Hjertet til en fiolin

Fars sinne

It had been roughly three days since Arthur's wife, Julia Erstad, went missing. She presumably had taken their two children, Sonja and Alf, with her.

Realistically, Arthur had no evidence that (Y/n) did something to drive her away. Frankly, (Y/n) had his money on her running off of her own volition. Arthur was practically a third child for her to deal with and an unfaithful one at that.

Even so, Arthur kept insisting that he had done something to get rid of her. (Y/n) was homeless now, kicked out from the place Arthur let him have in hopes of getting into his pants again someday.

(Y/n) sipped gently at the light drink he had ordered, gaze drawn right back to that messy bulletin board. Three new posters adorned it, one for each of Arthur's missing family.

In some dark corner of his mind, (Y/n) hoped they never came back. Maybe that would teach Arthur to cherish what he has rather than covet what he doesn't.
_______________________________________

(Y/n) groaned as something pushed against him, shaking him awake and pulling him from the land of dreams.

"I ain't a charity, you damn debaucher. Get the hell out of my tavern."

With a languid stretch that made his spine pop, (Y/n) stood and slammed two coins onto the counter.

"Keep the change, Richard."

"Yeah, yeah... dirty profligate."

The insult was grumbled, quiet as a pin-drop. (Y/n) heard it anyway as he left the pleasent warmth of the tavern.

He wandered the streets for hours, completely lost on where he could go or what he should do. There were no hotels in Ensborg, and all the available houses were much too expensive.

Perhaps... perhaps this was his chance to leave. He could pack a bag and walk somewhere else. It would be taxing and surely dangerous, but-

(Y/n) grunted as he bumped into someone, just barely catching himself on his heel.

"Ah! Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"It's quite alright, I wasn't-... (Y/n)?"

Their eyes met, and (Y/n) was briefly confused.

"It's me, Al!"

The pieces quickly came together after that.

Alban Sando, a boy (Y/n) hadn't seen since he was seven, stood not even two feet from him. He could hardly believe it... his first and only friend from his days at Lakewood Elementary.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same."

The two men simply stared at one another, unable to find the right words. Maybe there were no words left to say... even if there was so much (Y/n) wanted to share.

The man across from him barely even resembled the Alban (Y/n) knew, the young boy he remembered sharing snacks with during recess. Gone were his thick glasses and the acne he never seemed to be able to contain, and his once-crooked teeth were straight as could be.

He was... a stranger. (Y/n) supposed Alban probably thought the same of him. It made his heart feel heavy.

"Well, what are you doing here? I thought your mom carted you off to San Francisco."

Alban shook his head, laughing as if (Y/n) had just told a funny joke. He never was good at reading moods...

"Oh, she sure did. I'm the CEO of Cloudworks now. I'm just visiting my grandpa. He doesn't have much time left, and I wanna be there for him in his final days."

"Oh..."

The smile on Alban's face was weak. Ever since his mom first started grooming him to be the next CEO in their family's business, he would constantly complain about how much he didn't want to take his proper place.

At the time, he said that he didn't want to leave (Y/n) behind. Then (Y/n)'s father started to work on getting them out of Ensborg himself. Alban was gone soon after, and (Y/n) was convinced they'd never see each other again.

"What about you? Can't imagine why you'd want to come back to this place... not when you're no longer tied to it the way I am."

Strangely, he sounded hurt. Tortured, even...

"Funny story, actually. I've gotten myself into quite the mess as of late... seems an opportunity has finally opened up for me to walk away yet again. Literally, this time."

Then (Y/n) was laughing, quickly devolving into sobs of panic.

"(Y-Y/n), what is-"

"I've lost s-so much, Alban. My h-house, my dignity... pretty much everything but the sh-shirt off my back."

The other man embraced him, holding him close as he lost himself in despair.

"Do you... want to talk about it?"

The tone was so kind, so caring... (Y/n) didn't really think about it before he nodded into that chest.

His eyebrows knitted together when he swore he could faintly hear the melody of a violin in the far distance.