The Art Of Us

11 • Everything Is Changing

FP hadn't closed an eye while staying over at Fred's. He was taking good care of him, but it couldn't stop the storm in his mind. He was mad, confused, disappointed but surprisingly most of all forgiving.

They may have spend sixteen years apart, but he still liked to believe that he still knew who Alice was. When he had told Charles that he believed that Alice would never hurt anyone on purpose, he had meant it. His own words made him second guess his urge to leave out of town to never return, and first hear her out instead. It was the least they owed one another.

He wasn't sure how this was going to work out, and if this even was something they could get over, but he wanted to try for himself, for Alice and for Charles.

With a slightly trembling hand, he made his way into the Wyrm, thanking the Gods that it was open. He expected for it to be crowded, but there was just one person. In the back, Alice was playing on the piano that had been there for years for when they had open mic nights.

He smiled a little when he saw her playing, totally absorbed in her own safe bubble with nothing but her own music around her. He remembered how she used to play when they were younger and he was glad to see she hadn't given up on it.

It wasn't until he stepped further into the bar that she noticed him, her fingers freezing immediately. He could see her swallow, as if she was trying to brace her for the fight that was about to come. But he wasn't going to yell.

"Hey, can we... talk?" He asked, once he stood next to her.

Alice nodded and scooted over a little, so he could sit next to her.

"I'm sorry you couldn't tell me." FP said quietly, looking up to meet her eyes.

Her face softened. It had only been a few days, and yet here he was, looking at her peacefully and apologized for something he hadn't done.

"FP, you have nothing to be sorry for. I kept this secret from you for so long, I should be the one to apologize until my last breath." She said, her eyes filling with tears.

Maybe she wished he would yell at her, somehow seeing the painful look in his eyes made this worse.

"Fred told me what happened." FP explained, realizing that he needed to explain why he wasn't mad at her.

"You believed in me. You really believed that I could make my dreams come true." His voice cracked as he spoke, and for the first time Alice realized that maybe he had never believed in himself.

"Of course I did." She said lovingly, remembering the talent that he had and the insecurities that came with it.

"Alice, you were the first one to think of me as anything more than a very unfortunate boy from the wrong side of the tracks. I can't believe that it's your faith in me that eventually drove us to go our own way."

"If I had made clear that I loved you, and that I would never have chosen New York or my career above us, and our family, maybe we wouldn't be sitting here right now."

Their eyes linked in a long gaze, both of them knowing that they could try and blame everything on each other, that they could choose to be mad, to resent each other forever, or that they could see that it was their strong connection that had made it impossible for them to be who they were meant to be.

"I saw your dream blossoming, FP. How could I have ruined that for you?" Alice asked quietly.

"You were my dream, Alice. More than anything." He said, softly.

"It's my fault you didn't know that." FP looked down at the floor, afraid to see the hurt shimmering in her eyes.

"I should have told you no matter what. You had the right to know. I've thought about it every single day for the past sixteen years." Alice told him, feeling even more guilty than she had felt yesterday.