Boredom Ensues

Teaser to a WIP

DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS FOR A PROJECT I'M CURRENTLY WORKING ON.

This isn't the DnD Project I was working on though (for the people who know about that). However it is an idea I've had in my head for a while and I've finally began to get a good idea for a first plotline. So here you go! Again, if you don't want spoilers for this WIP (Known as The Adventures of Lifetimes) then do not read. However, if you want a nice little snip of what I've been writing, then here you go! Enjoy!

***

Sean arrived home, after deciding that social awkwardness in a shop would bring this day overboard. All of this was mad, crazy, and completely overwhelming. How could they even think of asking Sean to help? He was in a tough state already with his irregular sleep and constant nightmares. This was in no way going to help him, and he was in no mood for strange childish adventures. People coming from a strange blue storm? A soviet soldier? A manic musician? A scientist? A royal leader?!

So many people.
Too many people.

He layed down on the couch, holding his knees tightly, allowing his mind to rest from this madness.

Until he heard a knock on the door.

With a defeated sigh, he got up and shuffled towards the door. He opened it to find the loud obnoxious EJ standing in front of him, his round blue shades from the 80s reflecting the sad pitiful look of Sean. He scoffed, "What do you want? I don't want you here, I didn't even tell you where I live! So why are you here?" Sean at this point couldn't even find the energy to push EJ away, to slam the door in front of his stupid face and walk away. All he could muster the energy to do was stand there, hoping to hold in his screams of insanity.

EJ took a deep breath, "I understand your confusion. I mean, I don't know what the nerds are talking about, I can't comprehend the loss behind Prince-boy's eyes, and I can't fathom what's going on in Father-Russia's head. Everyone here is just as confusing to me as they are to you."

"At least you have something note-worthy. Learning every instrument? That's a talent, at least. You're still someone."

EJ shook his head, "I wasn't always like that though, dude. You think I was born into the world of music? No one is! We all have our tough times! We all have our struggles, some bigger than others... I may not be you, I may barely know you, but I can see the pain in your eyes, the desparation for rest, the want for reason and normalcy. I know that feeling, as it was the feeling I had when trying to start my music career. It's tough as hell, and everyone is screaming your name, wanting -or forcing- you to play again. And if you were to fall behind? You'd be forgotten, left as a moment in history, a blunt pencil left in the bottom of a pencil case.
"I worked my way to the top, and it was tough as hell. It doesn't mean you can't do the same, though! My guess is that the main difference between us is when it came to what we want to become when we're older. I mean, I remember having a choice between going for something involving the arts and something involving the numbers. On that day, a voice told me to pick the arts, and so I went into music. However, I feel like it should've been you to take my place."

Sean turned away, "What makes you say that? I haven't got that talent-"

"Then why is there a keyboard in your house?" EJ Smiled, nodding over Sean's shoulder. Indeed, resting near an old family photo hanging on the wall, a large keyboard sat -keys still as white as pearls. "If you didn't have talent, if you didn't think you have talent, then you wouldn't have kept that all these years."

"How do you-?" Sean was about to ask, yet the memory came flooding back instead. A child on christmas seeing the piano his sister had gotten. Listening to her play, listening to her sing, and secretly at night learning from her. Sitting at the piano as the stars shone through the window, small candles lit to allow him to see as he mimicked his sister. Soon enough learning the movements and going forward to learn more pieces of his style. Grabbing old recordings of solemn, emotion-driven music and playing along. As time went on the sister was beginning to give up, and so the child helped her instead. They started small, but soon enough she began to play better than the child. He smiled as he watched her sing and play, listening to the performance.

Years passed and the child grew, the sister grew as well, but she still had a lot more to learn. As a thanks, when the man packed his things and began to head off, the sister gave him her keyboard. She smirked, asking him to promise that when he had finished practicing to come home again and show her what he had learnt. He kept playing, learning more and awaiting the day he would come home.

Awaiting the day she would return.

Yet that day would never come...

EJ watched Sean as he began to sway slightly, "Hey, Sean, let's sit by the keyboard, okay?"

Sean heard her voice in that sentence, smiling through the pain of the memory, "You want to hear what I learnt? I've- I've been waiting-" His voice stumbled and quivered, and he lowered his head.

EJ lifted it up calmly, "Of course, bro, I'd love to hear how well you're doing."

They both walked to the keyboard, EJ looking at Sean calmly, allowing Sean to close his eyes. His hands rested on the keys, and soon enough he began to play. The notes filling the room and enveloping them in a melody of hopeless hopes. The song was sad, and yet it felt like there was joy embedded within, hiding between beats and bars. Every sharp and every natural joining together and sewing together a piece. The left and right hands worked in coordination unlike anything ever seen before. Sean's mind flowed with the melody, his body moving with the raise and lower of notes. His fingers gently pressing down and lifting away as the sound played. Images practically could be seen in both EJ's and Sean's eyes. An image of a girl, a painting of a piano, and the vase filled with flowers resting by a stone. The flowers starting as a pure white, and slowly being stained with a deep red that flowed down to the water they sat in. The image of the girl slowly growing up, but never getting older. Her happy smiles and joyous face slowly fading away as time went on. The last image that came by from them both, as tears slowly fell onto the keys, was the last look they saw on her. Her hopeful smile, her waving hand, her kind eyes telling the boy that she awaited his return. Her strong stance that no one could topple, even with a thousand boulders.

Yet the image of that stone shone through. The resting flowers, the black suits and dresses, and the rain of water and salt that fell to the ground.

The melody stopped, with Sean slowly raising his hands from the keys.