Pizza n' Tea: A Weird Combination

8. Composition

Fin: June 7, 2021 12:32 PM

I'm laying on my bed in my borrowed room, eyes closed and listening to Shaun strumming his acoustic down the hall.

The music stops abruptly so I get haul myself up and pop my head into his room. His door is wide open and he's leaning over his desk at his swivel chair, one hand holding his guitar and the other writing something down on his tablet.

"Yo."

"I see we're on 'yo-ing' terms now. What's up?" He's scribbling away.

"What are we doing with the four Brutes we filled with snow? It's just water now."

Shaun shrugs. "Leave 'em there until the snow clears I guess. We can't put it anywhere, it's too heavy."

I shrug back. "Alright. You're the boss."

Shaun put his tablet pen down and turned his head around to wink me. "That I am." He turns back and picks up his pen again, putting down his guitar and propping his head up with his other arm.

I stand at the door with my head cocked and my arms crossed, watching him swing his pen back and forth between his fingers for the next two minutes. I start to step away but debate returning to that borrowed blue room with the still air and its items all placed in immaculate order untouched by the warmth of human presence.

I stop.

"Can I watch you play?" I finally ask. His pen stops mid-swing as he jolts up in his chair.

He nods once, slowly. "Uh, sure." He goes to pick up his guitar, but I stop him.

"Wait, I mean, are you composing something? Could I watch? I've always been curious about the process," I fiddle with my fingers, "I mean, I don't want to be bothering you or anything," I add.

He cracks a smile. "You're not a bother."

The corners of my lips rise on their own. I walk into his room feeling much lighter than I had seconds ago. I look around but there isn't another chair so I plop myself down on his bed and lay down on my stomach with my chin in my hands to face Shaun.

"So, you compose music?" I ask.

"Yeah, I started doing it about two years ago. The feeling of creating something is indescribable, y'know? It's painful with the amount of time and dedication it takes, but at the same time, it's liberating and powerful," he's turned towards me but he's not seeing me anymore. His eyes reach further, past me, and there's a soft smile on his face.

"You can make anything you want as long as you put in the energy to do it. It's...freedom when reality refuses to give you any. An escape, really," his eyes drift back down, meeting mine, "It's beautiful."

I freeze, entranced by his gaze, his words echoing in my ear. His eyes weren't dark brown as I had first assumed, but was more of a hazel color, and his long lashes brushed across his cheeks as he blinked.

I suck in a breath and look away, blinking furiously. "That-that must be an amazing feeling." I sneak a glance back at him. He's still staring at me. I turn around on my back, suddenly aware that I'm laying on a stranger's bed.

He hums in agreement, "It is."

I hear the squeak of his chair as he swivels back around and picks up his guitar. He begins strumming again, so I turn back around on my stomach.

I start to drift off as I watch Shaun stop every five minutes to pick up his pen and scribble on his tablet. His music grows slow and creeps through every inch and crevice within this room, twisting its tendrils around me in a blanket of warmth and security.

Outside his window, the white of the snow lays still, unbroken, and untrodden upon. I don't remember the last time I truly stopped to listen to the music and appreciate the scenery before me.

The musical silence is broken by the whisper of Shaun's voice, bringing me back from the thralls of sleep.

"Bailey, I think I'm finished with this piece. Would you like to be the first person to ever listen to it?"

My vocal cords rusty with unuse, I am unwilling to break my tranquil, and so I simply hum my agreement.

I close my eyes and rest the back of my head on my hands. Listening to Shaun compose each measure every few minutes did not prepare me for the full-length piece.

The piece begins with four simple chords and eventually crescendos into the melody.

My mother's face flashes before my eyes as I remember the love of her embrace. It was the last time she held me, right before we left the house on the day this nightmare began two years ago. A single tear rolls down my cheek.

This song would've been something she'd choose to listen to as she swayed in the dark with my father when they thought no one was watching.

I feel a stabbing sensation in my heart, knowing that for as long as I lived, I would never forget this melody.

The music stops and we are plunged into silence. I am unable to speak, my vocal cords held captive by some unseen force.

Shaun clears his throat, "Uh, yeah. So I know it's not the best and it's far from complete, I still need to write lyrics, but...yeah." I can hear him scratch his head.

I open my eyes and sit up to look at him, wiping away the tear. "Thank you for letting me be the first person to listen. It was beautiful. I loved it."

Shaun searches my face, trying to determine whether I was lying to him.

I wasn't.

"Are-are you crying? What happened? Was it that bad?"

"No, the opposite actually. It-Your music reminded me of my mother," I look down.

Shaun gets up and walks over to me. I can feel his hand hovering over my shoulder, but he never puts it down. His hand returns to his side. "Would you-would you like to help me write the lyrics?"

I smile at him. "Really?"

He smiles back and nods. 

A/N: Will try not to edit this as I write, because if I do, I'll find a million mistakes that I will no doubt spend hours attempting to fix. As a result, there may be some plot holes, as this is the first time I'm writing a story as long as this.