Authors note: panic chapter! With a bit of hope at the end^^ always fun to write simple antics such as flying over furniture XD it's a bit longer this time so I hope you enjoy it! ^^ please let me know what you think, it really does mean an awful lot to me- but without further ado I'll leave you with the chapter- see you tommorow!
He turned and ran out of the park- legging it, full pelt, back towards the house. He tripped over his own feet at least five times on the way, and he was panting like he'd run a marathon, but he finally made it to his front door.
Eventually fumbling the stupidly uncooperative key into the lock, he slammed the door shut behind him, and leant against it as he frantically tried to catch his breath and read the nearest clock.
8:18.
The concert started at nine- and he had to get the 8:25 train to get there on time. This was really not good. Schiiist! He thought as turned round, hopping about as he threw his coat onto the floor and struggled to yank his shoes off.
He was still hopping about on one foot, when a glowing, white head shot through the door in front of him. He screamed, in the worst, girly way possible as he jumped halfway across the hall, fearful for his life. Eventually ending up in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs. Stupid ghost! He scared the life out of him! Then he turned bright red as he realised he'd just squealed like a six year old girl and fallen flat on his butt because of a stupid jumpscare. The spirit's very, very, loud laughter did absolutely nothing to improve his mood. Hiccup threw a shoe at him, and glared up at the trickster, furiously. He was not playing these games! The shoe just went straight through the ghost's face and hit the door, but it felt incredibly good to have the satisfaction of flinging something literally into his smug, laughing face.
"I am not in the mood right now!" He warned, panic rushing his feet up the stairs faster than they could cooperate. As he stumbled his way up, he yelled back down. "I'm gonna be late!" He panicked, sitting on his bed to pull off his second shoe- this one also taking a short flight across the room he'd tugged it so fast. He shook his jacket off one armand pinged off his old socks ready for newer, fresher ones. It was around about this time, he realised he had an audience.
"Get out! I'm getting changed!" He shouted- his face going from peach to tomato in the space of that one sentence. The ghost either blanched or blushed- he had no idea which- as it finally sank in through its silver hand what was going on. He turned tail and dashed away from the door long before Hiccup reached it and slammed it shut- locking it for good measure (although it would be literally no help in keeping the ghost out). Then, he finally turned his attention to the trim, black suit laid out on on his bed.
A few minutes of flailing about, losing a fight with unyielding clothing, later, he burst from his bedroom- black, formal jacket hanging off one arm; a long, misshapen strip flying like a loose banner round his neck; and his shirt flapping over the top of his trousers, one end of which was still trapped under his heel as he fought to haul them up.
He ignored the snickering spirit in the living room as he dashed around wildly- ransacking the house to find the front door keys, only to remember he'd left them in his coat pocket.
"Bringing back the bow tie, I see?" The voice from the corner smirked. He glanced down at the oddly shaped strip barely hanging onto his neck. Darn it- he was right! It looked stupid- what was he thinking?! He rushed back up into the bedroom, going on a compete rampage as he pulled apart his various dresser draws in search of a normal tie. He found one. Yes! He thought, victoriously, throwing it round his neck like a scarf. He could tie it on the train, he didn't have the time-.
"You know, the bow tie was fine." His personal poltergeist pointed out. WHAT?! He thought, tackling the armchair and going flying into the sofa... Ow. Just forget it- forget it! Hurry up- you're gonna be late! You're gonna be late! He repeated over and over in a frenzy, finally shrugging his jacket over his other shoulder as he simultaneously reached for his shoes.
"Don't you need anything?" The voice wondered behind him. He shoved his foot into one of the fancy, freshly polished shoes and fiddling about with the laces as he cursed whoever invented them into a fiery pit of worms.
"I told you- I couldn't think of any music- so I'll just have to-!"
"Train fare? Bus fare?" The voice suggested. Hiccup slapped himself, mentally. Of course! Idiot! He hopped back into the living room- laces trailing from his one, shoed foot. Snatching the black, leather pouch from the coffee table, he pocketed it before hurrying back to his other shoe. After a few seconds warring against the laces, and tangling his fingers in a knotty, black spiderweb, gave up and shoved the useless strings down the sides of his shoes. He leapt out of his house, only stopping to lock the door (which suddenly proved frustratingly difficult when he wanted it be done quickly), then took off down the street.
By the time he reached the station, his train was already there. But he'd made it to the platform on time. Thank the gods! He thought, before instantly cursing them a thousand times over as his now free laces finally tripped him up, and sent one of his shoes flying across the platform- almost onto the train track. He hurriedly hopped over to it-fearful that the train would start any second-... and stumbled, at long last, onto the train.
He had more than a few people giving him some funny looks as he struggled to catch his breath. It took him a moment to realise why they were staring. His shirt was untucked, his tie was strung round his neck like a noose, his hair was probably a mess and he was holding his right shoe in his left hand... Oh great. He looked like a mess, didn't he. He self consciously patted down his hair in a useless attempt to tame it, as his ducked his head down- hiding from their scathing gazes as he searched for a seat. He managed to find a relatively quiet carriage- and sat himself down in an empty seat. Thankfully, no one was sat next to, or opposite, him.
He breathed out a sigh of relief and sagged heavily into his seat. Thank goodness he was finally here.
"Hey, you made it!"
WHAT THE HOLY-?!
He flipped out as a silvery white head materialised through the wall next to him- earning him the attraction of some more odd stares from the other people in the carriage. He turned bright red, as his pet ghost proceeded to laugh his head off beside him- Hiccup unable to anything more than glare, without looking even more insane.
He busied himself with making himself look more presentable- starting with his shoes to give him an excuse to hide his head. Now he had a half an hour journey to wait, he actually managed to work his fingers through the motions of tying the bows. Finally feeling brave enough to show his face again- he moved on to tying his tie. A real one- not one of those clip ons that were so much easier, but his dad wouldn't let him get. It took him five tries to get it right- and even then it still looked a little squiffy to his eyes. He pulled down the collar he didn't even realise had been sticking up the whole time, and started trying to managed to sort his hair as best he could.
He managed to sort it into a slightly less windblown mess, but it was still scruffy. There was only so much he could do with his hair though- this was as good as he was going to get it. He sighed, resigning himself to the fact that this was going to be how he showed up, as settled down for the rest of the journey... Until the spirit pointed out his shirt was still untucked.
Then, he was all set. Nothing left to do, but to sit and dread his upcoming doom.
There was no point trying to write anything now- and, even if there was, he wouldn't be able to write anything with the constant rattling of the train anyway. He was just going to have to do this on the spot. Improvise. Literally pull something out of thin air at the last moment... and quite honestly... It petrified him. It made him want to get off at the next station, and take the fastest train home. He wasn't just nervous- he was absolutely terrified.
He looked at the spirit taking the seat opposite him. He was enjoying watching the world outside roll by, like he was already thinking of a way to turn it into another effortless masterpiece, just like he'd done back at the lake. He couldn't do that. He wasn't an improviser. Sure, he could come up with something relatively quickly, if the will was with him, but in the last few seconds?! And something that was meant to be of a national competition winning standard? It was impossible. He just couldn't do it. He wasn't like that ridiculously amazing ghost. He didn't know how he did it! How could he just make something so incredible with no practice?! He hadn't even created a decent piece of music in years! He hadn't even played all that well for years! Oh gods... What was he going to do?... He was doomed.
The spirit must've noticed his hands shaking.
"You alright?" He queried, concern touching his voice. Hiccup didn't trust himself to speak. He felt a little queasy. Every time he thought about the performance... Just the thought that he had to do the entire thing on the spot, with no preparation!.. It was too much. He couldn't do it. He was better off heading home. But he couldn't just give up on everything now.
He didn't really feel anything, but he watched as a silvery white hand lay on top of his own... and strangely, he didn't flinch away from the contact. A suprisingly gentle voice grabbed his attention, as he reluctantly met the spirit's eyes.
"Hey." He heard him mutter. "You're gonna be great." He smiled, reassuringly- not a trace of doubt in his words.
"That's easy for you to say." He muttered- quietly, so the other passengers couldn't hear. "You're amazing- you can make the most incredible music from thin air. You don't even have to try." He murmured. The ghost blinked in surprise, and stared at him, astonished. "But, I'm not like that." He continued. "I'm not like you. I can't miraculously pull a masterpiece out of nowhere. I need time. I need practise. I need-."
"No, you don't."
He froze, astonished, as she moon white spirit broke in. What? How did he know? He'd never even seen him play before! He searched his translucent face for the reason. How he could be so confident about that? What did he see in a loser like him?
"I saw you when you were listening to my music. You heard it like a song, and you read it like a book- but, not only that, you felt it! Anyone who sees that much in a simple song can more than create something like that themselves. They just need to be a half decent musician- and you've made it to the finals of a national competition! That's incredible, Hiccup. I don't know why you don't believe in yourself more." He told him, unwavering confidence and belief radiating from him steady gaze. Hiccup was stunned. He really thought he was worth that much? He really... believed in him? He found himself beginning to wonder if... maybe he was putting himself down. Was he really better than he told himself he was? But, what did he do about the performance?
Forget self belief, there were hundreds of people turning up tonight, expecting him to play a masterpiece, and he had nothing! What should he do? He was lost. He just didn't know how to do this.
"But what do I do?" He muttered, helplessly- desperately seeking the spirit's guidance, as buried his head. He was he improv master here! How did he do it?! He just couldn't-... He wasn't good enough.
"You don't need to know what notes you're gonna play." The spirit's voice told him, calmly. "You don't even need to know what kind of music you're going to play. You just need to find a reason to play... Something, or someone, worth playing for." The ghost muttered, gazing down as he himself in his thoughts for a moment. "Once you find that, just let your heart lead. The rest of you will know what to do."
Hiccup let his words sink in... He chewed on his lip as he mulled over what he'd just said. It was a more than little bit cryptic- and, yes, kinda poetic- but music, especially the kind they were talking about, was a very difficult thing to describe. It was different for every person who played it. Not one musician ever played the exact same way- and your own unique style was something you had to discover for yourself- but Hiccup had already near enough found that. His problem was his muse- or his lack of one.
A reason to play...
The pianist thought as he looked inside himself again. What was his reason for playing?... 'Someone or something' he'd said... Who, or what, inspired him?... He considered it, but an answer came surprisingly quick.
His mother, he thought.
She always the first person who came into mind whenever he sat at the piano's ebony/ivory keys. She always seem to be near him whenever he was sat at that stool; and he definitely wanted to make her proud, it shouldn't be hard for him to play for her. A lament? He thought, ideas for the piece starting to slowly turn over in his head. Perhaps a memory of the old times... or a bittersweet commemoration of her. His mind set with determination. He might not know exactly what he was going to play- he wouldn't know that until his fingers touched the keys, but now he had a starting point. He had a place to begin. He'd found his reason to play. He had the centre of his piece. There was a chance- however small- that he might just be able to pull this off.
He looked up and met the glowing, silvery eyes of the white ghost in front of him.
"Thank you." He told him, sincerely- and he really meant it. He didn't often feel very strongly about many things, but he was truly was grateful to the spirit. The ghost accepted his thanks with a simple nod of his head- but the gentle glow in his eyes, and the soft spread of the starlight smile that graced his lips, told him something else: you always could've done it, Hiccup. I just helped you realise it.
The pianist smiled softly to himself at the silent message. The spirit's belief felt like it was starting to rub off on him, and he began to hope that maybe- just maybe... He might be able to do this.