I cannot begin to count the minutes that passed since I started staring at the book I am holding. It's been a while, my love. My mind is once again talking to her - the shadow of the past I so fervently tried to leave behind. This battle has been interminable, often unabated.
Come to me, love.
Rest a while in my arms
Place all weariness aside
Speak to me, love.
Tell me the beauty of the world
Let me see it from your eyes
Sing to me, love.
With the nightingale's voices
Soft, earnest, and pure
Love me, my love
And if my life ends today
Know that my love stays
It's been months since Euri wrote this for me, but up until now, I cannot accept the fact that she said goodbye to me through a poem. Every time I read this, I never fail to go back to that time. It's as if I am being transported. I touched each letter that she wrote, and as I let my fingers run through these strokes, I hear music speaking softly to my ears. The sound it creates resembles her voice, her laughter, her squeals, her whole being. With the fear of having to erase all those markings of black pen, I folded the letter back and inserted it in the middle of the book.
Orpheus. I read the book where I inserted the letter. Orpheus. His sad tale of lost love and his failed attempt to win her back. All because he turned his head to the sound of her voice. What an irony! This is what I thought.
Is it not because he wanted to be with her - that includes all of her: body, heart, soul... her voice - that he was willing to go to the underworld just to ask Hades to give her back, only to see his hope crumbling in front of him just because he allowed himself to be engulfed by that reverberating sound of her voice? What an unfortunate soul!
I placed my mind back to where I am because I just felt someone is looking. I can't even explain if what I feel is a stare - this word comes off a little bit weak when compared to the intensity of his gaze. His admiration for me is quite evident. Modesty aside, this hasn't been new to me. There were a lot of times that I received the same kind of look from women, men, and all. I don't fancy this though. It's become an added weight to carry. I never wanted attention: something that comes off as the last in my mind. His stare though brings me a little feeling of fascination. I'm wondering what's his impression of me. I let him scan my being for quite a while until I felt him move an inch closer, and then his voice traveled through my ears: "Hi! I have been looking at you while you read."
Wow! Impressive. He has the guts.
"And?" This is probably the coldest tone I can muster.
"Mythology. My favorite!" His tone is too excited. I can't even begin to describe how he's like someone who just got a million bucks on his account.
I am not saying a word. I keep on telling myself even though I am close to starting a conversation with him. He has this scintillating aura that when one sees, would have probably been drawn to it.
When he probably noticed that I wasn't really interested in talking to him, he moved an inch closer. I am panicking. I don't think I've ever been this close to anyone for the past six months. I always wanted to be alone, feeling all the pain of what happened to me. So without any thoughts, I said: "Stop. Just stop."
And I stormed my way out of the space that he and I shared. My body has one goal: retreat.
- the day after -
7:00 in the morning
I place my hand on the side table as I allow it to feel my phone. I need to check my messages. There's quite a number of commitments I have to attend to today. As a sound engineer, I often don't need to report on a regular basis. This is the benefit I get from an on-call type of a job. Synth is probably the leading company in the country that provides music services for all of its clients.
Today is quite a big day. There's been this film outfit who commissioned Synth to produce the Foley (sound effects) for their latest film, and just like what Renz, our manager, has instructed the whole team: we need to at least finish the job by today. I recalled how our conversation turned two days ago.
"Why did you say yes to that request, Renz? What do you want us to do then? Create Foleys out of magic?" I told Renz in disbelief. He said yes to the client who requested for us to produce the sound effects for their film.
"The opportunity is perfect, Bright! This is a big film outfit. Your work will definitely be taken into the mainstream!" Renz sounded so excited as he mentioned those words.
"That wasn't what I wanted! You know very well that I don't like the attention." I answered him with the opposite amount of excitement he has. Renz and I have been friends for eternity. This is why I can express anything to him freely without any regard for his position. I don't do this in front of others though, cause I want him to still be respected by the whole team.
I continued putting sense into him, "It's just too soon. We can't even produce one sound in a day, and now they're asking us to produce three?" I grew my eyes bigger to emphasize the exaggeration. "I need more people on the team. Ask Lara to hire at least two people to work with us."
"But --," Renz was about to reason out but I interrupted him. "No more buts. That's my condition. Take it or leave it." I said with full conviction.
Renz nodded as a sign of surrender.
As I recall our conversation, my head starts to ache, too, thinking about how to manage my time well. I immediately stand up from my bed and grab my towel to hit the showers.
"Shot through the heart, and you're to blame! You give love a bad name!"
My feet stopped itself from walking towards the door when it heard that voice. He's singing out of tune, but with so much intensity. His voice is laced with that morning rasp - the sound when you force yourself to sing just after you open your eyes. It is funny though. The voice is so loud that it traversed through the glass door of my balcony.
My unit has a balcony and just like how other condominium units are designed, it is kind of adjacent to another balcony, which means, if I happen to want to stay in it and the other person from the next room will do the same, to see each other would be inevitable.
"You put me to heaven. You put me through hell." The voice keeps singing. I couldn't help myself from checking who owns that maddening tone. As I am now moving the glass door, I can hear his voice getting louder and louder - getting more irksome by the minute. As I finally step my feet on the balcony, I am being welcomed by the chilly billowing wind. His back is facing me. So, I've decided to use my voice to get his attention.
"Hey!" Making my voice louder is a little bit difficult because he definitely would want himself to be heard with his blaring singing voice.
No reply.
"Hey!" Now that volume is thundering.
He turns his body around, and I am a little bit surprised by who owns that disturbing voice. It is him. The same man who approached me yesterday.
"Oh my, Lord!" He says.
I burst out laughing with his reaction.
YOU ARE READING
Orpheus
FanfictionSix months after the death of his girlfriend, Bright met Win. Their encounter is the usual. But their love story is not. Can someone teach you how to move on from the pain of the past?
