Relations on Canvas

Chapter Nine.

12 Days.

    It was amazing having Mary standing at the front, every time I glanced at the crowd, his bright smile stood out to me as I played, he seemed so proud and happy... It inspired me to play at my best. The first song by no means was an emotional one but his teary eyes made it one for me in memory.

    With a breath I drew it to a close, pausing in the silence before the applause, turning to stand. It was the first time I would play Monet before a crowd, and it was rather nerve wracking. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen." I bowed, "many of you know my songs well, and tonight I bring you a new one by the title of Monet. Please, enjoy." I dipped my head, sitting once more and waiting for the crowd to settle.

Silence.

I needed no notes to remember the song, for it had been etched into my heart the moment I had created it with Monet. So simple was its format, yet with each note it was a memory. This was my final farewell... one we never got to exchange. Taking a deep breath, I slowed the song, my voice ringing out clear in the air, closing my eyes.

    Our childish laughter as we ran through fields of wildflowers, the sweet smell of him that had always carried the clean scent of medicine, his cold hands in mine, laying in the grass to point out our dreams in the clouds... all this I sang of and more. Each pungent memory I had written down, and for those I could sing, I played.

I had cried every time I played this song, sobbed over my piano, unable to play any further at times, and even now I felt the silent tears running down my face, but I wasn't breaking... no, I had finally been able to bid my goodbye.

.           .           .

    I was a bit worried when I no longer saw Mary in the crowd once I had finished, yet I had to finish the show, so with gut churning worry I did. I had no reason to be so nervous but my heart told me something was wrong.

    And so I kept looking at the crowd as I played, searching for his familiar face until the show was over, thanking my audience I pardoned myself politely, beginning to look in the back for him until a waiter tapped my shoulder.

    "Your companion went to the bathrooms." Even as he said the words I was already thanking him, rushing to lower level restrooms, knocking on the men's door lightly.

    "Mary? Are you in there?" I paused at the sudden silence, quiet sniffles being the only noise to break it.

"No..." He choked out, and my worry increased.

"... could you open the door...?" I leaned my head against the wood. "Please?"

Slowly he opened the door, his eyes red from crying. "I'm sorry- you're playing was truly amazing..." When he turned away I pulled him into a firm embrace.

"Don't apologize, I'm just happy you came. What's wrong, though?" I rested my chin on his shoulder, comforted by the familiarity of having him so close.

"...Music just makes me emotional... that's all." I let him go when he moved away, leaning on the counter. "I only missed the last one, I promise..."

"It's fine, Mary. I can play you any you missed." Clearly it wasn't just that he was emotional... but I didn't know how much I could push the subject. "... would you like to head to somewhere more private?"

"Really, Elia, I'm fine... But I appreciate you for caring... I don't want to ruin your party, I'm having a great time!" He looked back at me with a weak smile, unclipping his hair.

"Ok, Mary." I shook my head, "I want to go somewhere more private to cool down. Will you come with me?" I offered my hand, "and may I dare ask to play with your hair? It's really tempting." It wasn't a matter to push now. He'd open up when he felt he could.