seemed to be written for students a few years older than Walter.
"Nah, I mean, reading it was a bore, so I didn't exactly read everything", Walter shifted in his seat nervously. "I mostly solved the problems, that was fun."
"How did you know how to solve the problems without reading it?" Alina asked him, slightly confused.
"Well, I would read some parts if I really couldn't figure it out", Walter scratched his head. "Mostly I looked at the examples and solutions, then did the same with the exercises. It wasn't that hard. I checked in the solutions later, it was mostly right."
Alina blinked.
"Yeah, okay, I know I said I'd practice reading", Walter hurried, "but this was just so boring. They explain every single step of every problem. I couldn't stand it. I'll read something interesting instead, can I do that?"
Alina's face beamed as her mouth spread into a huge smile. She gripped the edges of the table in excitement; her eyes twinkled with joy. "Walter, you're a genius! Great job! I can't believe you figured it out on your own, that's brilliant!"
"These are really not that easy", Amelija remarked with her nose in the book. Well, they were easy enough for her, but she couldn't tell how hard they would be for a child - especially with no adults around to help. The boy looked to be twelve or thirteen, although it was hard to tell. Could it be that he lied about reading it? She wondered. But then again, there were notes on the margins, and Amelija was quite certain no adult would have made them, not with that handwriting.
"I'm not sure what to teach you anymore", Alina laughed. "You can just teach yourself everything!"
"But I won't", Walter replied. "Not the boring stuff. I have standards."
"Obviously", Alina threw her hands in the air in mock annoyance. "Alright, well, great job. I'll think of something new to give you in a few days, meanwhile, you might as well enjoy your summer outside. Your brain might boil if you over-strain it."
"Just a second", Amelija lowered the book. "Walter, is it? Can I ask you something?"
"Yeaaaah?" Walter drawled with slight suspicion.
"Let's say you have a circle- alright, let's not be boring, let's have a cake", Amelija said, her finger drawing a circle on the table. "If you know the diameter of the cake is, let's say… do you use inches or centim- nevermind, let's use inches. Ten inches is the diameter. Would you be able to tell me the surface area of the circle?"
"Yeah, that's easy", Walter puffed. "The surface area has that one formula. Radius squared, multiplied by pi. That would be… three hundred and fourteen square inches. No, wait", he said as Amelija opened her mouth to correct him. "That's too much for just one cake. Diameter is ten, then the radius is five. Okay. Five squared is twenty-five, times pi… Can I have a pencil?"
"No need", Amelija said. "Twenty-five times pi, square inches, is close enough. Say, if I asked you to calculate the surface of one slice, could you do it?"
"Yeah. How many slices are there?"
"Not so fast", Amelija waved her finger. "That would be too easy. I can't tell you how many slices there are, but I can tell you that the central angle, whatever you people call it, where the slice connects to the rest of the cake, is twenty degrees. Could you then do it?"
"Yea, but then I still need a pencil and paper." Walt shrugged.
"Really", Amelija crossed her arms, smiling with interest. "Do you know the formula for the surface of a circle's sector?"
"No", Walter frowned. "Why would I memorize every single formula?"
"It's right here", she pointed at the page of the book with something scribbled on the margins. "Did you write this?"
"I did", Walter replied. "But you don't need to know it by heart. You can just derive it from the other formula, if needed, because the proportion of the angle to the whole circle is the same as the proportion of the surfaces. So the book said. That's how I do it."
Amelija blinked, paying little mind to Alina who winked proudly at Walter next to her. "Alright, I think it's time I give you a pencil and paper, because I really want to see this."
ooo
"Hello, Jack", Erik said in a recognizably flat tone that told Jack everything he needed to know as he opened the door cheerfully. "Am I bothering you?"
"Not at all, not at all." Jack smiled sincerely and gestured for him to come inside. Whatever Erik needed, he knew already he wouldn't say it out on the street. "Please, come in."
"Thank you."
As Erik entered and Jack closed the door behind him, Jack coughed and said, "Actually, I have to warn you I'm not alone. I have a guest who came this morning, but-"
"You should've said so. I'll just go", Erik moved towards the door, but Jack stopped him.
"Listen to me. I have a guest who might be very interesting to you for reasons you'll immediately understand. If you want to, you can leave, but it'll just take a few minutes of your time."
Erik blinked. "What?"
"Can you, please, just for once do as I ask and ask questions later?"
Erik shrugged. "I could."
"Thank you kindly." Jack gave him a playful eye-roll as he opened the door and led him to his living room. "Erik, this is Fritz Heidel, my friend since long ago. Fritz, this is Erik, my friend since recently."
The man sitting in Jack's armchair was somewhat stocky and had slightly messy, salt-and-pepper hair. His square face was framed by a pair of prominent eyebrows, which were now raised slightly in surprise; this was unnerving as his overall appearance gave the impression of someone who generally didn't get surprised easily.
The introduction was redundant from Erik's point. Erik knew very well who Fritz Heidel was.
He knew about him the same way he knew about most things happening in New York - through reading the news and shameless eavesdropping. He'd seen Heidel before and he'd heard people talk about him, and seeing as he thought it might potentially be relevant to him in the future, he paid attention.
The matter of fact was, Heidel was a conductor.
Not just any conductor, either - he conducted concerts for the New York Philharmonic Orchestra, as well as holding a professor's chair in the Conservatory. It was a respectable position, one that seemed in Heidel's case well-deserved - the man was seemingly the embodiment of several centuries' worth of tradition in search for artistic perfection. Erik had attended both his concerts and his lectures last Spring, always sneaking in secretly and leaving before anyone noticed him, and he had to admit that his concerts - solemn, serious and dignified - were always marked by absolute excellence from all parties involved. Heidel was more an institution than a man, and one that not many were invited to attend. As closely as he seemed to pay attention to all his students and subordinates, it was fair to assume that Heidel nevertheless never noticed him there, and the expression on the man's face suggested he was right.
Erik stood there, starstruck and horrified, as Heidel blinked a little in confusion. Jack closed the door and walked over to his usual armchair, and that seemed to snap Heidel out of his trance - he stood up and offered Erik his hand, nodding and muttering something similar to "nice to meet you". Erik, on his part, took his hand but said nothing and simply kept staring at him. He looks so normal up close, he thought. And so much smaller.
"Erik", Jack coughed, "Would you like to sit?"
Erik suddenly realized he was still towering over them, then sat down as quickly as humanly possible in very obvious embarrassment. He could hear Jack offering him something to drink from what seemed a very long distance, but refused it. He had a feeling it would significantly raise his chances of embarrassing himself further. He forced himself to look at Jack as he refused, even if he had a strong need to keep his eyes on Heidel like prey looking in terror at its stalking predator.
Although, to be fair, while Heidel seemed to be slightly uncomfortable himself and at a loss for what to say, he didn't seem particularly disgusted at the sight of him. Erik scratched slightly at the ties of his mask in a nervous tick, reminding himself it was still in place.
"Well", Jack said with his usual outward cheer and charm as he died inside at the sight of Erik's conversational incompetence, "this is strange. You two have more in common with each other than with me. I'm giving it five minutes before you start yapping about music or whatever and ditch me entirely. Fritz, I want you to remember I was the one who first introduced you to this very, very talented young man."
"Oh", Heidel said with mild interest. "You're a musician?"
"I-" Erik stuttered. "Sometimes?"
"Sometimes?" Heidel raised his eyebrows at him in an arrogant gesture Erik imagined to have terrified generations and generations of Conservatory students over the years. "In my line of work, you either are, or you aren't one. What do you do?"
"I-" he almost told him, he wanted so badly to tell him and let him know he agreed with him but it was already too late to correct himself and well, maybe you should scramble for his validation like some teenage fool, that'll impress him - "I, uh, I just want to say I've seen you conduct Dvorak's Requiem this Spring. I- I was surprised to see something so new, from Europe, come all the way here - I liked how - I liked how heavy it sounded. It- it- it was so heavy and dark, and I liked that you went with that, instead of trying to mellow it down and make it more palatable." He blurted it all out in one breath, his eyes darting around the room, then closed his mouth and looked at his hands. Oh, how brave! How eloquently you used to criticize people around you when they weren't up to your standards, whispering from the shadows and pulling at their insecurities! Were you always this cowardly underneath? Is it because you actually respect this man, or just because he can actually see you?
Heidel looked at him a little less sternly, then laughed. "Well, what would have been the point of it? It's a funeral mass. If people pay to hear me conduct a funeral mass, they're going to leave feeling like they died. They can only blame themselves; it was right there in the title."
"Yes", Erik muttered at his knuckles. "Yes, it was exactly what I was hoping for."
"Well, sir, you do know me then, but I don't know you", Heidel reclined in his armchair, intertwining his fingers in his lap with an air of languid confidence. "What did you say you do, again?"
"I didn't say", Erik admitted as Jack shot him a very venomous glare across the room. "I- I- that is, I mean, I am not actually a professional musician." he looked back at Jack with hot, embarrassed fury, because he knew even if Heidel might lose interest and hopefully drop the subject now, Jack would sure as all hell not let it go so easily -
"No, not professional, but only because he isn't making money from it yet", Jack laughed, "But I'm willing to bet not even you, Fritz, would be able to tell as much if you heard him."
"Heard what?" Heidel raised his hands in amused confusion; he couldn't tell what was going on exactly, but after all these years he could definitely recognize stage fright when he saw it. "Not that I don't believe you, Jack, but heard what exactly? Maybe I've already heard it, I just don't know it yet."
"No", Erik whispered, "You definitely haven't."
Heidel looked like he wanted to tease him some more, but then decided against it. Instead, he kept silent for a moment as he sipped his drink and studied Erik carefully.
"Oh, I'm getting hungry. I'll get us something to last us until dinner, maybe some crackers", Jack announced, getting up. "Erik, could you come along and help me?"
"Right", Erik stood up abruptly and followed Jack into the small kitchen, where as soon as the door closed he was met with another annoyed glare.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jack whispered through his teeth. "Why can't you be civil for five goddamn minutes? Fritz is - "
"Did you set this up?" Erik asked quietly, with a very slow and restrained tone in his voice that made Jack pause slightly. "I'm not in the mood to be thrown directly into fire. I have things on my mind."
"No?" Jack frowned. "How could I have known you'd come today? No, Fritz really is my friend, and he came to visit me. Which would be a remarkably beneficial coincidence for you", he pointed an angry finger at Erik, "If you could behave for, I don't know, a second or two and talk to him like an adult! Are you suddenly some kid who just learned Twinkle, twinkle little star on the piano? Get a hold of yourself! Don't pretend like you don't have an entire symphony in your jacket pocket!"
"I don't." Erik crossed his arms defiantly, wondering how Jack knew that and whether it was actually that obvious or Alina simply told him.
Jack rolled his eyes.
"It's just one movement", Erik mumbled, looking away.
"Well, whatever that means it's beside the point -"
"I haven't finished it", Erik interrupted. "And, besides, what do you want me to do? Beg him to take a look at it while he's on his day off having a drink with you? You want me to crawl for his attention? How pathetic do you th- "
"What?" Jack snarled. "I don't give a damn what exactly you do! Fritz has connections, and you'd be stupid or insane or both not to at least let him know you're a musician looking for work, if you're already so incredibly shy you can't talk to him like a normal person about a shared passion! What, do you think you're secretly so terrible at it that he'll laugh at you? Are you really so fragile that -" he trailed off, eyes widening as he looked at Erik, who still fumed silently with his arms crossed. "Oh."
"Say another word and that'll be the last time we speak", he said, in that same flat tone that meant nothing good.
Jack nodded slowly, suddenly serious. A moment passed in silence.
"Could you, please, take this bowl of crackers to the living room?" Jack asked. Erik took the bowl obediently, and Jack pretended not to notice the ever-so-slight twitch of his fingers.
"Fritz is a good guy", Jack said after Erik turned to exit the room. "I mean, he's a bit full of himself, but he's not such a snob. He's good to his colleagues."
Erik studied the bowl in his hands. "I know. I've seen him teach." that will make it worse if he hates me, he would have maybe added in a million years on a good day. He didn't actually know if he was going to sit down again or just keep walking out of the house until he actually lowered the small bowl on the table and felt his knees buckling to sit down against his will. Heidel thanked him politely and helped himself to some crackers, pretending to be blissfully unaware of the drama that was going on.
"I play violin", Erik forced out, the word fragile still echoing mockingly in his skull. "I've tried other things, but I suppose I always come back to it. I have no formal education, only what I could pick up from books and looking at other people. A few years ago, I started composing."
"I see", Heidel said in a very carefree tone. "It takes a lot to learn violin all by yourself."
"Well, I am somewhat pathologically persistent." maniacally obsessive would probably have been more accurate.
"Are you good at it?" Heidel raised his eyebrows at him again, like a professor challenging his students on the final exam.
"I'd say I'm good at playing the violin", Erik said, still faking confidence through sheer spite, "but I can't say much about my compositions. They're different, that much I'm certain of."
"Ah", Heidel smiled at him somewhat smugly; he did always like students who had a little backbone. "How are they different?"
"I don't exactly know. I've never performed for an audience." unless my lover counts? She likes them, would you like her recommendation? She's very good at talking, unlike me, perhaps she can explain.
"That sounds intriguing", Heidel replied. "If you ever do perform for an audience, I just might find myself in it. I do sometimes enjoy different music."
"I could save you the trouble", Erik said, still flying on wings of spite as his mind kept screaming in the background, "I could show you an example of it, and if it's not to your liking you don't have to waste your time." he promptly took the neatly folded bunch of papers out of his jacket pocket, smoothed them out and laid them with pretend nonchalance out on the table. Heidel looked highly amused with the whole show, and Erik felt intoxicated with a sort of defiant pride as he leaned back. For a second he even thought it wouldn't matter what the man said - he liked his own compositions, he actually showed them to him, and that would be victory enough.
That sense of confidence lasted for a whole proud minute, and deflated as soon as Heidel put down his glass and picked up the papers, now with genuine interest and curiosity. Smugness and irony left Heidel's face as Jack finally entered the room again and sat down, giving Erik another glare - this one something between pride and annoyance.
Panic kicked in as Heidel read page after page in complete silence, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning. Erik almost stood up and left a thousand times by the time he finished and finally looked up at him, serious. "You wrote this, then?"
"I did", he replied.
"I… I see", Heidel looked through the papers again, seemingly unsure what to say.
"If I may ask, why do you suddenly switch to E minor on this part of the page?" Heidel held up the page he was reading, holding it with noticeably more care than before.
"I- because the mood changes", Erik said, his ears burning from how idiotic he sounded to himself. He couldn't actually remember why he did it that way - he just wrote it down long ago and then glossed over that part.
"I see that, yes, I was just wondering if this might be done more smoothly if you just - over here, you tone it down to pianissimo and put a pause here for the violins, then they might start the new theme quietly as everything goes into crescendo again - what do you think?"
"I think - I think that would be better", Erik said, nearly paralyzed with embarrassment.
"There are a few more things I'd like to discuss - technical things, but overall - is this your first independent composing work?"
"I- the first finished one, so to speak, yes."
"Well, that's fantastic", Heidel said seriously, waving Erik's notes in the air. "This is some of the most creative, imaginative, inspired work I've ever heard, and I don't say this lightly. It just needs some polishing before it's ready to be performed - I am, in all honesty, impressed."
Erik nodded staring at the paper where Heidel pointed, his head spinning with the intensity of what the man was saying - it was too much for him to make sense of it at once; the compliments were more than he ever imagined - but what was that about polishing? A piece of music is either good or it isn't, he thought; either it makes you dream or it doesn't. Does that mean this doesn't? Would Heidel lie? It doesn't seem like he would bother lying. He tried hard to put everything he said in its respective box - good, but also needs work, but also good. Alright. I suppose in some other person's head those two might coexist - ah, this is probably why I was such a horrible music teacher.
Heidel was growing impatient with the young man staring intently at the paper in his hand.
"Well, then?" he asked.
"I would like it to remain as it is", Erik admitted quietly.
"In that case, I'll be honest with you", Heidel returned the papers to him. "Some parts are rather raw. I can appreciate what you were going for, but the audience - and the performers - might not. I can understand not wanting to sacrifice your artistic freedom, but - it won't hurt to try. If you're interested, I could offer some help. Once the work is finished, you'd be able to find an orchestra a lot easier if you tweak it just a little to New York's, ah, artistic sensibilities."
Erik was looking at him with pure fury now, and the next thing he would've said would probably have been extremely imprudent had Jack not started talking before he could even open his mouth.
"Fritz, but I think you're being a bit harsh", he laughed. "You're criticizing his first child, and that's never easy to hear. I think anyone in Erik's position would prefer to think about it first before he decides anything. Don't you think so?"
"Of course, of course, I wasn't going to get a pencil and start crossing out parts right away", Heidel laughed. "I don't think of myself so highly yet."
"That's good to know", Erik said quietly in a tone that only slightly resembled hissing.
"Neither does Erik", Jack looked at him with murder in his eyes. "And he certainly doesn't think so highly of himself to disregard in advance the advice of someone with your level of education and influence."
The three of them smiled at each other in silence for a second as Jack poured himself a second glass of whiskey, thinking about whether he should maybe give Erik a bill for all the alcohol he consumed to put up with him lately.
"Thank you for your advice", Erik said, bowing his head very slightly while looking down at the table. "Honestly. It… it makes sense, what you're saying. I'd just like to think about it."
ooo
Alina opened the door and rushed out without looking as she usually did to once again collide head-on with her lover's chest, who stumbled along with her and gripped her shoulders to steady her. Erik sometimes wondered if she was actually aware that his reflexes were in reality fast enough to avoid her, and if she, too, liked the act of simply allowing her to bump into him and then throw her arms around him as she was doing now.
"Hello, darling", she purred gently. "It's good to have you back. How has your day been?"
"It's better now", he whispered slowly into her hair as the tight knot in his shoulders gently unraveled.
"I was wondering what kept you so long", she lifted her chin up to look at him. "We were just about to go out."
"I'm sorry. Jack kept me - I'll tell you about it later."
"Oh, alright. We're just going to take a walk - do you want to come along?" Alina asked, giving him one of her sweet smiles that wrinkled the corners of her dark eyes. He was still holding her shoulders, and he felt his thumb run across her arm a little bit.
"I was actually going to - oh, to hell with it. If you're inviting me, I'll go." Amelija exited the house and closed the door, but he was still distracted looking at Alina. It didn't really matter in that moment what embarrassment he might put himself up to if she'd keep smiling at him like that.
"Alright", she wrapped her arm around his and waited for her sister to catch up. "Anyway, Walter visited while you were away."
"Oh." they started walking along the path, Alina in the middle with Erik and Amelija on each of her sides. Amelija was uncharacteristically quiet. "And?"
"Apparently, he taught himself geometry while only kind-of reading some of the book and solving the problems."
"I really thought that book would last him longer."
"So did I, because I thought he'd have to read the actual text to understand the math and reading would have taken much longer, but apparently, it was much easier to power through the math on trial and error and ignore the instructions." she waved her hand, gesturing with frustration."Kids! You never know what they're going to do, but you can be sure it's not what you want them to do."
"And how do you know he didn't just learn it all wrong?" Erik laughed.
"I tested him", Amelija chimed in quietly. Her usual confident attitude seemed somewhat deflated. "He solved almost everything correctly", she shrugged with slight defeat. "When I asked him to explain how he did it - well, he certainly has his own way of understanding things, but his logic is sound. It's just not how, uh, normal people would conventionally think."
"Hm", Erik nodded to himself. Just when Amelija expected him to shut in as he normally did when she entered the conversation, he asked, "Are you well-learned in mathematics and such yourself?"
"I'd like to think that I am", she answered, unsure if he was trying to mock her, but his tone had no sarcasm once again - just a genuine question phrased in a strangely blunt way, which she struggled to also answer bluntly. "I've had some renowned tutors, and I was among their more advanced students."
"Then he's lucky", he replied. "He might learn something new from you while you're here."
"I… suppose", Amelija blinked at that unexpected compliment. Alina made no sound, but her grip on his arm tightened very slightly.
"That's true. I think Walter is hungry for some knowledge and guidance", Alina remarked, "even if he sometimes seems like all he wants to do is prove that he doesn't need anyone."
"I'm not sure I want a sassy child in my daily schedule." Amelija mumbled under her chin.
"Oh, I felt the same", Erik retorted before Alina could start talking her into it, "unfortunately, it's not up to you. Walter's tenacity when some subject catches his interest is astounding; your best bet is to give him tasks hard or extensive enough that they will occupy him long enough that you can get some peace."
"And you're speaking from personal experience?" Amelija raised a judgmental eyebrow at him.
"Oh, yes. If you don't have Alina's patience and kindness, which I don't", he bowed his head humbly at Alina who rolled her eyes, "you have to resort to other solutions to keep your peace and quiet. I've had quite a lot of experience avoiding her large flock of children until she can deal with them herself."
"I see", Amelija smiled a sincerely mischievous smile at him for the first time. "Sound advice, from one unkind and impatient arse to another."
ooo
He played along. The sisters' talking and bickering was a welcome distraction from the hurricane in his mind, and even though it exhausted him tremendously to constantly pay attention to his surroundings and the conversation, he gave a few tentative attempts to participate - but still, as Amelija excused herself in the evening and left them alone in the kitchen to go sleep in her room, he breathed a sigh of relief. He grabbed a plate to finally eat his first meal of the day now that he could relax, and sat opposite to Alina who took her hairpins out and ruffled her hair.
"What happened with Jack?" she asked, relaxing her head on her hand.
"Nothing. Everything is perfectly normal with Jack", he replied tensely. "Why are you asking?"
"You know why I'm asking", she smiled. "You're distressed."
"Am I so fragile that I cannot handle a little distress?" he hissed, looking angrily at his plate, when he noticed her frowning and pulling back a little in the corner of his eye.
"I'm sorry. That was not directed at you in the slightest." Erik sighed, rubbing his temple. "Please don't look at me like that. I've had a long day, and as I said I'm sorry."
Alina nodded, still looking slightly annoyed.
"Fine." he told her everything that happened since the morning - starting with the fleeting almost-admission of his wariness about her family, and ending with everything that happened with Jack and Heidel.
Alina listened silently, then nodded once again when he was done, moving to sit next to him.
"I don't know what to think about it all", he admitted.
Alina shrugged. "It sounds to me like you've maybe made a... friend who is also a musician."
"No?" he turned to her in surprise. "For that to happen, wouldn't he actually have to like me? I don't feel like I've made a particularly good impression for now."
"I, uh, I hate to tell you this, darling", she shifted slightly in embarrassment, "but you, uh, never make a very warm and friendly impression when you meet someone. And yet we're all here."
He paused, then let out a short, quiet laugh. "That was painful, but deserved."
"When we met, you -"
"Yes, I'm aware", he interrupted gently, taking her hand in his. "When we met, I said a great many disturbing things, and you sat there, listened politely, pretending very hard not to be scared, as I pretended very hard not to be completely enchanted. But," he waved his free hand, "if I'm being honest, I wasn't trying very hard to be polite to Heidel, and I didn't consider him as a friend as much as I was worried what he'd think about me as a musician."
"Luckily, he seems to think highly of you."
"Do you think so?" Erik scratched at his temple. "I'm not entirely sure what to think. I think someone of his caliber wouldn't bother trying to help me if he disliked what he saw - but -"
"But it bothers you that he doesn't think it's perfect", Alina mused. "He sees… mistakes."
"Yes", he admitted quietly.
"Hm." she paused for a moment as she tried to think of something useful to say. The concept of mistakes always seemed to burn like hot iron in Erik's mind. A work that is perfect would be untouchable, she realized. It wouldn't be subject to analyzing, poking, prodding and criticizing - it would simply be- worthy of - Alina knew what it would be worthy of, but she doubted Erik wanted to talk about it so openly.
"I think it's juvenile of me to take this so personally", he admitted. "Jack is right, I- I should be able to talk to other musicians normally. It's the most natural thing in the world for most people."
"And for you?"
"Frankly, I would like to go to that cave a few miles from here and never emerge back to the surface until Heidel forgets he ever saw me or a single note I wrote down. It seems I am too, well, fragile." he shook his head. That one remark stung him where it hurt - it was much worse than simply being told he was being rude, to be made aware of how obvious it was that he was, in fact, afraid.
"Everyone is fragile", Alina shrugged. "And Jack likes to call you names when he's mad at you. I don't think he meant anything by it."
Erik kept silent, staring stubbornly ahead.
"I think he only does it when everything else fails", Alina stretched and continued before Erik could say anything else, "In any case, I have to say, that was an impressive amount of composure on your side. If I wasin that situation - I don't know, I think I'd be terrified. Maybe I'd just leave."
"I was", Erik replied barely above a whisper. "And I almost did."
"Ah, but you didn't."
"No." he bit his lip. "And now there is no going back. I have to see it through."
"No?" Alina smiled at him slightly. "You don't have to, you can simply never meet Heidel or mention it to him ever again."
"Oh, no", he shook his head, letting out a short laugh. "You know me better than that. I have to do it now, or I'll eat myself alive."
"Alright, yes, I was just teasing you", she laughed back. "Once you're a famous musician, I do hope I'll get to hear your music."
"Once I'm a famous musician", he repeated mockingly as he stood up and pulled her by her hands, spinning her around, "as opposed to, say, hearing it every day all through your own house?"
END OF CHAPTER