The Last Note [ e d i t i n g ]

The Last Note

    The whine and rumble of the subway filled the noisy tunnel, no one really noticing the daily sound in their lives because they were too busy rushing to new places without enjoying the journey.  People pushed and shoved, mumbling curses about being late.  I hated them.  People, I mean.  A species that plagued and backstabbed to better their own standing, that's all we were.  That's all we will ever will be.

    The close proximity of everyone around me pushing and shoving gave me a headache, putting me in a foul mood.  Shoving my way to an empty spot along the wall, I set down my guitar case.  As much as I hated people, they were a source of money, something that I needed.  The headache started getting worse as the noise around me got louder and louder.  It was getting harder to breathe.  My palms started sweating, my eyes darting nervously back and forth.  I knew I shouldn't have come here again, but money was tight.  I needed to do this.

    Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I took out my guitar, slung it around my shoulder, and started to play.

    My mind cleared up.  I could breathe again as the first chords started to breathe its life into me.  Smiling a little, I continued to play, letting the notes fill me up and consume me entirely.  I tried to ignore everyone else and just concentrate on the song.  The rhythm.  The notes.  

    As the hours drifted by, more and more dollar bills fell into my open guitar case.  I couldn't help but scoff mentally.  We're such a disgusting race, but we enjoyed such a beautiful thing like music, enjoyed it enough to pay for it.  Not like I could say anything though, I was also human.  I was also a monster.

    Still trying to ignore the people rushing past, I continued to play until my arms and fingers ached.  Glancing at my watch, I noticed it was time to go.  My shift at the cafe was soon.  Gathering up my things, I quickly counted the money - $50.  Not bad, but not great either.  It'll have to do.

    In my rush to leave this cesspool, I almost ran into someone.  A girl with hair so dark it was like a curtain of ink framing her pale face.  Quickly looking her up and down, I noted an average face, average body, average everything except for her stunning green eyes that now shone with so much life that I was taken aback.  Immediately, a wild smile spread across her face, making me recoil.  How could someone be so happy?  Especially after almost being run over?

    "You play beautifully," she said, as if it were a normal greeting.  

    "Thank you."  My voice was cool.  Precise.  Clipped, even though all I could do was wonder if she had been listening the whole time.  I tried to move around her, desperate for this conversation to end.  She was too close.  This talk had lasted too long.  I had to get out of here.

    Moving in front of me again, she asked, "You busy after this?"  

    "Excuse me?"  I cocked an eyebrow, not quite believing the nerve and explosion of attitude that had just been fired at me.

    "You heard me.  Are you busy?  We should go somewhere for a date."  Her beaming smile only grew, almost growing feral, and a wild light danced in her eyes.

    "That's none of your business.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm busy and I've gotta go."  I shoved my way past her and tried to hurry on my way towards the cafe that sat on a street corner not even a block away.  Normally, the walk seemed too short, a too quick walk right into the chaos of the small shop that smelled like coffee beans.  Right now, though, the walk couldn't be over quickly enough - not quick enough for me to escape this crazy girl.

    The sound of footsteps followed me up the stairs and down the street, making the urge to run away stronger and stronger.  What was her problem?  Why is she following me?