All About You [On Hold]

Day Five - Music

(Dedicated to RainWhisker because she's reading this story and I don't know, I finished writing this chapter because of her. Thank you!)

Day Five – February 11

Music

 

Music has always been close to me, partly because it rid me of silence. Needless to say, it was my favorite class during school, so much that I looked forward to it every day. And I started liking it even more when I saw you walking through the doors on February eleven.  

     It was your first day in school and to be honest, you looked like you were nervous but then your ruby eyes found my dull grey ones and your expressions changed. They morphed into relief . . . I guess. Ms. Sanders, the music teacher, smiled warmly at you and said something to which you nodded. I would have listened to you but something (well, someone) momentarily distracted me.

     Mark Galum.

     I never really understood what his problem was – I still cannot fathom his reasons for hating me so much. Maybe he disliked me in general, you know, because he’s supposed to, like everyone else. I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.

     He had everything I ever wished for: popularity, loving parents and understanding friends, and despite of having it all, he still had the potential to hate someone. There are things Lay, things that are beyond my reach and the idea of being mean to someone was one of those things.

     “Hey, wimp, what’s that on your cheek? Did mommy forgot your kissy?” He hollered making others laugh. They were laughing at me, just like they did every day. It was ironical to see how my sad moments made them smile. Every punch my father hit me with brought a curl to their lips. I don’t know what gave people the rights to judge someone so quickly, without getting to know them. This was another thing that was beyond my understanding.

     Humans are complicated, Lay. But somehow, you aren’t. You’re unique.

     I tried to control my anger. I really did. I counted till five, breathing slowly but the laughter did not subside, not emotionally. I could hear them in my mind somewhere (I think I still can), their noises were buzzing like a swarm of bees. And however hard I tried to shut them out, I could never succeed.

     I was a failure.

     “Clayton, are you alright?” your musical voice jarred me to reality. You had that effect on me: forcing me to switch moods within a blink of an eye, something I seemed incapable of doing on my own.

     You were sitting next to me, and you looked different. I couldn’t exactly point it out but there was something about you which did not fit right. You tucked your open hair behind your ears revealing a yellow earring which was shaped into a musical note. I think that was the missing element, a touch of yellow on you, almost sun kissed. I swear you’re obsessed with this color, so much that I’ve started associating you with it. Yellow sounds synonym to you, but then so does beautiful. And kind. And pretty. And every other adjective.

       A paper ball suddenly bounced on my desk producing a soft thud. Furrowing my eyebrows, I pried it open. Let’s pass notes, Clayton. It looks fun and I have never done it in my previous school. –L

      I looked at you and found you smiling widely which in turn made me want to grin too.

      I took my black pen and wrote: Okay. If we get caught, it’s on you. –C

     Such a great friend, you are. PS. you don’t have to write ‘c’ now; I know it’s you, silly.

     Before I could reply, another ball came flying. Oh, by the way, which instrument do you play?

     I scrunched my face, thinking how you could possibly know that I played an instrument. And then I realized that we were in a music class. Shaking my head, I wrote: I play guitar. You? PS. I’ll still write ‘C’ because I like it. –C

     You rolled your eyes playfully and tried suppressing your laughter. You had to be a cliché guy, didn’t you?

     I didn’t know what cliché meant at that time. I’m still not sure because you have so many definitions of it that I get confused.

     What does that mean? –C

     Cliché guy is someone straight out of the books: your typical popular jocks that are good at everything and to top it all they also play guitars. And I play guitar too (but that’s different and non-cliché).

     Er, I’m not good at anything, Lay. –C

     “Everybody, go and pick your instruments. I hope you all are ready with your last week’s homework,” Ms. Sanders said in her soothing voice. Sometimes, it felt like she was singing instead of speaking, or maybe she was actually singing and we only thought she was speaking.

     After we sat down with our instruments, Ms. Sanders spoke (or sang, most likely) again, “Now, I’ll call you one by one and you’ll perform for a minute.”

     The music class was divided into three parts: instrumental, vocal, and both. Well, I know what you were wondering back then, Lay. How could I be in a class which required me to do both? And after taking a good look at your expressions, I was confirmed. I didn’t blame you for getting confused. Everybody got confused. Heck, at times I did too.

     Ms. Sanders called my name, which was second on the list. Gripping my guitar I moved towards the makeshift stage. And then it happened: the magic of music. It was something . . . too pure to be described in words. It felt like my fingers knew which string to pluck or what sound to make. Everything was just so natural. While strumming, I closed my eyes for a while, savoring the moment.

     And then my voice pulled itself from wherever the hell it was hiding murmuring the exact words I had been thinking. It’s a wonder what music can do to someone, especially to someone like me. There were times like these where I wondered if everything was worth it. I mean, had I not been partly mute, I would have never even enjoyed a simple thing, like my voice against different harmonies. I guess, that’s one of the lessons of life, you know, to feel grateful for something which is so obvious to others but special in certain ways to one.

     As I opened my eyes and caught you looking at me with awe, I definitely knew it was worth it all. After all, you were the music to my silence.

      Maybe Mark Galum did not have everything I wished for: he did not have you. Hmm. I liked the sound of it.

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Author's Note - Hello, guys. How have you all been? I'm finally done with my exams (I mean I do have some competitive exams left, but whatever). I did not really do that well, I think, but it's finally over now.

As for the chapter, did you like it? I know it's quite choppy at some places and I apologize for that. Seriously, sorry. I haven't written this since past one month and a half, so I had difficulty adjusting, you know. I'll get better now, promise. :)

Anyway, the question - What kind of music do you listen to? Do you play any instruments?

I completely avoid those heavy rock metal stuff and I like to listen to Justin Bieber, Taylor Swift, One Direction and The Backstreet Boys. Lol, I know I'm cliche. :P

So, yeah, bye now.

- SG

26 March 2014