A/N: Hey, guys! For those who don’t know, this is my third story. Unfortunately for those who read my Zayn story “Never The Same”, I am discontinuing it, because I don’t know which way to take it anymore. I am hoping that it won’t be the same for this story right here. I’m going to try and be as realistic as possible, but if I make a wrong turn, bare with me. :)
Words in italics signify sign language.
Otherwise, please enjoy.
Thank you for taking time off and reading through the archives of my imagination.
-ian
--
“This is- yes, John, that’s correct. This is the eighth note, and further down is the...” Mr. Harvey’s english accent is thick as he draws the notes on the board, discussing the different notes and how to draw them.
I switch glances from my notebook to the board, writing down important points. “Did you get your textbook yet?” I whisper towards my seat mate, Lena, not looking over. “Yeah, I just got it today. How about you?” I nodded in response, telling her that I was picking up mine today.
“Are there any other questions? If not, I’ll see you next week. Enjoy your weekend.” Mr. Harvey’s words echo the room as the students ruffle their bags, packing up to go to their next classes. “I’m going ahead, my next class is on the other side of the campus.” Lena sighs, pulling her backpack and waving goodbye.
As the students exit the room, I approach Mr. Harvey with a smile present on my face. “Hi, Mr. Harvey. I was wondering if you were still able to give piano lessons?” I ask politely, my hands resting on either side of my backpack. “Yes, I am. You’ll have to be a music minor though.” He responds with a grin, packing up his own belongings.
“I really want to learn how to play.” I take a deep sigh, remembering that I still had to audition to be a music minor. I needed to sing two broadway songs and I was beyond nervous. To make things worse, I still didn’t have anyone to accompany me on the piano.
My gaze fell on the score that was rested on Mr. Harvey’s desk. It was Faure’s Quartet No. 1. I subconsciously flip through the pages, finding the fourth movement. “Have you heard this before?” He asks, walking up next to me. “Nope. I don’t think I have.” I respond.
I look over the notes, and even if I can’t really read them, I can tell that it’s a precise yet sophisticated piece. “Did you want to hear it? My student’s not due till 10 minutes from now, I believe.” He offers. “He’s my top student. He’s truly gifted.” A smile appears across my face. “Yes, please. Only if it’s not too much for you.” He waves my statement off, taking the score and walking over to the piano in the classroom, placing the score in front of him.
“Would you mind turning the pages for me, though? I’ll nod as a signal.” He says, adjusting his seat. “Of course.” I say, excitedly waiting for the sound to flow from the strings in the piano. As he plays the first note, the door opens, and a tall blonde boy walks in. He looks like one of those fraternity boys, with that snapback on. Before I could say anything, Mr. Harvey speaks up.
“Mr. Horan! You’re early today.” He speaks to the boy at the door. I tilt my head, a little confused, because he didn’t look like a person who would give two shits about classical music. He looks at me, and I look away, feeling my cheeks redden. He caught me staring. Great.
I wanted to come and practice a little early. Sorry if I’m interrupting something. I can leave.
I was taken aback instantly. He’s using sign language.
“No, no. That’s alright. Since you’re here, maybe you could play this piece for one of my students?” Mr. Harvey asks, gesturing to me. He nods and smiles at me, walking over to take Mr. Harvey’s spot at the piano.
“You can hear?” I ask politely. He nods.
“He just doesn’t talk.” Mr. Harvey completes, smiling.
Would you like me to turn the pages? I ask, causing him to break into a smile, realizing that I know sign language.
He nods and places his fingers on the keys. He takes a deep breath, then plays. (A/N: Listen to Faure’s Quartet No. 1, link is on the side! And imagine Niall playing it. I know that there are other instruments, but that’s how it’s supposed to be, just try to listen to the piano.)
Only a few seconds into the movement, and I feel chills, all over my body. The sound he produces is so different than anyone else I’ve ever heard on the piano.
His head sways back and forth, his fingers playing against the instrument in such a manner that expresses more that words could attain. I felt my chest tighten listening to him play this score. He plays with the notes, making them his own somehow, pulling him apart from the norm. The emotion of joy overwhelms me, making my eyes start to water.
He plays beautifully, and with such passion, I don’t think I’d want to hear anyone else play the piano besides him.
--
A/N: Wow, I don’t know how to feel, but I hope you like the first chapter.
This fic is going to have a lot of music involved in it, and I hope you’ll like it as much as I do. Notice that I haven’t revealed the girl’s name yet, but we’ll get to that in the next chapter. I hope you liked this one! x
Vote, Comment, Fave?
Let me know what you think!
