Distort the world into clarity

Chapter Twenty: A mutual understanding

The brown eyed whale was laying on a big lounge couch behind Henry.

"Hello, Bee. I heard from Ria you were allowed to leave work early, so this was the perfect opportunity for me to introduce you to Thomas. He's the one who writes our songs. I thought you may want to talk to him since they fascinate you so much," Henry said, uninterested. "Now you have the time to talk to him, before we start our interview."

Excited, Beatrice took a seat in front of the two whales. She was facing their 'noses', as it were. She crossed one leg over the other and turned to the brown-eyed whale. His eyes were big, and sad.

"I have a lot of questions, actually."

Henry chuckled "I thought so." He got up from his sofa. "I'll see you later, Tommy. I'll be back for the interview."

After Henry'd left their presence, Beatrice bit her lip out of anticipation. She didn't want to overwhelm Thomas by asking too much at the same time. She started with a simple and polite question, always a good way to start.

"How are you?"

The whale let out a soft sigh. "Not that great, to be honest, but Henry says it's good for my art, so it has some benefits at least."

Beatrice wanted to ask her next question, now that the pleasantries were out of the way, but Thomas was quicker with his question.

"And how are you doing?"

For a moment, Beatrice wanted to answer honestly. After all, the whale behind the beautiful sad songs she'd become obsessed with may be the only living creature on the planet that could understand her right now, but she was scared. Because what if he wasn't? Then she would be truly alone, for sure, without a glimmer of hope. "I'm good," she lied.

This time, she quickly asked another question, before Thomas would take over the entire interview. "Where'd you get the inspiration for you songs?"

This made Thomas think for a little while. "From pure desperation," he finally answered.

Beatrice's eyes widened. She wanted to hear more.

"I write them, because I miss the sea, I miss my home. I write them, because they remind me of the place the earth once used to be. I write them because I have to. It sounds really dumb, I know, but it's true. They're just sorry attempts to relive the days when everything was still normal."

To anyone else that would've sounded extremely melodramatic, but to Beatrice it made complete sense. She felt exactly the same about his songs. She almost wanted to hug him, but she got a hold of herself. "I feel the same when I listen to your songs."

This time, not Beatrice's, but Thomas' eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yes," Beatrice explained, "I miss the Old World a lot too. That feeling of despair, of mourning, I hear it in your songs. It makes me feel better. That's why I wanted you to stay at the hotel, I need your songs to keep me going. It makes me feel like... like someone understands, like I'm not completely alone."

Thomas nodded and smiled at her. "I'm glad our shows help you a little."

"They're amazing. Even though I'm not always listening very intensively... I always ask around during dinner, if anyone has answers on how to get back," Beatrice admitted.

"No luck yet, right?"

"Nope."

"Me neither."

"I'm not giving up yet, though," Beatrice told him.

The whale kept on smiling at her. "Well then I won't either! We'll get back home."

"Exactly!"

Shifting his body a little to a more comfortable position, Thomas asked another question. "What do you miss the most about the Old World?"