Lucy and Wes

Wes

Love is a friendship

set to music.

~Joseph Campbell

Wes

He bashed his head against the wall, remaining there, still and defeated. The noise was uproarous, causing stabbing, gnawing headaches, like the sounds were trying to claw their way out of his head. He gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might shatter. The walls seemed to be closing in on him, and the noises just kept getting louder. He pressed himself closer to the wall as he sank to the floor, doing his best not to cry out in pain. No, he would not show his weakness. The noise would only get worse. He clenched his hands into fists and tried to endure the pain. He let out a soft whimper that he quickly turned into a growl of frustration.

“Enough!” he roared, winding back his fist and punching the ground as hard as he could. Bad idea. The pain was unbearable, between the headaches and his fist. He yelled, carressing his hand. The noise in his head fluctuated, as if it were mocking him. He exhaled loudly and leaned up against the wall. He could not be defeated. He wouldn't. Giving in would only make things worse. After his hand stopped throbbing, he grabbed his guitar from his side, hoping the sweetness of the music would calm down his aching head and quiet his mind. Literally.

He quickly tuned it and played a few chords, wincing as the noise from the guitar seemed to worsen the noise in his head. Regardless, he started to play a wordless tune. He lacked skill in writing good lyrics, his attempts sounded like a two-year-old had written it, but his music was beautiful. Despite all the pain and hardship he has gone through, the music was not pessimistic or cynical. It was mellifluous. It was calming. Serene.

The noise evaporated, leaving no traces that it had ever caused the insufferable pain that he was left to endure so often. His mind was at ease. So, left with an inner quiet he hadn't felt all day, he continued playing the bewitching melody for an audience that never existed.