𝕊𝕋𝕆ℝ𝕀𝔼𝕊 𝔽ℝ𝕆𝕄 𝔸 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻 ～ 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘔𝘤𝘈𝘷𝘰𝘺

62 - [JM] Sirenic (AU)

S I R E N I C
adjective [sahy-ren-ik]

Melodious, tempting, or alluring.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

You pushed through the energized crowd, just to get the slightest glimpse of him performing. You finally got a chance to see your senior perform and you weren't wasting the opportunity staying at the back, getting trampled by feet.

Someone grabbed your arm and pulled your forward, right to the front of the crowd. Your friend cheered as she led you towards her. You were shoved around and sprayed with sweat, but you were enjoying yourself.

As the guitar shredded and the drum bass thumped within your chest, you stared in awe at the singer on stage. He was so much more fascinating and mesmerizing in person. You've only heard your friends talk about him... until now.

James was in one year higher than you, in his last year of college. He was majoring in architecture but performing was really where his talent lay. Time and time again people would question his life choices but all he did was shrug them off. No one could tell him what to do, he did as he pleased and saw right. He didn't fear anyone, he didn't care much about what other people thought of him.

You found everything about him unreal, breathtaking to say in the least. He was multi-talented, respectful, super-smart, and on top of it all extremely good looking.

You felt all the noise drown into silence gradually as your attention was fixated on James, standing in the middle of the stage with his iconic look and a fedora on his head. You wondered how it would be to be his friend, you wondered how it would be to personally know him... It was all so strange. Come to think of it, you have never really seen him around anyone-

Applause erupted, causing you to jerk in surprise. It brought you back down to earth, you felt disoriented for a moment before you joined in the applause.

You smiled widely as you thought at a moment your eyes met is as he scanned the crowd and bowed. You wanted to wave at him, try to get him to notice you but before you knew it, he was off the stage.

You felt out of place all of a sudden, as you stood in the middle of the reckless crowd, wondering what to do now. Go back to your usual daily routine? sure... you would probably do that regardless.

But you wished you could see the show again. The way he performs... It's surprising that he isn't famous nation-wide.

*****

3 days later...

You stepped into the music room, placing your bag against the right legs of the seat for the piano then sat down. You lifted the piano cover and pressed the middle 'c' key, testing the sustain with the pedals.

You started playing basic chords with your right hand, forming a simple beat. It sounded sad, something settled at the back of your mind, buried deep inside your psyche. You didn't know where the music was coming from, you just let your unconscious flow.

You hummed a rhythm, something that sounded equally melancholic. You began to sing a few words and suddenly you were hit with some inspiration. The song sounded lovely to your ears.

You sat up straight and lifted your left hand, resting it on keys that would compliment the chords played by the right hand. You picked up the beat and starting mumbling the words that popped into your head.

SCREECH!

You swiftly turned back to the room door that came to a slow close. You expected to see someone at the door but no one was there. You looked around the room slowly for any sign of a new visitor.

No one...

Were you hearing things? No... the door had clearly opened, but there was no indication of someone entering.

You turned back to the piano and returned to playing the song floating in your mind. You were about to reach the chorus, you increased the loudness of your singing, finally feeling like the song was growing on you.

You shut your eyes and continued to sing, stopping for a moment to think of the words ahead and-

"Is that an original?"

You slammed your hands down on the keys, playing the wrong chord, as you jumped in fright. You turned to your left to find a young guy walking up to you from being hidden in the shadows near the seats.

"It sounds really good!" He commented and your stared at him, terrified at who was speaking.

Of course it had to be James who stumbled upon watching you mess around on the piano, who else could it be?

Even though you were conscious of his presence, you got a good look at his figure. He was wearing the extremely fashionable jackets and shoes that he usually does, and the fedora that he's known for.

You moved your hands away from the keys and placed them on your lap, feeling conscious all of a sudden, making him frown

"Why did you stop?" He questioned, "Was it my fault? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have barged in like that unannounced. I just wanted to put my guitar back."

He looked over to the instrument rack, where the drum kit was placed, and you followed his gaze.

You were afraid to talk to him, out of not wanting to embarrass yourself more than you have already done, but at the same time you felt as if it would be rude if you kept quiet.

"I'm James by the way, I don't think we've met before," He introduced and you shook his hand hesitantly.

"[y/n], and no we haven't," You replied and smiled softly.

"Wait... Did you come to my performance a few days ago?" He questioned, "You did, didn't you. You were awfully quiet in the front row, comparing to everyone else around you!"

You chuckled nervously and ran a hand through my hair, "Y-Yeah that was me."

He glanced at the watch on his hand and raised his eyebrows. "Well I'm sorry I have to go," He told and straightened his hat, "I'll see you around then?"

"Sure," You mumbled and watched him walk towards the door. He turned around before exiting and grinned.

"You know, you have a lovely voice. We should jam together sometime, maybe work on that song you cooked up!" He expressed and tipped his hat to you. He swung the door open and walked out, and you continued to stare at the spot where he had stood.

Did he just say that? Did he compliment your singing?

The encounter felt unreal, it was so quick.

You smiled to yourself and bit your lip, then turned back to the piano and continued playing. Maybe you wouldn't ever meet him again... or maybe you would.