Selene and the Moon

12- Bye bye Earth

It's nine.

Nine, in the morning.

Yawn.

I pull myself up and change into something flimsy but comfortable i.e a thin draping dress that reaches to my calves.

My bed creaks as I get off it. I rearrange my bed things into a tidy arrangement then walk out the door.

Downstairs, Dad's drinking coffee and poring over a magazine, occasionally stopping to Google some vocabulary he doesn't understand.

"Morning Dad."

"Ja. Guten morgen Moon Goddess."

I blink. Blink again. "Huh?"

"You do not speak the dialect of the German?"

"God dad."

He smirks.

"I've been brushing up on my deutsch," he says, looking way too smug for his own good.

Dad holds up the article.

Oh. A German magazine about cars.

"Er- Ok."

I pour myself some tea and sit down at the table.

"Want some toast?," he asks.

"No thanks. I don't want breakfast today."

He frowns. "Are you sure, MG? It's not like you to suddenly go on a diet. Also..."

Dad takes out another magazine, with a picture of dessert on the cover. Flipping quickly to a certain page, his eyes skimming the sentences over and over, his gaze finally lands on a picture of some food.

"Aha! Here."

He shoves it towards me.

I read it. "Dietary stuff? Really Dad?"

"Yup. Finish reading it."

There's some stuff about how skipping breakfast makes you fatter, not thinner.

After a while,

"Dad, this isn't about me going on a diet and wanting to get thinner."

"Oh. Well, now you know."

He starts heading towards the main spot of interest, namely the piano.

"Wait, dad, I want to play too."

Dad pauses mid step. "What did you say?"

"Can I play too?"

He opens his mouth. "Of course!"

Whoa. Hold on. Are you confused? Let me explain. My dad plays piano, but only because I do. I'm better than him actually, a diploma level two. My dad's a diploma one, impressive in itself, but you know.

I sit down on the stool.

My hands finger the piano.

It's second nature. It all flows from my heart into the piece- I've always been better at rubato , something which is a problem in competitions due to me straying off the rhythm.

Beethoven's Sonate, No.8: Pathétique - 3rd movement.

A piece I've always connected with. Sure, it's not as flashy, or impressive as a diploma two (it's a diploma one like my dad is) but sometimes...

You just need a break from it all.

As soon as I'm done, I start playing scales, arpeggios, exercises, that sort of thing.

"Ouch."

My hand just got stuck between some keys while I was 'glissing' (practising glissando).

Distracted, I lift myself up from the piano stool in a hurry to go and rinse some cold water on my hurt finger.

Dad looks up from his Duolingo app. (He's a bit obsessed with it. He bought us a family membership, and 72 pounds for what? Language learning?) "What's wrong MG?"

"Nothing- you can play."

Before he can reply, I hurry up the stairs to my bedroom, slam the door, and for some strange reason, start crying.

Why am I crying? I don't know. Maybe it's the stress of messing up my glissando, which never happens, or something else, like me not wanting to leave, or me missing my sister, missing Verity, missing the mom I never knew.

Oh no- I can hear footsteps outside.

I quickly lock the door.

The handle turns but the door doesn't open.

"Selene, you ok?" Dad's concerned voice rings out. "Heard the sound of crying from inside your room."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say confidently. "I was just... laughing, that's what."

I hurriedly wipe my face, then open the door.

"Okay," chirps Dad happily.

He leaves.

I know I need to pack my bags now.

Bye bye, Earth. I'll miss you.