Chapter 7
Days later, I was fitting in with the Bohemians and enjoying their company, even when my brother's girlfriend was nearly frustrated by my presence. I had been helping Bob with the repairs almost the entire time and studying some of the texts on my own and with Meat. I had mentioned to her the piece of paper that I had found near something called a "piano", which had all the symbols on a bunch of lines.
"It's called 'sheet music', I think," Meat replied, "My boyfriend, god rest him, knew a lot about them, and I'm sure your brother might know about these texts as well."
I leafed through a beginners guide to sheet music and learned that it was what the legends from long ago studied for future performances along with their so-called "band-members" in order to keep things in shape. The musicians would also jot down "notes" if they had an ongoing beat floating in their mind, and would form "lyrics" to the songs, play on their instruments, and so on. The beat thing sort of interested me a bit considering that Gordon...um, Galileo actually would always spout out these words that made no sense to any of us. But now I knew that some of the songs on the sheet music could have been the same songs my brother used to say all the time.
"There's a bunch of other history 'bout some sort of scale where it matches the way you play the instruments, but I haven't seen one yet," Meat said as I continued to look over a piece of music at the piano and tinker around with the keys. I was about to say something when I heard two people yelling from around the corner.
"Oh, bugger. Not those two again."
When I heard her mention "those two", it had to have been my brother and Scaramouche with another round of arguments.
I poked my head out, and saw Scaramouche say something angrily to my brother while he slightly lowered his head and tried to calmly solve the situation.
"What's going on?" I asked.
The two of them stopped and stared at me.
"Piss off, you. It's between me an' him," Scaramouche replied nastily.
"Hey. Don't tell her to piss off," my brother said.
"Well, she should at least stay the hell outta what we're tryin' to figure out here! Ever since she arrived, she's been nothin' but trouble!"
I stared at her in shock.
"All I've been doing was help out with the repairs and studying the texts..." I replied slowly.
"And you've been hangin' 'round him like a leech."
"He's my brother! What else am I supposed to do? Just leave him alone with someone who still has something stuck up her ass just because she doesn't have any relatives who even care!"
I suddenly found myself on the floor again with a part of my face in pain from her punch. She wanted to lurch forward and continue, but my brother had restrained her in case she was really about to lose it.
"Just get outta my face! You don't know me, you little stupid cunt!" Scaramouche yelled while she struggled to get loose.
I slowly got up, stumbled down the hall and headed into my room, where I automatically felt hated again.
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Hours later, I glanced in the mirror and noticed a huge bruise on my cheek from where I was punched and winced at the throbbing pain. Her comments were still echoing in my mind. And she called me a "cunt". Even when I didn't know what it meant, the labeled phrase still hurt and it was worse than being called a "lesbian" even when I wasn't. I didn't know whether to cry or head back out to find her and punch Scaramouche back, but I just sat still in my room for a long few minutes with my eyes closed until I headed out to where the "piano" stood. I sat down in front of the keys, glanced at the "music notes" and words and quietly sung a few phrases to myself while I tinkered with the keys:
"I'm surrounded by liars/ everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by imposters/ everywhere I turn
I'm surrounded by identity crisis/ everywhere I turn
Am I the only one who noticed?
I can't be the only one who's learned...
I don't want to be
Anything other than what I've been trying to be lately
All I have to do
Is think of me and I have peace of mind
I'm tired of looking 'round rooms
Wondering what I've got to do
Or who I'm supposed to be
I don't want to be anything other than me..."
I suddenly stopped and stared at the keys with numbness. I didn't know at that point whether to feel accomplished or just plain stupid, but I instantly had a sick feeling and passed out in someone's arms and closed my eyes again.
(To be continued...)
