Play my heart

Chapter VI

For hours on end, he tosses and turns, throws the blankets to the side, gets them back and covers himself to the ears, throws them to his feet a minute later. He has a pounding headache behind the eyes, and his whole body's restless, as if he should be doing something rather urgent. There's nothing to be done, though, so he buries his head under a pillow and keeps his eyes shut.

Five minutes later, he's up and pacing around the living room. He goes through the music in his phone, having to read over each title three times before he registers the words. No piece sounds right at this moment, and soon he throws the phone on a couch with a frustrated groan. He runs a hand through his hair and considers his options.

Sunrise finds him sprawled out on his sofa, looking at the clearing sky through the glass window in the ceiling. Darren stares mindlessly, exhausted, with a fist clasped on the front of his T-shirt. From somewhere between the cushions, his phone rings with an alarm, and he doesn't bother turning it off. He gathers barely enough energy to get up and get ready for the day without much care.

He gets Caesar to pick him up and drive him to school, not trusting himself enough to drive a motorbike in this state. Caesar makes some comment about how horrible he looks and Darren quips back with something of the same nature, working on autopilot.

It's a gray, chilly morning, very in tune with how he's feeling. Nobody asks questions when he skips their first lessons and goes instead to the practice room.

Darren sits on the piano stool and stares at the slick black instrument, without lifting the cover. Next to him, his violin case rests on the floor, untouched. His fingers ache to let out the tension with some playing, but he can't bring himself to do it. The piano makes him think of competitions, and competitions of losing, and losing of the guy who always beats him.

The violin is on a whole different level. He tried to get it out of its case some time during the night, and got hit with such a strong wave of nausea that he almost fell to the ground. He's afraid he'll faint if he touches the wood, so he doesn't try.

Hours later, he meets Caesar and Connor in the group's lounge, and they don't comment on his brooding silence. They go back to their chattering while Darren makes himself some tea.

"It's been like, what, two months? How did he get this far?" Connor muses, setting up the game console.

Caesar plops down onto the sofa. "The guy's some kind of animal," he says, picking up a control. "He's gotten in more fights than Adryan and I combined, and he survives."

Darren's hands freeze when he realizes what —or who— they're talking about. The water in the electric boiler starts bubbling and hissing, but he doesn't hear it. A ringing goes off in his ears as Connor and Caesar joke about renewing their bets.

He storms towards the sofa, fists clenched.

"Can you guys stop joking about this?"

His shout cuts off what Connor was saying, and they both gape at him in confusion. Blood boils in his veins as violent as the water in the kitchen.

"Seriously, they're giving the guy actual hell!" he yells, breathing heavily. "For almost two months he's had to endure more shit we'll ever get in our lives, and they don't stop going at him. It's not funny, it's fucking infuriating, so stop acting like this is some kind of game. What the actual fuck are you idiots on?"

Before his friends can get over their surprise, two voices come down from the stairs. Darren whips his head in the direction of the sound and finds Adryan and Dawn, walking hand in hand towards them. His vision goes hazy and the ringing in his ears becomes a blaring alarm.