When I got home, I immediately headed for the bathroom. I grabbed my headphones and blasted Crank That (Souja Boy) as loud as I could as I scrambled to the sink cabinet to retrieve my comfort jar. I really wished I was in the music room right now. I desperately needed to play piano to wind down from whatever the fuck that was, but that wasn't an option.
Chris was dead.
I struggled to open the jar, my hands were shaking so ferociously. I dropped the jar onto the cold bathroom tile and my heart stopped in fear of it shattering, but it didn't. I sobbed harder.
I took deep breaths, trying to regulate my breathing enough to give me the strength to open the jar. The lid unscrewed and I reached for the last cotton wool ball I had left. I tried to hold back the tears as I tore the cotton apart but they fought their way down my cheeks.
--
I hesitated before leaving the note by the piano.
"Hello Daniel, I guess there's no point calling you The Pianist anymore. I get that I might have scared you in the bathroom the other day, but I was being serious. I can sense the power you hold. You know where to find me if you want to make a deal :)"
I hadn't seen Dan in a few days. I worried that it was my fault he stopped coming to school.
YOU ARE READING
The Pianist
FanfictionDan and Phil are high school students who have never spoken to each other... or so they think. The two twinks exchange words through anonymous notes until Phil finally confronts Dan. What happens next will blow your dick off... --- disclaimer: the s...
