A Guitar's String

Chapter II

Evident from Mike’s face are excitement and regret. Well, that’s what I see anyway. I never know what runs through his mind.

“Ace?” he whispered, though it wasn’t a whisper enough because I heard it. Dumbass.

I don’t know. I felt the urge to cry, to wrap my arms around him, and maybe to slap him because of the pain I had to go through. Being known as the person who graduated with flying colors from majoring in hiding the inner feelings, I kept my calm, and as professional as I can get, put on a smile, walked towards him then extended a hand. “Ms. Woodley. Nice meeting you, Mr.?”

I was trying to be professional, but it turns out, I was acting bitter. With Rob beside me, I know I have to conceal the pain. Mike stared at me, maybe he feels awful that he’ll be working with me. However, my hand – my extended hand – is still there, waiting for his hand.

“Michael.” He answered, taking my hand firmly for a shake. “Michael Stanford. Nice meeting you, Ms. Woodley.”

There are time I feel like I’m too awkward for someone and this surely is one of those goddamn days.

It was him who broke the hand shake first. I looked at Rob who cleared his throat.

“You must be the new musical director for the duet. I’m Robert Harrison.”

“That would be me, yes.”

It was my time to clear my throat. “Let’s start? Maybe we can finish stuffs early.”

It was all I could do to get rid of Mike as soon as possible, though I know I’d be spending a month or two with this dumbass.

The day, as always, went by fast and without one of us noticing, it was almost 9pm. I’m always skeptical about going home even though things aren’t finished yet, but this time, I’d have to agree that we have to be heading home now. Not because I’m tired, but because I need to get away from his presence.

After the fuckin’ goodbyes, I grabbed my jacket from the rack then walked swiftly towards the exit, hoping to find a taxi that will lead me to the station. As lucky as I can be, there was none. Zero visibility of taxis having no passengers. It was snowing real hard, and my sweater isn’t helping.

“What the fuck?” Seriously? Someone keeps honking at me. I tilted my head to the side and found Mike.

“Hop in.” He said, staring at me with a warm smile.

“I can manage.”

“Ah, your ego.” He said, coolness all over his tone, but I can see the disappointment in his eyes so I had to look away. “I don’t expect you to talk to me all throughout the ride. I just want to make sure you’ll be home safe.”

Sighing, I thought of the possible options – which is zero. Null. None. Nothing. I rubbed my palms together to at least have a source of little heat, then walked towards his car.

There was extreme silence – awkward silence, really. The atmosphere was filled with what seemed to be unspoken feelings. Closing my eyes, I tried to relax. That was the only thing I could do to keep my eyes from gazing at him. One more look at him, I feel like tears will soon run down my cheeks.

I’m moving on. I’m near the finish line. But now, here he goes with his charming smile, his soft voice. Those hazel eyes that were once the reason why I’m mostly lost inside his thoughts; those lips that used to keep me shut. I have no idea how long I kept my eyes shut, but when I opened my eyes, his gaze was melting. His eyes were soft and I can tell there were unshed tears.

“I-I have to go.” Fuck. Why am I even stuttering? Shit. Shit. “Thanks for the ride.” I had to keep my eyes away from his. I’m longing for his touch, the heat that we once shared, his lips. “No.. Ace. Stop.” I kept telling myself that it seemed to be like my mantra that minute.

“See you tomorrow, Ace.” He said calmly.

“It’s not like you’re not my, I mean, our, musical director, right?” I said, letting myself chuckle a tad. “So, yeah. See you tomorrow, Mr. Stanford.”