It had been a long time since I had stood here. A long time since I had stared into the void only for it to stare back, daring me to enter its domain. Its sharp teeth hidden behind a glass sliding door smile. But I was older now, stronger, wiser to its charms and glamours and I was only too aware of the consequences should I misstep. Fear was a friend, trepidation my companion, panic an ally. I knew what it would cost to…
"If you're gonna come in, come in."
I had been having a heroic internal monologue going and the illusion had been effectively shattered by guitar guy waving at me through the entrance of the music shop.
"I was going to, I was just…," I hurriedly glanced around for an excuse, "Reading this flyer you have taped up."
"The one for Zumba classes for pregnant moms?"
"…yes."
I wasn't about to explain to him how nervous I really was to be here. I hurried past the sign not daring to look him in the eyes and stepped into the store. The rows of CD's and stacks of vinyl records filled up most of the store just as they had before. If my eyes did not deceive me there were also a few new bins full of cassettes. What year was it?
"You're looking for Soul aren't ya?" Guitar guy asked settling himself back on his chair behind the register counter pulling his guitar into his lap grinning at me. "I knew you guys would hit it off together. All you needed was a little alone time."
I rolled my eyes. If he hadn't played matchmaker a lot of this summer could have been avoided. Instead I had a boy in my house almost every night who I had secretly kissed and yet couldn't tell anyone why if they asked. I wanted to run right back out the door, but I was also immensely curious and wanted to stay.
"Yes, I'm looking for him. I know he's in today. I just don't know when," I answered flicking through the rack of screaming music I had accidentally bought from last time.
After Soul had woken up from his late afternoon nap the other day he had mentioned something about needing to head to a library to print something. I had offered the computer in my dad's office instead.
"You sure he wouldn't mind?" Soul had asked stretching and rolling out of my bed.
"Oh I'm sure. I've used it before and besides he's passed out still and for whatever reason he's absolutely smitten by you so I highly doubt he'd care," I huffed.
I still didn't understand what black magic Soul managed to pull with my father since Soul could commit murder and my dad would probably allow him to hide under his own bed if he wanted.
"I mean I don't blame him. I tend to leave a trail of broken hearts wherever I go." He smirked at me and I looked away focusing my attention on shutting down my laptop.
There was no way he knew about anything I had done a few minutes ago and if I didn't give him any clues or hinted at anything I would never betray myself. I led him downstairs into my father's office. It seemed to be just as messy as it had always been and for a brief moment I was almost embarrassed for my father. Of course that disappeared as soon as I remembered Soul had been privy to many drunken and embarrassing episodes and I doubted a few stray pizza boxes and what seemed to be a pair of women's underwear sticking out of a desk drawer were really going to bother him. I booted up my dad's computer using the password he keeps taped to the bottom of his desk.
"You dare me to look through his history?" He asked grinning like the Cheshire cat.
"Are you kidding? Do you want to be permanently scarred for life?" I chuckled pulling up a chair.
He ignored me and opened the history anyway. I hastily covered my eyes.
"Soul!"
"Damn Maka, your dad is into some weird shit. I mean I know there's weirder out there but it's definitely not your average vanilla stuff," he laughed. "You wanna know the names of the sites?"
"No! Please! I'd like my mind to stay untainted thank you!" I begged.
I knew my dad had always been somewhat of a sleaze, it had been part of the reason my mom left him after all. But I didn't need anything cemented in my head to prove it. I heard him chuckle, type, then make a few clicks.
"Is it safe?" I asked peeking through a tiny gap in my fingers.
"Yeah yeah sunshine, it's safe. You're so sensitive," he said winking at me before smiling at the monitor.
"Forgive me for not wanting to have to bleach my eyes out later," I huffed in defiance crossing my arms.
On the screen was a template for music and Soul was busy filling out the staff placing notes in patterns across the page. He concentrated on the screen completely lost in his own world his eyebrows furrowed in thought. I had never seen him so serious and it was such an unexpected change that I couldn't help but stare at the appearing notes less and less choosing instead to watch his expression. The red in his eyes was a deep burnt ruby and they were intense and unwavering in their attention. His foot was tapping out a rhythm under the desk as he clicked on whole notes, 1/8th notes and rests until the whole page was full. He finished it off with a typed message at the end that read "rage smash".
"What's this for?" I asked.
He blinked at me as if he forgot I was there. "Oh, uhh, it's piano music. I need to bring it to work tomorrow." He clicked the printer icon and the machine beside us began to whir.
"What kind of work do you do where you need sheet music?" I asked as the paper gently whished out of the machine.
He looked over his work a final time before folding it up into a small square and tucking it into his pocket. He suddenly leaned towards me with an eyebrow raised and small smile playing at the corner of his lips. I recognized that look. He was about to ask me something stupid.
'Do you really want to know?' he had asked. Well I was here wasn't I? I guess that answered that question. Guitar guy strummed a few strings and when one sounded sour he twisted the knobs at the end.
"Yeah, he's in today, but he has a class for another half hour or so," he explained. "I can let him know you were here and you can come back later if you want."
"Oh really?"
Class? Maybe he was learning a trade or something and that was why he wouldn't be going to college. That could be why he was always tired. Maybe it was a heavy course. Perhaps I could even offer homework help; I've been told I made a great study partner.
"Yeah, or if you'd rather wait for him in the back where the parents usually are you can do that too. He should find you back there when he's done," he offered motioning to the doorway in the back of the room I hadn't noticed before.
"Ok, I think I'll just wait for him then," I decided.
I had no idea what parents would be doing in the back of this particular store but I didn't question it. As I turned to walk to the back I noticed in the corner of the room the piano I had first seen Soul playing all those weeks ago. I hadn't noticed before but on the lid covering the keys was a bright orange sticker boasting the sale price of $299.99. I had no idea if that actually was a good price or not for what seemed to be a basic piano. It didn't have all the majesty of the grand pianos that you saw musicians playing in opera houses. I gently ran my hand along its smooth cool side. When Soul had played it though, it had been just as beautiful.
I moved on through the aisles passing the shelves full of books on music theory and practice sheets for different skill levels. I wondered if that was something Soul had an interest in. Clearly he could play so it wasn't too far-fetched to believe he knew a good bit about music theory. Maybe that's why he enjoyed working here, with easy access to knowledge about something he was good at he could make the most of his time.
I looked around and noticed only two other patrons in the room both of whom were wearing cowboy hats and looking over a selection of what seemed to be instrumental strings. I had never had much talent for the arts but I could appreciate them as much as the next person. Maybe when Soul returned I could ask him about his music and how long he had been playing. The artsy type wasn't what people really called him back in school. It was always athletic, smart, mysterious and of course by most of the female populace, gorgeous. But I'd never heard 'musically talented' before and now I was the one who knew it. I felt an odd sense of pride even though there were likely several people we used to share hallways with that knew of his hidden talent.
Through the doorway was a hall with a few rooms encased in glass walls with black styrofoam along the insides. They were filled with microphone stands, speakers and the occasional instrument. A paper sign was taped to each door that read, "IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO RESERVE RECORDING ROOM TIME OR TEST OUT A PRODUCT PLEASE SEE AN ASSOCIATE." At the end of the hall was a door that had a plaque that read WAITING ROOM. I now understood what parents would be in here for. When your child's makeshift garage band wanted to feel legitimate this seemed to be the place to be.
I made my way down the hall only to stop at the last room in the back. In it was a piano slightly larger than the $300 one in the front of the store. And sitting behind it was Soul with what looked to be a middle school age boy who did not look happy in the slightest. I couldn't hear what he was telling Soul but after he stood up and shoved all the sheet music in front of him onto the floor I knew it couldn't be good.
I assumed Soul would be immensely annoyed but instead he seemed to be taking it all in stride as though he had expected this outcome as the kid stomped around the room. Soul then said something to the kid that made him stop in his tracks. Soul pulled out what looked like the folded paper he had printed yesterday and handed it to the kid who looked it over and soon had a slow smile crawling up his face. He looked to Soul again and Soul nodded. He quickly sat back down and decided where to place his hands above the keys. They both then began to play together.
Soul wasn't being taught in a class, he was the teacher, and by the look of joy on his student's face he was a good one. I couldn't help but smile along with them. I desperately wished I could hear what they were playing but also knew I shouldn't interrupt their session. Soul's fingers seemed to fly over the keys on his side of the piano as the boy's movements were much slower but more deliberate on his side. They both seemed so happy and I was almost jealous of what they were able to share. Suddenly they both slammed both of their hands down onto many of the keys as a grand finale and the boy started to laugh. Soul ruffled his student's hair and looked up making eye contact with me. I did a small wave while he gently smiled in return. It was an interesting kind of smile. One I hadn't seen before that radiated a kind of peace that didn't normally fall in his chaotic repertoire. I kind of liked it.
I heard stomping coming down the hall and saw a woman wearing dark blue leggings and gold hoop earrings holding both a large handbag and diaper bag in one hand and carrying a baby who was sucking on a few of his fingers in the other. A toddler was running ahead of her and slammed straight into the recording room door making Soul and his student inside jump. Soul hurriedly got up but instead of going to the door began picking up the sheet music off the floor.
"Well are you going to open the door for him or are you just going to stand there?" the woman called angrily at me.
"I'm sorry ma'am but there's someone…"
"Clearly he can't reach the knob and you're just going to stare at him looking fucking stupid and letting him struggle. Get out of my way!" she yelled as she shoved me aside bumping me with her bags. Her baby waved a slobbery hand at me over her shoulder as she threw the door open letting in her other child.
"It's time to go! Grab your stuff," she said loudly pointing to the kid's backpack along the wall.
"But mom I still have time left," the boy insisted.
"Mama! Lookit! I can do music too!" screamed the toddler who was now running in circles around the piano.
Soul packed together the sheets of music adding the folded sheet they had just played in the middle. His mouth was set in a hard line but he had taken to staring at everything with an air of indifference, however, that was betrayed by the slight tremble in his hands.
"Not today you don't. Maybe you do when your sitter is watching you but damn her for being off on vacation during the weekend, our busiest days," muttered the mom.
"It's her honeymoon mom," mumbled her son as he dejectedly got up from the piano bench to retrieve his backpack.
"And Taylor for the love of god stop running!" she screamed ignoring him just in time for the overactive child to trip over a cord and crash into the floor.
Taylor immediately began to wail which naturally triggered the baby in the woman's arms to burst into tears as well.
"Look at what you did!" she yelled poking a finger into Soul's chest. "This place is dangerous!"
Soul said nothing. Instead he made his way to his student and tucked the pile of papers into his backpack. That didn't stop her though.
"Are you even teaching him anything? What the hell do I pay you for if he's not getting any better?" she asked angrily and continued by turning to her son who was taking his backpack back from Soul and said, "Can you do anything? Anything at all!"
The boy looked to the floor dejected.
Soul's eyebrows furrowed just a little before he said, "He can and he does and he gets better every day," he zipped closed the backpack, "He's put a lot of hard work in and it's showing."
She seemed not to have heard him choosing instead to yank her crying child up off the floor by the arm and dragging him out the door yelling for her son to 'hurry the hell up and follow'; but seeing the grateful smile the boy gave Soul before he ran after his mother tells me the sentiments weren't for her ears anyway. I reached for the door to stop it from swinging closed as the cries of two children faded down the hallway and peeked my head inside. Soul had slid down to sit on the floor against the wall with his knees drawn up to support his arms. He was looking straight ahead at the opposite wall and breathing deeply.
"Umm, Soul?"
He took another long slow breath and in a sudden change of mood looked up at me and called cheerily, "Ahh yes, my next appointment. Come in Maka!"
I walked into the room and took a seat on the piano bench.
"So you're a piano teacher," I said with a hint of amusement.
"You say that like it's funny," he said tilting his head to match the tilt in his smirk.
"No, it's just…so unexpected from you is all."
"Well what did you expect?"
"I don't know," I said throwing my hands up, "maybe just stocking stuff in the back room."
He put a hand to his chest, "I'm offended that you think so little of my capabilities."
"You just don't seem like a people person. You've never seemed to be the social type."
"As if I would waste time doing boring shit like that."
"Whatever, it's a nice surprise anyway," I said running my hand along the ivory keys beside me. "So who was that?"
"An ultra bitch."
"I meant your student," I said side eyeing him.
"Oh, that was Alex. His mom is making him learn piano to 'bring some class back into this family'", he said making air quotes in the air, "Her rich ass husband just left her for this year's newest model so she's permanently in ultra bitch mode."
"Sad," I mused.
"That her kids are stuck with her? Yeah."
Soul looked towards the door his face twisting into a slight grimace. I could confidently assume I knew what was going through his mind. He got the same set to his jaw when my dad was home and drunk and not in his usual overly affectionate way. I wanted to get his mind off it.
"So he was who you made that music for?"
"Yeah," he said slowly looking back at me.
To my relief he was softening up again, which is another one of those things I never imagined saying about him. It felt almost like a privilege to know that Soul was capable of having such a side to him. I secretly enjoyed the idea of him only being this way in my presence.
"He's a good kid but he's been getting really frustrated with the classical music his mom is forcing him to learn. He's never going to get any better if he's not making progress with something he doesn't care about. So I made some new music for him."
"You just…made new music?" I asked.
"Well yeah, like it's hard?" he said getting up off the ground and leaning against the piano. "I know what kind of sounds he likes, the rhythm and tempo he prefers. Plus I ended it with just slamming on all the keys at once since that's just what he wants to do most of the time anyway," He leaned closer to me and whispered, "Plus I threw a few expletives in the title. You know, for flavor."
He could compose?
"You can compose?" I asked completely shocked. "Just make new music like nothing? I thought you had to be like a genius or something to do that?"
"Ouch."
"No, I mean. You just picked some things you knew your student liked and just whipped something together. That's so…cool!"
He looked slightly taken aback by my compliment but looked away smiling and said, "It's really nothing. It didn't even sound all that good."
"But I saw what he was like before and you made him so happy." I could tell I was gushing and while it was not at all my style he deserved a little praise. "You're such a good teacher."
I guess it wasn't his style either because he began to fidget and still wouldn't look at me.
"Thanks," he mumbled eyeing the floor.
Aaaand there it was. The familiar awkward silence. I stuck the entirety of my foot in my mouth and made something good into something weird. I knew coming here was a bad idea. I wanted to run out of the room and back to my car and drive home and hide under my blanket. I also very much wanted to stay.
"I could teach you too if you want," he offered suddenly looking up scaring me with his unexpected movement.
"What?"
"I promise my fee is affordable," he said wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I laughed. "No way. I wouldn't be good at this kind of stuff. I'll let you be the talented one between us."
"Oh come on," he huffed, "Scootch."
He pushed me gently aside to make room for himself on the bench. I was feeling the familiar fingers of panic threatening to curl around my throat. He was so close and I didn't know how I felt about it; I mean, I did, but I wasn't sure I should be. I was in another cliché scenario and it's supposed to be nice and maybe even romantic depending on the novel but I didn't think I could go through with it. I wanted to run but I wanted to stay.
"Ok, I'll have you do something easy. So easy that even you couldn't fuck it up ok?" Soul said grabbing my hand and guiding it to the keys.
My heart was pounding and his hand was warm and I couldn't tell if I was breathing.
"Just hit these two keys over and over again. I swear it's that easy. And then when I give you the signal you just move down three keys and it'll change the octave. You got all that?"
He wasn't letting go and he was looking at me so expectantly and I could do nothing but stare back and as my eyes drifted lower on his face he asked,
"Maka? You good?"
"YES! I'M GREAT!" I shouted unnecessarily loudly making him jump and remove his hand from mine.
Too strong? Maybe. But who cared? I had been on the verge of thinking stupid thoughts and I knew all too well what happened when I allowed myself the leisure of letting them carry me away.
"Oookaaay," he said turning back to the keys. "Then here we go. Start counting with me. You like numbers, I know you can at least count right?"
"Of course."
"Good, ready? One, two, three, go."
And while I steadily played my two keys one after the other while counting in my head Soul played much more and much quicker in the same way he had played with Alex. Because I only had my two notes to worry about I could spare a little attention to Soul's side of the piano. He was fluid and purposeful and there was not a single misstep to be had. The music was filling the room and for a brief second I forgot what I had been so worried about. The song was soft and happy; my two notes the skipping footsteps on a dirt road, Soul's hands the breeze blowing through the trees. I would probably never do this again but I understood now why someone would want to share this experience, why they would get yelled at by angry parents and put up with grumpy teenagers. If it meant reaching this conclusion it would be worth it.
"Ok next count switch," he said, "Two, three and go."
I moved down three keys and the song reached a new pitch. A climax was near.
"Ready to go faster?" he asked over the sound.
"Yeah," I responded.
We counted faster, my skipping became running; his breeze became a gusting wind. I couldn't tell the difference between my heartbeat and the tempo anymore. Finally all too soon he said,
"Last 2 counts."
I played my two keys with everything I had for the next few beats until it cultivated in a long final note.
"Look at you," he said crossing his arms and smiling proudly, "I think we've got another Beethoven in the making."
"Please," I said rolling my eyes. "I highly doubt I'll ever make it to that level."
"Who knows? You seemed to have fun." Soul closed the lid hiding away the keys. "You looked a little happy."
"I suppose I had an ok time," I conceded.
"Oh I'm sure it was just 'ok'," he laughed. "Well whatever, you're cuter when you have a little fun; god knows you don't have enough of it."
"Hey, I have plenty of fun," I said purposely ignoring his compliment; it most likely wasn't real anyway. "I'll just have my fun in non-music related ways, that's your lane."
"You just need a little practice," He scooted slightly closer and lowered his voice. "And I'm always down for a little extra credit."
Time to leave. Time to cut this little visit short. I know why he does this. I know it's a power trip and it's fun for him. I mean I had a good time when I tried it myself but I just couldn't seem to find the space in my head to think about anything besides the warmth of his body being so close; or was that just mine heating up? I thought I was used to this, I was sure I was, but I'm not. I turned to face him head on prepared to give him a piece of my mind.
"What's the matter, Maka?" he whispered.
His face was much closer to mine than it had been a second ago. Why did he have to have such intoxicating eyes? They were so incredibly hard to look away from, the scarlet pulling me in, inviting me to stay. The grin playing on his expression was widening exposing the sharpened ends of his teeth and if I wasn't careful those fangs would sink into my flesh again. The only way to end his game was to start my own.
"Nothing," I whispered back leaning towards him.
He lifted his eyebrow curiously but didn't move away. He would need more persuading. I was scared out of my mind but if I didn't do something drastic it would be another win in his book. As I lifted my hand I wondered, did I really have such pride? As I placed my hand on his thigh I had to ask myself if all I was really after was bragging rights. His smile faltered. Bingo.
"Is something the matter?" I purred.
The familiar feeling of power was back and my fear of not being able to take it while in his possession made it all the sweeter. But it was short lived. His hand began to snake up my arm starting at my fingers still on his leg, up past the shoulder and cupping my cheek leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. I had never wanted to die before but right now seemed like an opportune moment to kick the bucket. With his hand so close to my neck there was no way he couldn't feel my pulse kicking away at his fingertips but there was no way to stop it.
"Yeah," he whispered, "Why are you pretending so much?"
"I'm not," my voice was a croak and I wanted to punch myself for sounding so pitiful.
"Yes, you are," he said quietly while gently rubbing my cheek with his thumb. "Pretending like you're not dying to kiss me right now."
I glanced at his lips. It was a brief reaction, something I did without thinking, but he caught it anyway and with his smile resuming its haughty position I knew I was caught as well. I had exactly three seconds to say something, anything, to get him to loosen his hold.
"As if you don't want to kiss me too," I challenged.
He stiffened. That did it.
"Don't flatter yourself," he said. His smile was still intact but his eyes had lost some of their intensity, softening again.
"Says the guy who likes to play this game," I continued.
He swallowed.
"As I recall you seem to enjoy playing too," he commented pulling me slightly closer to drive his point.
"And you seem to enjoy being played," I said as I dragged my hand up from his thigh to his chest and pulling on his shirt.
We were now a breath away and my vision was getting blurry, my heart was hammering out an erratic rhythm in my throat and oddly enough I noticed that today he smelled slightly woodsy.
"You wouldn't do something so stupid," he decided his smile disappearing altogether.
"Don't be so sure," I said with confidence I didn't feel.
"I dare you."
"What?"
"You heard me."
How had we gotten to this point? Why were insistent on playing this game? Why was he doing this to me? And why, oh god why, was I considering it? We sat there in still silence with the weight of the situation pressing down, a heavy blanket mounting in pressure. That is, until I decided it was ok to want stupid things. It hadn't even taken that long to decide. I didn't know if I should blame the hormones or daddy issues but it didn't matter. My skin was screaming to be touched by him and the idea sent my internal temperature skyrocketing. I tilted my head fully prepared to close the distance between us. I would have if he hadn't slid his thumb between our lips stopping me.
"Don't be stupid, Maka," he sighed, "I don't deserve that."
"What?" I pulled back slightly. "You're…."
The door to the recording room slammed open making us jump apart.
"Soul, I'm sorry but she's back and says you owe her some of her fee back since she took Alex out early," guitar guy said, "I told her that's not how things work but she's not making things easy." He was breathing heavily and it seemed whatever the woman had been doing to him was taking its toll.
Soul sighed heavily and said, "Yeah, I'll be there in a second I…."
"No, you go ahead and go," I interjected. I hurriedly slid off the bench and made my way to the door. "I'm leaving."
I was so stupid.
I pushed past his coworker ignoring Soul's faint 'wait'. I rushed down the hall, past all the books, and out the front door. It was raining. Of course it would be; the symbolism of it all is almost laughable if it didn't suck so much. I walked through the downpour to my car, the droplets forming trails from my scalp to my chin. I got in the car, began to drive and couldn't remember the journey home.
I was so stupid.
I practically sprinted from the car to my front door, throwing it open not caring that I scared my father who was sitting on the couch with soccer mom. They had been cuddled together with some weird soap opera playing on T.V. It was such a cozy scene that I had destroyed with my presence. A scene straight out of a novel and I had had quite enough of those. The real world was much more complicated and when something wanted to hurt you, it would.
I was so stupid.
I ignored whatever it was my dad had been trying to say, or had it come from his date? I didn't care. All I wanted was for my bedroom lock to work and I was extremely grateful that as soon as I slammed my door closed, it did. I slid to the floor burying my face in my hands as though I could physically keep myself from falling apart. My pulse was thundering in my ears.
I was so stupid.
What had I expected? What had I wanted to happen? Dumb question. I knew what I wanted, pretending I didn't was pointless. He was right, I pretended a lot. I wasn't very real, instead I chose to make believe. I hated it. Hated how I felt then, how I felt now. All I had done was try to walk through a door he had opened. Shouldn't that mean that he was inviting me in? No, I should have known. He wanted a game. And I as a pawn had willingly played my part. I had shown him every card in my hand hoping he would have the same. Instead he had better. I had lost. But…it wasn't a game for me anymore.
It was completely my own fault for trying to make something real out of nothing. I should have left it alone and just played the game as it was meant to be played. Flirting with the line we had drawn between us that always seemed to get thinner every round. Dancing around the idea of what it meant when we shortened the distance between us. Testing just how far we were willing to go, what we were willing to give. What was it he had said, about what he deserved? Yes, he deserved better than me, yet he had stayed with me and I had thought that maybe that meant…? Tears followed familiar paths down my cheeks.
I was so so so stupid.