Authors note: the last chapter guys! This is it^^ I hope you've enjoyed this little story- hopefully it's got me back in the mood for writing and it won't be too long before the next one- ooh speaking of which- can I ask a quick favour?
after this chapter I'm gonna post a bunch of story descriptions. Can I just have your ideas of what you think of each to help me choose which to do next? Thank you so much^^
and also massive massive thank you to everyone who's reviewed (shoutout to elizaravenfeather for such amazing and long reviews^^) again for the last time, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the ending^^ that's it though! See you with the next story whichever you choose it to be- BYEEEEEE!^^
Wow- this place was massive! Even just the corridors were five times bigger than the ones he was used to. He couldn't help but love this place, though- it was like walking through a live orchestra. He'd even randomly walked down the main corridor during lesson times- and heard at least thirty different instruments playing: viola, trumpet, French horn, a set of drums, various guitars, flute, bassoon (he even swore I heard a harp at some point). It was like roaming a zoo filled with musical instruments, he thought.
He smirked at the analogy, and swung his violin burdened arm over his shoulder. It felt weird holding it in the wrong hand than he was used to, but his stronger arm was too tired. They really didn't take things easy here, did they? He wouldn't be surprised if his arm got cramped by the end of the day. Now where was the nearest place for lunch? He was probably on the entirely wrong side of the school, knowing him.
This place was a maze he had yet to memorise at the moment- and, yep. He was hopelessly lost. But, that was fine. He decided to have a little fun, and turn it into a little game.
How to find out where the food was? He thought. Easy.
He listened, as he wandered the maze of corridors, trying to identify each instrument as he passed. If he remembered right, percussion was next to one of the on campus cafe/restaurant places. Lucky percussionists, he thought.
It was relatively quiet now- most people had left for lunch- but with a school this prestigious, you could bet there were always a few, dutiful students staying behind to work over lunch.
Saxophone...
Horn...
Trumpet...
Trombone...
Clarinet...
Flute...
Oboe...
Harp...
Viola... Hey, he was headed into his home turf, he realised. He thought he recognised that sleek, white with brown decor.
Yeah... Over there was one of the rooms he might end up having lessons in, he remembered this. He was pretty sure strings were on the exact opposite side of the building to percussion. Great. Well, time to keep movi-hold on a minute... He slowed down to a stop, as a different instrument started to reach his ears.
He was so busy paying attention to the violin rooms, he'd completed forgotten about the rooms on the opposite side of the corridor. He didn't even know what they were for (he hadn't been paying full attention on the tour)... but he got the impression... it was piano- if the enchanting melody he was listening to right now was anything to go by.
It was so hauntingly familiar... Teasing at the edge of his memory like mental itch. It was the exact opposite to the sensation he was used to- and yet, exactly the same. He spent a lot of his time searching for a song he almost knew, but now... He was being presented with a song- but it somehow still teased at the edge of his memory, in the same way his 'Forgotten Half' did.
He found himself moving towards the closed door, like a siren was on the other side- luring him in... That song... He almost felt like he knew it but...
It was on the other side of this door. He could hear it. He strained his ears to listen...
The way it was played... That style... He knew this kind of music. Hiccup? He thought. It sounded just like his neighbour's music. He could practically hear the twenty-ish year old in the song, but wait... How did he know what Hiccup's music was like?
How could he recognise his style? He hadn't heard him play before... Had he? He struggled to remember... He felt certain he had heard it before, and yet... he couldn't remember a time when he could've heard it.
He couldn't stand it anymore- that endless nagging just kept tugging at his curiosity, urging him to push forwards the door and enter the room. He gave in to its wishes. He stepped inside... quietly, and wordlessly...
Hiccup was there- sat playing the piano, exactly as he'd predicted it. How? How had he known it was him? This was the first time he'd heard him play... Even as he said it, he didn't believe. He'd heard Hiccup play before... He just didn't know when... He was really good... Incredible even...
He started to loose himself in pianist's song. His fingers working a unique kind of magic across the keys. How he remembered them all he didn't know- how could he even choose what to press? There were like a hundred keys in front of him, but each one found its place in the song perfectly. He always thought it was incredible how pianist's played- each hand seemed to move with a mind of its own, playing two seperate songs at once, and yet somehow blended them into one.
His brown eyes followed his nimble fingers, as they dancing up and down the keys. Black and white; and black and white; and black and white. Why couldn't there be more colour on them? He always wondered. Why must the keys be so dull? Why couldn't they be gold, or blue?
Hiccup's head was bowed, slightly- moving in time with the music, as it flowed up and down like a rolling sea. But, wait, was he...? Were his eyes closed? That was exactly how he played! It freaked out anyone who watched him (and even moreso anyone who tried to copy), but, for him, it was the only way to play. He thought he was the only one who did that. Apparently not. It seemed Hiccup also shared that particular, little playing quirk. But, he almost didn't care about what he was seeing- because the music... It was the most magical feeling.
It wasn't like he was hearing it at all- it was like he was feeling it. He could feel everything Hiccup was feeling, as though he was the one playing it. He was feeling... Happy. The kind of happy that came after a settling of something from a long time ago...It almost felt like he was... talking to someone. Someone he'd known a long time ago... Who? He wondered...
And then the most impossible thing happened.
He heard words within the music.
There was no vocals in the song- and Hiccup wasn't saying a thing- and yet, somehow... words reached him like they'd been spoken to him... No it wasn't like that... It was like he could hear the raw essence of each word, resonating with him... He tried to fine tune the feeling... It was Hiccup- no doubt about it.
'It's been a long time.' He was saying, through the music. '...I feel like I'm finally starting to remember this... I thought I'd never be able to recreate the feeling.'
This was surreal, Jack almost thought, and yet... It almost like it was supposed to be. This was music as it was meant to be heard. What he always aspired to in his music... What he felt like he'd found and lost, somehow... A long time ago... About four years...
'Who are you playing for?'
He froze.
Those weren't words that were being played right now. They were something from a long time ago... Words that seemed to have been locked in some distant memory... Something Hiccup had told him, through music, when the two of them were playing together... From when they played together? Wait, he'd he'd met Hiccup before?
Then he remembered.
He remembered dancing on a lake. Noticing a young boy staring, wide eyed with wonder at him- who'd hurriedly looked away the second their eyes met.
He remembered being so intrigued those eyes... They so young and yet so old at the same time. They were such sad eyes.
He remembered hating how foreign a smile seemed on his face, like he didn't do it often, but loving the joy he'd felt upon seeing it.
He remembered his concern as sank to the ground- the boy terrified of the upcoming concert, and yet stubbornly refusing to cry. He remembered playing a song to try and cheer him up. The boy giving him inspiration like nothing he'd ever felt before... And remembered his astonishment, as he met his eyes afterwards, and realised... he'd done so much more than just hear the music- he'd truly felt it, in a way he'd always dreamed people would.
He remembered the feeling as though those forest green eyes were looking straight at him. In a lifetime of being invisible- known only as 'that guy who played violin like a girl'- it meant an awful lot.
For so long his little sister had been the only one he actually felt cared about him (his mother did her best- but as a single mother of two, there was only so much time she could spend with them). All he'd wanted was someone who didn't see straight through him... and then that freckle dotted boy had done it. In those few seconds, it felt like that boy has seen him more clearly than almost anyone else in his whole life.
He remembered talking to him on the train. Being astonished by the boys sheer faith in him- like he truly believed he could play anything absolutely anything and create a masterpiece from it- and sharing some faith of his own; doing whatever he could to stop the boy's self doubt defeating him. He'd just somehow known that, deep down, he was amazing musician, and he just had to believe in himself a little more.
He remembered before they were called onstage- having to hug and reassure the boy as he suffered from his horrendous stage fright; wondering, how anyone could've let it get so bad... and how long he'd been bottling it up.
He remembered walking him up onto the stage with him, side by side... The sheer belief pouring from his eyes, as he looked at him for help. Staring straight at him, in a way that stunned him so thoroughly, he'd almost not known how to respond.
He remembered telling him to close his eyes, and the instant he said it, he did it.
He remembered watching him play the first few minutes of that song... the tears that had pricked in his eyes, as he got a mere glimpse of the all consuming grief plaguing the teen- a lament that could only be caused by a lost parent... His mother, he'd somehow known... He'd felt a deep twinge in his heart, as he saw a tear slip onto the boy's freckled cheeks...
And he remembered closing his own eyes, desperately- doing whatever he could to try and ease the boy's sorrow... and following on his incredible journey, as he learned to accept and climb over that impossibly tall barrier that was his grief. Then, his incredible joy and relief, as he started up a new melody. One of beauty, and life, and joy, as he flourished- right before his eyes- into the incredible person he knew he'd been from the very beginning.
He remembered watching, proudly, as Hiccup took the theatre's applause, that he more than definitely deserving of.
Then, he remembered trying to hold on, desperately, as he felt himself getting pulled away. Knowing there was nothing he could do, and doing everything he could to try and soften the blow of his leaving. Telling him to close his eyes, and watching his confused, worried face as he whispered his plea to remember him- taking it his face as though for the very last time. A single tear slipping from his eye, as that that face slowly slipped away.
But, most of all, he remembered that one magical moment...
A new world had been born... and it was theirs. Just the two of them... staring breathless at each other. That crazy, indefinable feeling burning within them- connecting them... as the last remnants of their duet faded into a beautiful silence. A thousand words passing through their eyes, and not a single one of them mattering. All that mattered was that single rhythm that seemed to resonate across the space between them. Their two hearts, beating together as one.
Slowly the past faded away, and he came back to the present- to the sound of that life changing melody being revived once more.
... He blinked, as he realised that was the same pianist sat before him now. Hiccup?.. Was this really the same person? He'd seemed so grown up... And so confident now- so settled in himself- and, well... handsome... What had happened? Where had the time gone?
And then it hit him. Four years had passed since that day... Four, long, sets of three hundred and sixty five days.
Had he been trying to remember that song the whole time? Attempting to recall the scraps of his half of the duet that he could create, with the gaping hole that had been left by his absence... He'd been holding on... This whole time.
...He really hadn't forgotten him, had he...
... Four years...
He let the music drift on, slowly drawing towards its close... All this time... He'd been waiting for him...
He felt a damp shine start to appear in his eyes... He remembered his mother said once, a long time ago, that tears came from a melting heart... And his was well and truly swimming.
He wasn't going to keep him waiting any longer.
He quietly set the sleek black case he carried onto a nearby table. Carefully undoing the clasps... and pulling out the smooth, oiled instrument.
It belonged in this duet- and he couldn't wait any longer for it to join its rightful place in the melody.
He raised the lightweight bow to rest delicately on the taunt row of strings... Hiccup'd had been waiting far too long to hear this... but he was here now... And he remembered.
He closed his eyes, opening his heart to the words Hiccup played, right as the song reached its end.
'I did like you promised... I never forgot you.' A silver tear threatened to fall as he heard those words resonate with his being. I know you didn't, he thought, trying hard to keep his emotions under control. They were tearing him apart- drowning him like a great ocean, but still he held them back; waiting to channel them into his music. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you... but I'm back now... I remember! I remember us- I remember that night...
And I remember-
'And I never forgot-'
The bow slid smoothly over the delicate stings, in a flawless sequence of heartfelt notes... as the piano finished, with a quiet flourish of its ivory keys.
A simple message sent through through the words. Simple: but powerful.
"Our symphony."