Lily of the Valley

Lily of the Valley: 3-1

He woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling. It had a dirty and ragged texture; its white colours stained by mold and dust. He’d seen it hundreds of times before, but he will never get used to it. This place will never feel like a home.

He looked around the one-room apartment he inhabited. His parents wanted to afford him a nicer place, but he protested, and chose the cheapest apartment in the city. The walls were run down and the floor was creaking. A single window shined sunlight into the room. There were bars over it, which made the room feel like a prison cell. Hardly anything could be described as ‘furniture’, except for a miniature fridge and a closet. On the ground was a sleeping bag, a laptop, a notebook, and a tissue box. All things that reminded him of a place he’d been before.

He looked up and saw a lightbulb dangling from the torn-out ceiling. It was turned off, since daylight was illuminating the room for now. Still, he stared at the lightbulb, as if something was going to happen. He couldn’t help but feel all of this feels familiar.

But the colours weren’t right.

He opened his eyes. The clock indicated that it was two hours past afternoon.

He opened the laptop. The only icon of any importance was the email client. He opened the software and saw that there was one new mail, entitled ‘Rehearsal’. There were also dozens of unread mails just in the last week alone, from 3 different senders. He opened the newest one.

“Mr. SUZUKI, this is JOHN. Today is the 25th. There is a rehearsal today. For the concert next month. You didn’t forget, right? Please come by this time. If you don’t do your job right, it’ll be mine on the line. Talent and age aren’t always going to be on your side, you know. Anyway, please reply when you see this.”

He sighed. It was JOHN again; the general manager at the orchestra he performed for. He couldn’t piss JOHN off any further. He was on thin ice as it is. The guy was the only reason he got to play anywhere. JOHN even told him if SUNNY kept going at this rate, with his talent, he could even have a solo career. Nice guy, though strict. SUNNY wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost this gig. He didn’t want to ask his parents to pay rent for him 3 months in a row.

He remembered how confident he was when he first moved into the city. The offer that he got from JOHN to perform for the biggest orchestra in the state shocked everyone. It had barely been 2 years since he had picked the violin up again. His friends and parents were so proud; he could not let them down. The truth was that they all knew he was struggling, even after 2 years of gigs and studio sessions. Maybe this music thing just won’t work out for him, after all. How could he go back to his hometown after everything, though?

He powered off the laptop without replying. He grumbled and was about to head outside for the venue when he realized something.

The 25th. Today was that day. Everything clicked.

He stood up and grabbed his coat. Now was not the time for this, he muttered to himself. He could figure all this out or have an early midlife crisis later. Right now, it was time to go back home.

It would take 2 hours by bus to get to FARAWAY TOWN from the city. A long ride back home on a shaky, barely populated bus. He leaned back and pulled out his MP3 player.

There was a time when music made him want to die. There was a time when music only reminded him of awful things. His worst mistakes, his worst regrets. There was a time when playing the violin felt like he was stabbing himself. It felt suffocating. There was a time when listening to a waltz triggered panic attacks. Those were bygone days. Look at him now. The violin was literally what kept him alive. It was no longer a reminder of painful memories; he had turned it into a medium which would express that pain.