Soft Hearts Hold Secrets

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It was rare Muriel hummed.

Why? He didn't quite know. Maybe it just wasn't something a man such as himself was likely to do. His voice was rough and low. He was sure he might have been the slightest bit tone deaf, too. Not to mention humming was usually a happy activity -- mindless, of course, but happy. Muriel knew he wasn't the image that would come to someone's mind at the thought of humming. That was more of a Disney-style protagonist with bright eyes and an innocent charm, something quite different than the image he portrayed for himself. Humming just... was never his thing.

Which was why it had been so odd when he caught himself doing just that while he worked on Asra's car.

He was nearly done sanding when he noticed it. Muriel had leaned back, sitting on his haunches as he overlooked his work, and felt the low vibrations of his vocal chords through the little plastic mask he wore over his mouth and nose. He had stopped, furrowed his brow, and blinked his eyes -- almost as though he had to physically freeze to process everything. Muriel couldn't even tell himself how long he'd been humming, it was that mindless of a process.

But... that didn't mean he didn't know what he was humming.

That song from Asra's phone when he'd gotten the text in the bar. That stupid, poppy, teeth-grindingly catchy song that seemed to cling to Muriel's brain since the moment he heard the little chime. Drunk, Muriel had looked it up the night before on his old laptop he kept beneath his pillow -- typing in the lyrics his fuzzy head could remember while a confused Inanna watched from the floor, her head cocked and her ears perked. He played it once. And then again. And then one more time before he passed out, cursing himself with the spinning record of Taylor Swift in his head. Even with his hangover the next morning, Muriel could hear the lyrics spinning through his aching brain as he dragged himself from bed and into a bitterly cold shower.

He didn't like it. Not one bit. It was jumpy and exciting and... childish, if he had to say so himself. Muriel only listened to music in the car, and even then is was old, slow rock -- sixties and seventies were his favorites. Occasionally he'd play a slower Nine Inch Nails song, but only because he liked their shirt design. But poppy Taylor Swift? With animated bass and computerized keyboards? Muriel almost hated it.

Hated it so much he couldn't help but hum out the melody as he worked.

Muriel gave a low sigh and rolled his eyes, scooting back from the car and pushing himself up to his feet. The body was a sad, ugly grey by then -- stripped of its eye-popping magenta with Muriel's sanding tools. He'd been working on the fine details, erasing any strip of color he could by hand before he would wipe it all down with thinners by hand too. There was no denying he had certainly taken on a handful with Asra's Jeep, the work proved itself in the sweat prickling at his neck and the aching muscle pains in his lower back and shoulders. Muriel slipped the mask from his face and set it down on the table as he walked by it, reaching out for his water bottle and guzzling down a few good sips.

It didn't matter if it was too much. The money was going to help him a lot. Asra was already looking at a four hundred dollar job -- Muriel had underestimated the cost. But, considering that five hundred dollar tip he left in Muriel's tip jar from the day before, he guiltily assured himself it would be fine. And if it wasn't... Muriel wasn't opposed to slimming down the bill. With all the breakfasts he was sure the odd magician would take him to in the future, Asra was going to be wasting enough money on him.

Those five hundred dollars were still in that jar from yesterday -- Muriel had been foolish and left them all there in the garage when they left for Asra's hotel. Luckily, no one broke into the shop, so everything Asra gave him was still there, rolled up into a compact wad that would likely sit on Muriel's kitchen table until the next payment to Lucio was due.