One Shots

Apologize

Characters:
Judy: Jackie Evancho
Patrick: Orlando Bloom

《 You tell me that you're sorry
Didn't think I'd turn around and say
That it's too late to apologize

I loved you with a fire red
Now it's turning blue
and you say"Sorry" like an angel
Heaven let me think was you
But I'm afraid
It's too late to apologize》
OneRepublic - Apologize

After school, I grabbed my guitar from my dorm room and made my way over to the rehearsal rooms. My school had the focus laid on Music and Health, so it was required for everyone to learn at least one instrument and take two health classes like Cooking, Massage, Gardening, Sports (Volleyball, Basketball, Soccer or Athletics) or Health and Nutrition. This year I'd taken Massage and Cooking along with Guitar and Vocal Training, but for the last two years I was in Athletics and in Volleyball. How it happened that I, who was taking two sports classes, suddenly chose to drop out of both? That's a long story, but long story short, I started liking a boy who had both classes with me, he liked me too, we started seeing each other, not exclusively but everyone knew something was going on. And then I made a mistake which he couldn't forgive me. He stopped talking to me, stopped looking at me, stopped holding the doors for me. It was like I had never existed for him. I died to him that day. And for a long time, I would've still died for him. His name? Patrick.

I opened the door of the rehearsal room and laid my guitar on the small desk on the left side of the room. I took out my sheets and sat in front of the piano. Every room had one, some better, some not so good. Even though I wouldn't call it playing what I did on the piano, I knew enough to play my favourite songs. So I played the first chords of Kelly Clarkson's Song "Someone" before I started singing.

So this is my apology
For saying all those shitty things
I wish I didn't really mean
I'm sorry I'm not sorry

The time where I started learning this song, had been the time shortly after things with Patrick ended, but in time the song had now lost his meaning in that context.

I went on playing a few more songs, including "Empathy" by Alanis Morissette and "Better Left Unsaid" by Ariana Grande.
When I was in the middle of singing "I was here" by Beyoncé, I heard the door being opened. I trailed off, still embarrassed of singing in front of other people, even though I could barely go 5 minutes without singing something. But when I turned around and saw HIM, Patrick, standing in the doorframe, I turned back to the piano and continued where I had left off. This was my life song and he wasn't a part of this life any more. And when I sang the next lines, I sang them to him.

I just want them to know
That I gave my all, did my best
Brought someone to happiness
Left this world a little better just because...
I was here...

I didn't bother looking at him, but I knew he was still standing there in the doorframe, the door closed behind him.

I was here... I lived, I loved
I was here... I did, I've done
Everything that I wanted and it was
More than I thought it would be
I wanna leave my mark so everyone will know
I was here...

I played the final chords and then just sat there, waiting for him to speak up while I shuffled through the sheets, looking for another song.
"Judy?" His voice was interrogative, in a tone which I only had heard before when he was asking me if something was wrong. Had he expected another reaction? I wanted to stay calm, to act like I didn't care anymore, but my shaking hands were giving the lie to me.
I kept silent, although I wanted to turn around so badly. I wanted to scream at him, tell him that no matter what he said, it wouldn't make a difference.
Then he spoke up again. "Judy, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry and that I've forgiven you."
Wrong sentence, wrong sentence. I felt white burning rage building up inside me. I wasn't the one who needed his forgiveness any more. I had forgiven myself a long time ago and now, a whole year later, he had the impertinence to tell me he'd forgiven me? And his short sorry wasn't any better than what he'd already scribbled into my yearbook: "I'm sorry it had to end like this." It had? No it hadn't. It was his decision. I tried my best to regain my composure before I turned around and said: "A little bit late, don't you think?" It came out a lot sharper than I thought it would. Then I turned around again and started playing the song which was right on top, a surprisingly fitting song.