The Aesthetic Question

Craving

Christmas was a hard time for Alex. Nothing was specifically wrong with this festival, or any other festival other than the fact that there would be couples parading the streets. He would never admit it aloud, but anyone who bothered to observe him would know that he craved close human contact more than anything.

Whenever festivals came around, happy couples seemed to be the only thing he could see on the streets. Even the smallest actions like shopping or holding hands were made ten times more romantic under the cheerful mood. Inadvertently, they reminded Alex of his state of being alone and that had always added to the insult on his good looks. He wasn't sure why everyone around him could so easily find their match but he was stuck even with beautiful features that could charm a 50-year-old woman. He was assured of his own charisma, since people seemed to like him but none really got through to him.

He told himself a good match was hard to come by, simply because he couldn't believe that love was hard to come by. It occurred in his life too often for it to be something rare, but rather something that should come so easily he didn't have to cherish it. His last relationship was an example of it.

Candice was one of those who fell head over heels for his charms. They got along well enough for a couple months until she grew tired of him and declared that she needed a break. Alex was too mad to contemplate that he was partly to be blamed so he cut off all ties with her and couldn't even stand being in the same ensemble as she was. He played the wronged party for a solid six months until nobody wanted to listen to him speak another word again. For he could be a sweet and sensitive person, but also incredibly self-centered and headstrong.

All his friends knew this. Some kept a cool distance precisely because of it and some stayed because they sympathized with his destitution. It wasn't a good place to be and all he was trying to do was change it. No one had the heart to tell him that to get out of this situation, he had to first change himself.

Annually, his quartet held a concert on Christmas Eve. It wasn't so much spreading the festivity as it was earning money. Being a violinist was more difficult than people might imagine and he juggled with money constantly. Picking up his precious violin with these thoughts still on his mind, he entered the stage. For a second, he was grateful that this job did not require him to smile as much as Aurora did because he genuinely could not bring those muscles together for other people's entertainment. Using his arms was already a tiring enough feat.

A round of applause commenced the concert and the four nicely dressed boys drowned themselves in the liquid music. The audience never knew that there was never as much practice or rehearsals as they imagined. In fact, a lot of concerts and performances were planned so chastely the performers could only squeeze in a few practices. Other times it was due to plain laziness. Alex knew it better than anyone that when he said he was 'ill', he actually meant he didn't feel like going in for practice and would rather stay home stuffing his face with chips.

Still, they put on a confident face and fooled everyone into thinking they had their lives all put together. Towards the middle of the performance, Alex zoned out a little thinking about the number of happy couples that were sitting watching him. That's when he got off the beat and a terrible screech vibrated off his bow. The strangled sound coming from the E string attracted his fellow musicians' attention, momentarily causing them all to slow down. Being the professionals they were, they waited for Alex to get his shit back together and join the harmony once again.

The rest of the performance went well enough with no mistakes but the damage was done and he was doomed for another week of guilt.

'What the fuck was wrong with you?' His friend had his viola gripped tightly in one hand and Alex was fully ready to dodge the blow.