Chapter Text
Eric presses down on the keys to finish the song he was playing. All of the old folk he’s playing for clap happily. He plays once a week for the nursing home in South Park and they absolutely love it when it’s time to hear him play. Eric can’t lie, he loves it too.
“Aaaalright,” Eric says, stretching out his arms and cracking his knuckles. “I think I’ve got one more song in me, what’ll it be?”
There is some chatter amongst his little audience, but one woman pipes up and says “Could you do something by the Carpenters? I used to love listening to my mother play their songs on the piano for me.”
Eric smiles. “Sure! I know lots of their songs. What should I play?”
“Do you know Close To You?” A man asks.
Eric nods. “Yup! I certainly do.” He says, turning his attention to his bag and carefully slipping the sheet music for November. On the Troika back into the plastic folder that some of his sheet music was in. He tended to bring older and more classical music, that was usually what the people here liked to listen to so it was what he brought in terms of sheet music.
Eric knew this song well so he didn’t need the sheet for Close To You. Eric leans over the piano again, readying his fingers to play. He silently thanks the gods that they didn’t ask for anything too challenging, his hands can’t take it after today since things were moved around for just this week and this and practice happened to land on the same day! Lots and lots of piano for him.
Suddenly, a voice pipes up. “Are you much of a singer, Eric?”
Eric’s head shoots up in surprise. “Oh! Well, I suppose haha. Why? Did you want me to sing?” He asks, half joking.
Nods and words of agreement and lots of “Ooh, yes please!”’s and lots of “That would be lovely”’s seep out of the crowd and feed into a little bubble of nerves in Eric’s heart, but he suppresses them.
“Ah, I don’t know. I haven’t warmed up my voice today…” Eric says.
“Oh, please, Eric!” One woman he knows, Mrs. Patterson, says. “We’ve never heard you sing before, I’m sure it’s absolutely marvellous!”
Eric smiles sheepishly. “Well… Oh, alright then. But don’t blame me if it’s bad, haha.” He says, readying himself once again.
Playing the opening notes is no challenge, and then, Eric starts to build the melody.
“ ♪ Why do birds suddenly appear, every time, you are near? ♪ ” He sings.
“ ♪ Just like me, they long to be… close to you. ♪ ”Eric cringes at the slight scratchiness of his voice, but carries on nonetheless, playing the song along with the lyrics.
“ ♪ Why do stars fall down from the sky, every time, you walk by? ♪ ” Eric blinks and it’s all there again, his scenery, but this time, his small audience hasn’t disappeared and he’s in a field full of pink and white and yellow flowers, playing on a beautiful white grand piano. Eric’s heart is becoming all fluttery again. He smiles, feeling almost effervescent.
“ ♪ Just like me, they long to be… close to you. ♪ ” He sings, the vast blue landscape above him feeling clearer than ever.
“ ♪ On the day that you were born, the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true! ♪ ” Some of the audience members begin to sing alongside him. Eric can almost see somebody in the distance, the long grass swishing around their calves, their fiery red hair glowing in the gentle summer breeze.
“ ♪ So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold, and starlight in your eyes of blue! ♪ ” Eric couldn’t quite recognise the person, though he felt as if he had known them his entire life despite not even seeing their face…
“ ♪ That is why… all the girls in town, follow you, all around. ♪ ” They were just an illusion of his own mind, just like this whole field and this breeze to encourage him while he plays, to engage him in the moment, but this person feels so familiar and so real, it’s insane. It’s a little scary if he’s honest.
“ ♪ Just like me, they long to be… close to you. ♪ ” He sings. Though suddenly, as soon as he blinks, it’s gone. It’s all gone. His heaven, the scenery, it’s all gone and he’s back in the nursing home, almost as if acknowledging that it was all just his imagination made it disappear. Luckily, muscle memory keeps him going on the song but that throws him way off track. He’ll confront this later, but right now the show must go on.
Again, it must be his lucky day because the instrumental part has come just in time to save his ass. Eric tries to get back into the groove of things, at least to put on a show for the people sitting next to him and singing along. His playing is a little off timing and he feels a little frazzled but he’s doing alright. The scenery should come back. It should come back. But it doesn’t.
“ ♪ On the day that you were born, the angels got together, and decided to create a dream come true. ♪ ” Eric sings. Luckily again, his wobbly voice is disguised by the audience singing along, completely oblivious to his inward panic, and if he looks like he’s having a good time, then he is.
“ ♪ So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold, and starlight in your eyes of blue! ♪ ” Everybody sings.
“ ♪ That is why… all the girls in town, follow you, all around. ♪ ” Eric gains control of his voice again but is not upping the volume. He can’t risk it. His internal problem is starting to really concern him. It’s not coming back. Why is the scenery not coming back? It doesn’t make any sense.
“ ♪ Just like me, they long to be… close to you. ♪ ”
“ ♪ Just like me, they long to be… ♪ ” The rest of the people in the room go quiet to let Eric finish the line. Damn it.
“ ♪ Close to you. ♪ ” Eric sings, thanking god he’s able to sound normal right now. He really regrets agreeing to sing.
“ ♪ Ahhh, ahhh. Close to you. ♪ ” Everyone joins in again, letting Eric calm down a bit, he really wants to get home right now, it’s been a long day.
“ ♪ Ahhh, ahhh. Close to you. ♪ ”
“ ♪ Ahhh, ahhh. Close to you. ♪ ”
“ ♪ Ahhh, ahhh… ♪ ”
“ ♪ Close to you. ♪ ” They all finish. Eric breathes out a small sigh of relief as the applause of all the old folks and even some of the staff and nurses echo around the room. Eric stands up to take a bow and then begins getting his things together as the buzz in the room dies down slowly.
Eric slings his black messenger bag over his shoulder, says goodbye to a few of his favourite people here and then he’s out of the door.
He waits by the bus stop for his mom to pick him up, it feels like she’s taking forever and he can’t get what happened off his mind… his scenery dissolved as soon as he thought too hard about it. There was a burning question in his mind, and when he gets home he needs to play a song. He has to figure this out before his piano grading the following week. Eric’s heart flutters, this time in the bad way and he starts to get butterflies that make him feel sick. If he can’t get his scenery back, then he can’t play properly. The scenery distracts his from overthinking what he’s actually doing, it helps let his muscle memory do it for him. But without it, he’ll be hyper focused on the keys, the sheet music and the pedals. It sounds like a good thing, but it only makes him play worse! He needs his scenery, the birds, the sky, the grass and the breeze, he needs them to focus!
Just then, his mom pulls up. Eric opens the passenger door and sits down. “Hi, mom.” He says, trying to mask the fact that he’s totally freaking out right now.
“Hi, sweetie! How was it?” Liane asks.
Eric smiles. “Good, I guess. They all asked me to sing while playing and then they all joined in!”
Liane gasps. “Oh my goodness! That’s so great hon. Did they enjoy it?”
Eric nods. “Yup.”
The drive home would usually be normal, but Eric can’t get this off his mind. He needs his scenery but it’s not like he can talk to anyone about this. As far as he knows, no other pianist experiences anything like this. It’s scary having something he relies on so much disappear on him, and the worst part? He has no idea how to fix it!
“Eric, hon, we’re home.” Liane says, getting out of the car. Eric gets out with her and enters the hotdog. He honestly hates living here. It’s small and cramped and cold and it takes forever to get to school. At least he has his own room, that’s one good thing.
Eric enters his room and pulls out his notebook from the top draw in his nightstand, flipping through all of the sketches and the handwritten sheet music and the sparse diary entries to the next blank page. Eric narrows his eyes at the white sheet of tree before he grabs a pen from the same draw and starts writing.
Eric decides to start listing down the reasons as to maybe why his scenery disappeared. He acknowledged that it was all in his head, maybe that was it? He would get so lost in it and it’s beautiful views that he never thought about it too hard. So what then? If he ever admitted it was fantasy, questioned its legitimacy it disappeared? That’s not fair!
And then, it hits him. That stupid ginger that appeared in the distance! He’s never seen them before, they must be the cause! As soon as Eric saw them, everything got fucked, it’s all their fault! Eric gripped his pen hard as he creates a frustrated doodle of what he remembers them looking like and hastily scrawled pages worth of angry ranting notes next to it, scribbles of how he hated them for showing up, how dare they do that to him?!
But then as he calms down, Eric slowly acknowledges that this person looks suspiciously similar to a certain jew… no, it couldn’t be, could it?
But it is. Eric knows it. There’s nobody else that fit that description. The curly, fiery red hair, green and yellow striped shirt, height, posture, everything. There’s no one else he knew who looked like that.
Eric clenched his fists, his heart pounding.
Why did this truth have to follow him into his symphony?
Eric’s head spun and his cheeks burned. Kyle always slipped through the cracks, in everything he ever did he always managed to weasel his way into Eric’s thoughts, that slimy Jew. And now, he’d made his way into Eric’s life as a pianist, managed to show himself in even this.
What a jerk. What a stupid, Jewish, ginger, jersey… Argh!
Eric couldn’t believe himself. This idiotic crush, obsession, had been driving him insane for years now! Why couldn’t he just get over himself and push his feelings away?? Why couldn’t he be stronger?
Eric frowned and turned his head, gazing at his keyboard propped up on its stand against the wall.
Eric groaned and banged his head down on the desk, he needed to fix this before it ruined his whole life.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Kyle asked, cocking his head at Eric as the latter stared down at the sidewalk. “You sounded pretty stressed on the phone.”
Eric snapped his head towards Kyle, astounded that he could tell from his voice alone. “What? No I didn’t! You’re making shit up.”
Kyle rolled his eyes and smiled slightly. “Stop gaslighting me, Cartman. What is it anyway?”
Eric frowns, not realising he is until Kyle gives him a puzzled look. “Uhh. I-It’s not bad, but…”
Kyle raised an eyebrow. “Look, if you want video game tips, then—“
“No, Kyle! That’s not…” Eric trailed off.
Kyle nods his head, as if to say Go on.
Eric sighs. “O-Okay. This is going to sound stupid, but, when I play piano I see… a place.”
“A… place? Cartman what—“
“Just listen to me!” Eric interrupts frustrated.
Kyle pauses and then nods, trying to hear him out Eric guesses.
“I see a place. It’s just my imagination, I know, but when I play I see such vivid scenery. Sky, clouds, birds, grass, sea, anything. It helps me… focus.” Eric says.
“It makes me relax and helps me not overthink what I’m doing, to let muscle memory take over. It’s all so clear, like I’m in a different place. I-I’m not, but—“
“Why are you telling me this?” Kyle asks suddenly.
Eric frowns, dreading having to say this.
“L-Look. I was playing for the nursing home yesterday, and my scenery appeared like it always does. I saw grass and flowers and I was playing on a white grand piano.” He recounts. Kyle listens patiently.
“But something was different about this time. There was a person.” Eric says reluctantly. “A person that looked like… well, you.”
Kyle blinks in surprise. “Me?” He points to himself.
Eric sighs exasperated. “Yes, you! Are you deaf?? I saw you in my scenery and as soon as I asked myself who it was and tried to look further into it, it all disappeared. I could see the room I was in again, I was conscious of what I was playing again and— and—“
“Cartman, calm down.” Kyle says.
Eric looks at him.
“Why is this such a big deal?” He asks.
Eric’s heart sinks. “You don’t understand— I need this scenery, Kyle! I-I need it and you— you’re the one who was there when it disappeared, it must’ve been you!”
Kyle reels back and gives him a slightly offended expression.
“I need it back, Kyle! I need it! I cant play any good without it, I have to get it back and you’re the key, I bet. I have a piano grading coming up, a-and I cant fail, I…” Eric trails off.
“…can’t fail.”
Kyle frowns and thinks for a moment, this sudden moment of vulnerability hitting him the face like a ton of bricks.
“You won’t fail.”
“Yes I will! I am nothing without that scenery. I need it.” Eric says, his voice high and eyes glossy.
“I don’t know what to do…” Eric speaks, almost a whisper. Desperately clinging to any hope, to the point where he’s confiding in his own worst enemy.
Kyle thinks some more.
“Maybe the manifestation of me is something… maybe, something you’re holding back?” Kyle suggests. Eric looks up in confusion.
“Like, something you’re trying not to think about. Similar to how when you have a nightmare about, let’s say, being chased it could mean you’re avoiding confronting something difficult.”
Eric considers.
“Maybe?” Eric says, knowing full well what that thing was.
Kyle looks at him with oblivious emerald eyes. “Is there anything like that with you?”
Eric’s brow furrowed, he didn’t want to say it. His lip trembled, he didn’t want to say it. His eyes watered, admitting it would make it real, and he didn’t want this to be real.
“Cartman?” Kyle asks.
It all built up inside of him, and Eric let out a small whimper and then a choked sob.
Kyle flinches as Eric leans over his leg and cries.
“C-Cartman! What…?”
Eric sobs violently into Kyle’s jeans. “I’m sorry… I—“
“…I like you.” He cries out, looking up into his eyes.
Kyle reels backwards in shock, all words escaping him in this moment.
Eric feels so stupid, of course he had to go and say it. Now everything is going to change.
Everything is going to change.
Eric buries his head in Kyle’s leg again, not being able to bare looking at him anymore, fearing if he does he will see the disgust, pity, horror, whatever Kyle’s expression is he doesn’t want to know. Eric just cries and savours the contact and the feeling of being close to him before it turns into a blocked phone number and a dirty look in the hallway.
But instead of Kyle jolting up and walking away or him shoving Eric off, he feels a hand slowly combing through his hair, a gentle shushing from… no, it can’t be.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”
“Wh… What?” Eric mumbles, looking up to meet the redheads gaze.
Kyle cups his cheek and smiles gently. “I like you too, dumbass.”
Eric’s heart soars as his eyes well up with liquid joy, a gasp escaping his lips and all of a sudden he’s back. The clouds, the sky, the doves. It’s all here.
They’re here, on a bench in the sky. Eric knows Kyle can’t see it, but it’s here, a beautiful soaring melody as their soundtrack.
He was right. Eric couldn’t confront his feelings, but as soon as he did, everything reappeared, just as he’d left it. Clouds swirled around the deep blue ocean above as the doves flew by and briefly obscured the sun. A gentle summer breeze wafted by, playing with Kyle’s curls.
He looks just like them. Eric could finally see it.
He could finally understand. Years of Kyle living in oblivion, Eric living in, well, the friendzone, and now it all came to a head. All of the buildup was worth it, and Eric feels as if he is floating.
The dirty looks, the blocked numbers, they weren’t real! Eric had trapped himself in the worst case scenario by not believing anything good could ever come out of this because, well, he never expected this to happen. Everything that could’ve gone wrong would be flipped on it’s head and be replaced with their opposites. He guesses they really do attract.
Eric throws himself forward, hugging Kyle as hard as he can and releasing all of his emotions at once. He cries tears of joy and smiles until his cheeks hurt, finally letting go of a truth only 7 years old.
The birds chirped sweetly at the song of a new day, hopping around all chipper on a delicate branch. Eric exits his moms car and smiles at the small building in front of him. It was no concert hall, but it did the trick. He said goodbye to his mom and she wished him luck before driving off.
Mrs. Bailey peers out of the doorway, and as she sees Eric she ushers him inside.
Eric enters and greets Kyle, who had been waiting for him in the hallway of the small building. They exchange hello’s and big hugs as Mrs. Bailey offers her good luck to Eric and then walks them into the music room.
The duo sit down together and lock hands between the chairs resting against the wall of the small practice room where the grading was taking place. It’s usually a lively and encouraging room, today is no different except for the air of nerves. Chairs lined the back wall all filled with nervous grade 7 (soon to be 8 hopefully) piano students, a door on the left, a sleek, black, grand piano that he was going to be playing soon in the centre, slightly near the far back wall. A violin case rested against the wall, a few chairs in stacks in a nook of the right wall and pages and pages of sheet music books all in a bookcase next to them.
Eric smiles to himself as the first student steps up and starts playing Moonlight Sonata’s third movement. Listening was no problem as Eric quite enjoyed Moonlight Sonata, a classic.
Eric glances across the room at Tweek who gives him a small smile. Eric returns it as the first performance concludes, just a swiftly as it began.
One student after the other, all with perfect timing, perfect movements, fingering, everything. They were all so amazing, and Eric can’t help but let doubt creep in as he often did before performing as Intermezzo in A changes the mood of the room. What if he’s not good enough? What if he slips up? Everything could go wrong as time is steadily approaching his turn, but as soon as Mrs. Bailey calls his name, his heart pounds to the beat of those same words. His voice, and all of those things he’s told him before…
“You can do this.”
“You’re capable of so much more than you think.”
“You know what you’re doing, you’ve practiced this a million times before.”
“It’s okay.”
“I believe in you.”
Eric glances back at Tweek, then at Mrs. Bailey, then at Kyle.
He smiles, sitting down at the piano and resting his hands lightly on the keys, preparing to play Arabesque No. 1 in E. by Claude Debussy.
Of course he’s still nervous, but the eyes on the back of his head are for once not so judgemental, more anticipating the music he’s about to recite. Eric hopes to create instead one day. Everybody’s eyes are on him, all of the pressure, Eric’s anxiety builds and builds until suddenly, it eases up, and allows him to finally feel comfortable in this chair. All he needs is to let go of his worries and to flow with the music once he begins playing it, he tells himself. It’s not easy, but he’s going to do it. He’s going to move to Grade 8 and beyond no matter what.
He will not fail.
Eric takes a breath, steadies himself, presses the first notes and for possibly the millionth time, his scenery reappears and he feels true freedom.
Eric doesn’t know how people live without this feeling, he’ll never understand it.
And even though the song’s only just started, his story is only just beginning, Eric knows in his very core that it’s going to be a happy ending.