Whispers of a nightmares

Akumu

I was lost in the music, eyes closed, letting every stroke of the bass pull me deeper into my own world. The final song for practice was my chance to pour everything I had into the notes, and I was giving it my all. My fingers moved almost instinctively, chasing the rhythms like they were a part of me.

Then, my fingers slipped, hitting the wrong chord. "Ugh, shit. I need to stop messing up," I muttered, frustrated with myself.

But then I heard a laugh, followed by clapping. "Yeah, you really do need to stop messing up," came a smooth, teasing voice.

I turned around in surprise, dropping my bass. My heart skipped a beat. "Were you here the whole time?" I asked, hoping he hadn't witnessed my entire mess.

"Mhm," he said, his voice low and alluring. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to me, his presence both commanding and calming. "You're really good, you know."

A smile tugged at my lips as I came back to reality. "Wait, I don't even know your name."

"Akumu," he replied, his gaze steady.

"I'm Mai, but you seem to know that already," I said, trying to sound calm despite my racing heart.

"Yeah, they've mentioned you in auditions. This band is a mess, but I kinda like it," he said, a grin playing on his lips.

I nodded, feeling a strange connection to him. I picked up my bass again, determined to play with renewed emotion and depth. As I started again, I felt a surge of purpose. The notes flowed through me with more passion, the music enveloping me completely.

Suddenly, I felt his presence behind me again. I made another mistake and shouted, "Shit!"

"Calm down, Mai. You just need to—"

His voice trailed off as he wrapped his arms around me. His dark hair brushed against my face as he adjusted my fingers and corrected my posture. I could feel the heat from his body, and his scent—a mix of musk, cigarettes, and roses—filled the air. It was oddly intoxicating, adding to the intensity of the moment.

"Here, try this," he said softly. "And when you play, try to forget everything around you. Get in the zone."

I took a deep breath then closed my eyes again, letting his presence merge with my own rhythm. As I played, everything else faded away. I felt a profound clarity, the music enveloping me completely. It was like I was floating on sound, my heart racing in sync with the beat. I was lost in a space where nothing existed except the connection between me and the music.

I took a breath, the moment hanging in the air like the fading echo of a bassline. Akumu watched me with that same confident smirk, his cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers. He seemed calm, almost too calm, like someone who always had control over everything. Meanwhile, my heart was still racing from the intensity of playing, and maybe a little from his closeness.

"You really got into it that time," he said, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "See? I knew you had it in you."

I let out a breath, trying to relax. "Yeah, thanks for the help. I guess I just needed to stop overthinking."

He nodded, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and flicking the ash. "Most people do. Music's about feeling it, not just playing it." He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a playfulness in his gaze, like he was sizing me up but already knew exactly what I was thinking.

I felt a small smile tug at my lips. "You sound like you know what you're talking about."

Akumu grinned. "Maybe I do." He paused for a second, his expression softening. "You know, it's rare to find someone who plays with that much emotion, even when they mess up."

I laughed, still a little embarrassed by my earlier mistakes. "Yeah, well, I do plenty of that."

He raised an eyebrow, stepping a little closer. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Mai."

The way he said my name sent a chill down my spine, but I shook it off, trying to keep things casual. "So, what's the deal? You just going around helping random bass players?"

He laughed, the sound low and smooth. "Not exactly." There was a brief silence, and then he slipped his phone out of his pocket, holding it out to me. "But I wouldn't mind keeping in touch. You know, for... band stuff."

I looked at his phone, feeling a mix of surprise and nervous excitement. "Band stuff, huh?"

He smirked again, his eyes gleaming. "Yeah, sure. Or maybe just to see how you're doing. You know, check if you're still overthinking those notes."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the smile spreading across my face. I reached for his phone and punched in my number. "Alright, Akumu. But don't blow up my phone with advice."

He took the phone back, glancing at the screen before slipping it into his pocket. "No promises, princess."

The nickname made my heart skip again, but I tried to act all collected. "Well, I'll see you around, I guess."

He gave me one last smile, this one softer, almost genuine. "Count on it." He flicked his cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before walking toward the exit.

As he disappeared from sight, I realized I was still holding my bass, my fingers frozen on the strings. The room felt quieter, emptier without him in it, and I was left standing there, wondering what the hell had just happened.