The Pianist

Chapter Nine - Blood, Blood, Gallons of the Stuff

TW: mentions of self harm & scars

"You're the Pianist, aren't you?" Phil asked.

I hadn't spoken to anyone in almost ten years. Why did he think I'd start talking now?

"The what?" I asked. The only reason I spoke at all was because I knew he was :)

"The Pianist. Don't play dumb with me, boy. I know the truth." He looked at me with such intensity. I didn't expect Phillipe to be this assertive... I couldn't back down. If I hid in a stall, he wouldn't give up, and I couldn't get past him to the exit.

"Yes. It's me," I confessed, "But I don't know why you care."

"I don't think you're as much of an outsider as you say you are, Daniel," the raven-haired boy said, "But furthermore, I saw the blood."

The blood... Fuck, I knew writing a note to :) after cutting myself was a mistake. I was frozen. Would Phil defrost me? Or would he force me to see the counsellor, resulting in another trip to the psych ward? I just wanted to melt and drip down the drain...

I watched as Phil slowly rolled up his own sleeve, to reveal scars on his own arms. As if that would make me feel better? Some kind of sick solidarity? Yeah, not gonna work, Phil. I couldn't even react.

"I need blood, Dan," He said.

I was taken aback. Baffled, even. He continued before I had a chance to ask him what the fuck was wrong with him.

"I need to get it from somewhere, and if you, The Pianist, are already bleeding, I hardly think it's fair to just let it go to waste. We already have a connection, Pianist, you can't deny that." He inched closer to me as he explained. Well, I'd hardly call it an explanation, but it was something. "Are you gonna cowboy up or just lay there and bleed?"

"What are you some kind of fucking vampire?" I asked.

Phil shook his head. "I'm a blood mage. I can perform magic." I couldn't help but laugh. I looked into his icy blue orbs- No, he was dead serious. Suicidal and absolutely mental... Okay Phillip.

"I know it sounds fake, but seriously, Dan," Phil pleaded, "Ever since I was a child, I've been able to do things, things that other people can't fathom." I shook my head and tried to leave, but Phil stood in front of the door.

"Dan, there's only so much blood I can drain. If I stop practising, my magic will fade."

"Well, what do you do with this magic then, Phillip?" I asked. I saw his body relax slightly as a result of my cooperation. So naive, I was just taking the piss out of him.

"I can do all sorts of things, Dan. I can use my magic to protect, to influence others, and to twist fate. It's the blood that powers my magic. I can do anything if I want it enough, but the more blood I use, the stronger the magic." He took a breath. "Recently, I haven't been able to do magic like I used to. My blood isn't strong enough anymore."

Phil broke the eye contact he'd been maintaining with me and turned to face himself in the bathroom mirror. I turned too, looking at the Phil reflected in the mirror.

"I have iron deficiency."