you once said; h.s.

2.

before i sat at the old 1967' yamaha baby grand piano, i scanned the crowd, and no sight of my mother. i wasn't expecting her to be here anyways. piano recitals tend to be boring, unless you know the music and you feel it rushing through your veins. you inhale the notes, and exhale a song. i relate to musicians on multiple levels. beethoven was depressed and def, an outcast. yet his music was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever heard, even if he couldn't hear it for himself. mozart was crazy, just fucking crazy. he was gifted at a very young age, and at first hated the fame. it ruined him. one day i worry fame will ruin many people. the world is being slowly destroyed by humanity. we are all monsters feeding on each other's flesh. but one thing always pulls us together, and that is music.
the leather seat of the piano bench is the most comfortable place to be for me. it feels like home. i then speak into the small microphone next to me.
"hello, i am luna black. i have prepared 'the little beggar' by alexander gretchanioff."
i then placed my hands on the ivory keys, and let my heart soar. i felt it swirling inside of me, all of my feelings poured out onto the keys. my mom didn't show up. she was most likely getting drunk with her boyfriend. again. she tries to forget everything that happend too, but we all know the reality of it will never go away. i refuse to speak of it, to anyone. my past is traumatizing and i cannot even begin to fathom my thoughts when i think of the unfortunate events. my life is a mess, and i prefer to leave it at that.
i realize i had repeated the song twice when i snapped out of my thoughts. i quickly stopped playing and reached for the microphone again.
"sorry you guys. i got a little carried away." i chuckled and looked down and stood up, smoothing my dress.
"thank you very much for listening." i said before putting the microphone back on the stand, as the audience clapped and i ran off stage. my piano teacher gave me a high five, "good job, luna. proud of you." he exclaimed and i gave him an assuring smile and walked out the backdoor. i pulled my jacket over my chest and shivered. new york city can suck my ass with this cold weather shit. i went over to my car and drove myself to my crummy apartment. before going inside the small complex, i went over and sat in the middle of the train tracks, my usual smoking spot. i reached into my pocket and opened up a new pack of cigarettes and a lighter. i lit the tip and watched it burn for a small bit before putting it to my lips. i closed my eyes embracing the feeling of death for a moment. a smoke a day will never keep the grim reaper away. that's exactly why i smoke my life away, i want to die. nothing will ever change my opinion on th-
"got a lighter, love?" i heard a low voice say interrupting my thoughts.
"who are you? where are you?" i asked as a figure emerged from the darkness. from what i could see, this man had long curly hair, going to around his mid-neck. he had a beanie on, it looked like it was green, and it matched his eyes. this strangers eyes glowed in the dark, like a cat eye. they pierced me and mezmorized my soul. my heart was in a trance by these eyes. something so simple, yet so beautiful.
"well? are you going to sit there all night and freeze to death, or are you going to answer my question?" i was interrupted once again.
"oh, uh sorry yeah." i said blinking a few times before searching for my lighter and handing it to him. i watched him light his cigarette. it smelt amazing, and i wondered what kind he had.
"mind if i ask, what are you smoking?" i asked.
"mm, it's chanel." he laughed, "nah, i'm just messing with you, it's marlboro special blend." he explained.
"ahhhh, makes sense." i cooed, finishing off my cigarette, taking the lighter back.
"so what is someone like you doing out here crying?" he asked. i felt my eyes, they were dripping. i didn't even realize it.
"now, do you think i would tell that to a stranger?"

-----------

let me know if you guys like this or not? or if i should even continue?