Before Part 2: Go The Distance

He was in his room, mind still spinning with the day's events. What turned into him being stuck at school a bit longer than he thought he would have ended up turning into hours, so much so that the sun had gone down and he ended up needing to find his way home through a combination of bus routes that took him through at least one part of the city he hadn't seen before, gave him a craving for pizza with gravy on it, and made him wonder if combining the subway system with a roller coaster was a good idea. Though he was a bit weirded out by a guy on the subway who was trying to eat a spaghetti dinner through his nose.

Still, it didn't both him, he had his notebook open in front of him, the various ideas for songs that he and Mao came up with all written down in partially legible writing. Well, to be fair most to of those ideas were his, with Mao slower to open up about it, but there were some where the ideas bounced off each other in a way that he couldn't be sure whose idea it really was, but it was formed through what almost seemed to be a spark of magic.

Neal laid on his bed, his right leg leaning off the bed, tapping the frame to the beat of the song he had written down, the rest of the instruments filling his mind. He started to sing as well, the ideas of feelings that could reach across any distance filling him with such excitement. He wanted to scream out those lyrics and bring the song to life in what little ways he could, but knew that the family wouldn't appreciate him screaming at the top of his lungs at midnight. His older brother Jordan and younger sister Kaitlyn were across the hall already asleep, not to mention his parents downstairs. He even thought about going into the backyard to sing instead, but with there still some snow on the ground, that would be a crazy thing to do.

But sometimes the pursuit of art requires kicking reason to the curb. So he ran outside, feeling the cold of the winter air on him, but the thrill of the chill running through is body combined with all the ideas he had, just made him even more excited. Getting far enough away from the house to hopefully not alert his family to anything weird, though he was pretty sure coming home late and eating dinner without paying attention to them was at least a little non-normal. Then again, being a teenager made that come with the territory.

But still, out on his own, he started yelling the lyrics, about how he wasn't someone to give up on unrealistic dreams, or someone who could ever fly away, when others felt like they were going to sink. There were times when life was hard, but as he spun and danced to his own rhythm, he wanted to think that he could maybe make things better. Maybe given them a reason to believe. Maybe teach the people about justice, friendship, or perseverance, just like other great artists had over the years. Maybe it wasn't so impossible. Maybe it was worthwhile to believe.

And as those thoughts ran through his head, another song was born. He took out the notebook he always had in his pocket, this one small, but one kept because you never know when the great ideas will come.

Maybe it's a hard road

Maybe it's just to far

Maybe it's impossible

Maybe it's so hard.

He wrote, loving the repetition, the rhythm, and tried to think of more, force himself to write more to figure out what should come next. Was this the verse or the chorus, he wasn't sure. But it was music, the power within him that he was so close to unlocking was truly something amazing, and a euphoria that went beyond anything he had felt in his life. Even in the imperfect state of the art he created, it was still him, an extension of him just like an arm or a leg.

But I don't believe in

Anything that I can't see

So I look you in the eyes

And I believe in you and me

Again, the words written that he wasn't sure of the quality, if they were good, but they were his, what he was feeling. He didn't know who he was talking to here, if it was just someone imaginary, someone who stood before him at a time. But that didn't matter, he sang the words out for the creatures of the night, the animals that were probably really wondering what this strange human being was doing at this time of night.

But what he didn't know was that his audience was one more than he knew of. Not an animal of the night who was fleeing, but instead a person who slowly clapped her hands and walked toward him. "So do you always put on a show at midnight?" she asked.

He turned to face her, a little bit surprised, and a lot embarrassed as he did so. He wondered if he could just run away and pretend like he was never hear. But then again, this was his home, and under the faint glow of the city and the moon, he was pretty sure that she could see what he looked like. Maybe bribery would work, he did have a little bit of cash, but then that could just lead to all kinds of problems.

So he instead had to use the perfect reply to diffuse all of the tension and make everything better.

"Hi."

That wasn't it. But he couldn't think of anything else.

"Hi yourself," she said continuing to get close to him.

"So want to pretend this never happened?"

"Why?"

That really wasn't the type of answer Neal wanted her to get. "D-do you have to ask?" Yep, he was screwed. His social life would be ruined because he'd forever be known as the guy who liked to scream non-sensical song lyrics at midnight, and unlike certain bands, he wasn't famous enough to get away with it. Maybe doing more drugs would help.

She did laugh at that, but tried to reassure him anyway. "I thought it was cool. You're a musician?" she asked, though he really didn't feel any better after hearing her words.

"Not really," he admitted, really wishing that she'd just go home and leave him alone. He did try to figure out who she could be, but despite looking like his age, he hasn't seen her before, and while he didn't know everyone in his school, he thought that he'd at least recognize this person who was wearing a red coat and black leggings it looked like, though color was hard to make out due to the lack of light. "So I don't think I know you," he said, a bit awkwardly, though hoping to get the attention off himself.

"Not surprising, I just moved in today," she explained, which did make some sense at least as to why she seemed so unfamiliar.

Neal was a bit surprised that he hadn't noticed anything about the neighbor moving when she pointed to the house right next to his. Sure, he might have been in school most of the time but at the very least he should have noticed something. "Well, welcome to the neighborhood I guess," he said, wondering if that came across too sarcastically. He really needed to remember that some things were best said without sarcasm.

"Thanks, the move actually got my mom to put down the Christmas decorations at least."

"She's a big holiday fan?" Neal asked.

"Well, somewhat. Admittingly, she did seem to play some sort of Christmas movie or special every night in December, but it was also the fact that we were so busy there wasn't really time to take them down. She figured that they might as well just wait till we moved so they only had to pack everything up," Scarlet explained. It did seem like she was frustrated by the way that Neal heard her describe it.

"Maybe things will calm down after this move, and she'll only have the decorations up during December.

"We'll see," Scarlet said walking further into Neal's backyard, seeing all the lights overhead as dim as they were against the backdrop of the city in the other direction. "They always find a reason, you know. A big project at work, or a deadline that keeps being extended." She paused for a second after sighing. "Sorry, I know you didn't come out here to hear some chick you just met rant about her parents."

"No, it's okay. I was kind of out here for the same reason, wanting to get some things out of me," Neal said.

"That song?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"You in a band?"

Neal didn't know how to answer that question. Well, the truth is no, but sometimes the truth is more than the simple answer. He had thought about it, dreamed about it more times than he could count. But actually making that dream reality? He wasn't sure if he actually could. Sure, he had the idea of the songs, could kind of play guitar, but could he really be part of a band. "No," he said with the simple truth.

"That's a shame, you seem like you'd have a good stage presence. I wanted to watch more."

And now the embarrassment came back. He really thought that now would be a good time to go back inside and sleep. Or do that homework he had forgotten about. Oh well, it's not like the homework was that important and that not doing it would greatly affect his life in anyway 10 years from now. "Thanks, I guess."

"I really mean it. I've been taking lessons on the piano for all my life, wherever my family moves. But I've never been in a place big enough to really be involved in music."

"Not with your school?" Neal asked.

"Nah," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I mean, the schools have some kind of music program, but I want something more than just marching with a lot of people carrying tubas around. I want to get into people's emotions, make them feel, not just for those parents and judges. I want to reach to people, their souls, you know?" As she said those words, she started getting more excited, talking louder and faster.

And he knew exactly those passions that she had inside. He thought back to when he was younger, saw a band that seemed to be speaking just to him the entire night. Maybe there was a reason to believe that he could do the same after all. Not just a creator for himself, but actually make an impact with those words. "Maybe here you could do that? Find other people into music and make a band with them."

"You're right," Scarlet said. "And I already know of a good lead singer for it."

"Oh, that's great," Neal said, completely missing out on the implication that she was making with that. At least at first.

"Wait, you don't mean-" he said taking a few steps back at that and somehow tripping on a rock under his foot and ended up falling over, causing Scarlet to laugh before walking over to help him back to his feet."

"You don't think that's a good idea? You'd be perfect for it."

"I think perfect is far from my musical talents," he said, knocking the snow off of his shirt. "It's just a hobby, something I like doing on my own from time to time." He was trying to think of an excuse, that school was too busy, that his parents wouldn't allow it, but he really couldn't think of anything that would hold weight to it.

"Well, think about it at least," she said. "But they say that time moves fast, and it's easy to miss the opportunities in front of you." She seemed to know that these words were true with the gravity she said them with. "You never know what tomorrow could bring."

"Yeah, you're right." Neal shook his head a bit at that. A part of him wanted to just rush into this, to not face any regrets that would let him slow down. But there was still the doubt, the questions, the fear of whatever could go wrong. "It's just a bit overwhelming right now."

"You know what will be even more overwhelming though?" she asked and he really didn't think he wanted to know the answer to that question. "Singing in front of a few thousand people."

He felt lightheaded just thinking about it. But maybe this wasn't as crazy as he thought it was, maybe it was only half as crazy.

"Eventually though, I think we could do it."

Neal had to like her optimism. Sure, it might be something that would take a long time, but so were a lot of things that were worthwhile in the end. "Anyway, think about it, we can talk more later," she said, heading back to her house, but climbing the chain-link fence between the two houses instead of just going around. Well, if anything, Neal was a bit excited through all the hesitation he was feeling. He thought of how he was with Mao, pushing him with all the ideas that he had, but he didn't think it would be anything more than ideas he had for himself.

But feeling the tiredness start to take him, he ended up going back inside, still feeling lightheaded after talking to Scarlet. He went up the stairs to his room, and then started to feel dizzier, needing to grip the stair-rail to keep from falling over. "Maybe I shouldn't have spent so much time in the cold wearing just a t-shirt," he said to himself while he forced himself up to his room, taking some deep breaths. Maybe he was coming down with a cold, or some flu, or ate something bad. Still, he made it to his room, and decided he should go to his bed, but before he could make it, Neal collapsed, knocking the "Music Lives Here' plaque off his dresser as he did so. He tried to get back up, his arm hurting from hitting the dresser. But before he could get the strength to get up again, Neal passed out.

A/N: So my original plan was when I edited this story to get the story to come together better, but I honestly forgot so much of the detail that happened that I'm rediscovering it as I go. So hopefully things will mostly make sense. And since it's been so long I wanted to post a chapter for both "Before" and "After." Maybe I'll try posting a chapter a weekend. I think that would be fun. It has been cool thinking about the old stories I wrote and seeing that people are still reading them.