Something - Quinn Fabray

Chapter 26

The next day Ryan woke up at six, as usual, but decided not to go for his usual run. It was one of those days he needed his music. After dressing and dawdling in his room, he slowly ambled down to the music room. After browsing through a few sheets he sat down at the piano and started picking out the notes and harmonies to random songs that ran through his head. He did know how to read music, of course, but he wasn't really able to translate it into his hands. No, his talent had always lay in his vocals. His perfect pitch gave him some slight proficiency at the piano, though.

"Pity the Child, from the musical Chess."

Ryan turned around to see Shelby watching him from the doorway. He gave her a small smile. "It's too early for you to be awake."

"Couldn't sleep." Shelby walked towards him, surprised to see that he wasn't playing from a sheet. "I thought you didn't play."

"Not formally. I can pick out melodies and add harmonies, though."

Of course, he had perfect pitch, Shelby realized. Like she did. She decided not to comment, though, instead focusing on something else. "Chess is one of the more unknown musicals," she commented. "It wasn't very popular here in America."

"No," Ryan admitted. "I just got a copy of the soundtrack from somewhere, and I read up on the storyline. I like the UK version better."

"So did I," Shelby agreed. "I was actually in a production of Chess in New York back in, oh, 1999, I think. London version. It wasn't Broadway, just a small-scale production."

"What part did you play?" Ryan asked, interested.

"Florence Vassy, of course." By then she'd given up on taking the smaller backup roles, choosing instead to focus more on the teaching career she'd had going on at a small music studio. At that point she'd started to accept she wasn't going to make it like she wanted to. But a main role, even one in a small production, was too good to pass up. "It ran for nine shows."

"That's very impressive," Ryan said in awe. "Florence's songs need a very expansive vocal range and really good pitch control, since the melodies jump so much. And you need a lot of belting power." He looked at her for a moment. "I tried a few of the songs out a while back. I couldn't get the phrasing right," he admitted.

"It does take a lot of practice," Shelby agreed, trying and failing to keep a smug look on her face. The two fell into silence again.

"When I was with my dads, music was really what I used to express my feelings," Ryan mentioned absently, running through a few more chords on the piano. "I always identified with Freddie a bit,"

Shelby looked at him, a sad expression in her eyes. Of course he would identify the most with Freddie, the chess prodigy broken inside from his unhappy childhood, hiding from the world behind a mask of brash cockiness to the point that he ruined anything good that came into his life.

Ryan started playing a melody line again, and Shelby moved to sit next to him on the piano bench. "Scoot over." When Ryan obliged, she started playing the accompanying part to the song. After a while her son started to sing.

When I was nine I learned survival

Taught myself not to care

I was my single good companion

Taking my comfort there

Up in my room I planned

My conquests on my own

Never asked for a helping hand

No one would understand

I never asked the pair who fought below