"Why do you want my help, again?" Virgil asked, folding his arms. "Last time I checked, Patton was your closest friend, not me."
"Patton isn't as musically inclined as you are," Janus told him, fiddling with his guitar pick. "I thought you might be able to help out."
"Because I like music?"
"Because you can play an instrument. I have photographic evidence of that."
Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Uh, who says I can play an instrument?"
"Says the piano in your dining room back home."
"That's for my mom!"
Janus gave him a look.
"And me," he admitted. "But I don't know anything about actually writing songs. I just play songs that already exist."
"Still means you've got a good ear." Janus picked up his guitar and let out a sigh. "Okay, I'm going to play you one I've already written first. I write a lot of different varieties of stuff, but I think you should probably hear one of my better ones before judging one of my works in progress."
Virgil sat forward. "What's it called?"
"The Things We Used To Share. Nothing to do with my actual life," he added hastily. "I wrote it for Mum. She'd been trying to date again over the summer, and it was harder for her than she'd expected. And she'd always tried to see the best in Dad until she got fed up and filed for divorce, so... I thought maybe writing her a nice song could help."
"Awwwww, you're such a mama's boy," Virgil teased.
"I will steal your kidneys, stuff them, and mount them on a wall if you call me that again." Janus cleared his throat and started playing a gentle melody on his guitar.
"You can have the toaster and the PC / Or even my Timothy Green DVD / I'll let you have the couch and the TV / Hang on to the jacket that you bought for me," he sang quietly. "I don't really care / You can keep the things we used to share / But what did you do with my heart? / What did you do with my heart?"
Virgil gave him a thumbs-up. He smiled slightly in return.
"No more fireworks / No more compass / You didn't leave a single butterfly in my stomach / You took my spyglass not knowing what lies ahead / You took my warmth at night, but left a dent in my bed," Janus continued. "I don't really care / You can keep the things we used to share / But what did you do with my heart? / What did you do with my heart?"
Virgil had to admit---Janus was really good with songwriting. He'd probably have this song stuck in his head all day, unless the next song was even catchier.
"Stripped me of my pride / That's for the best / But you also deprived me of a full night's rest / So no more dreams where we pull through / And I can't collect my thoughts 'cause they're still with you," he sang. "Oh, I don't really care / You can keep the things we used to share / But what did you do with my heart? / What did you do with my heart?"
Janus went into a little musical interlude, humming along with the tune, then returned to singing. "I wouldn't take it back even though I feel sore / I meant it when I said 'what's mine is yours' / But I need to know, now that we're apart / What did you do? / I need to know, now that we're apart / What did you do with my heart? / Oh, what did you do with my heart? / What did you do with my heart?"
He slowed it down, playing quieter now. "What did you do with my heart / Oh, what did you do with my heart?"
Janus played the finishing chords, giving Virgil a nervous look. "Did you like that?"
YOU ARE READING
The Academy of S.I.D.E.
FanfictionVirgil's always stayed in the shadows... literally. He was born with the ability to control them. He's mostly used it to make shadow creations when he's bored, or talk with his own shadow---who's pretty much his only friend. He doesn't know where th...
