Chapter Text
I’m absolutely ecstatic when I run into Monty’s room, that sunny afternoon in the middle of summer break. Monty’s lying on his bed, earphones in, and he starts when I enter.
“You are not going to believe this,” I say. Then I have to repeat myself because he couldn’t hear me.
Monty sits up. “What happened?”
I sit down in front of him, taking him by the shoulders. I’m biting my lip in excitement. “I…” I pause for fullest effect. “... I got my powers!”
Monty’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious? When?”
“Just now!” I can barely sit still. “I was just practicing my violin and… There they were!”
“Whoa.” He blinks. “That’s… That’s great, Perce.”
I falter. He doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about this as he should be. We’ve both been waiting for our powers for so long, speculating about what they could be. We’ve spent sleepovers staying up until the early hours looking over the databases of known abilities, trying to figure out what would suit us best. “Are you… not happy for me?”
“What? Of course I am.” He laughs nervously. “I’m just, uh…”
“Sad you don’t have yours yet?”
He stares at me for a bit too long. Then he hugs himself, casting down his eyes. “Yeah. It’s that.”
“Ah. Sorry. But you’ll get yours soon! I’m sure of it. The general rule is between eleven and thirteen, and your thirteenth birthday is coming up soon. So!”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Then, he lightens up. “So, what powers did you get? Anything we predicted?”
“Sort of? I… Wait. Let me show you.” I look around, trying to figure out how I could demonstrate best, then spot Monty’s earbuds, still playing music. “Okay. So. I don’t fully have the hang of it, yet, but–”
Monty rolls his eyes with a smile. “Just show me.”
“Okay.” I can’t help the grin spreading across my face as I rub my hands together. I focus on the faint music coming out of the earbuds. I recognize the song. It’s one of Monty’s favorites but that I never really liked. I’ve always thought it was too sad. Still, I focus on the words and the melody, on its slow rhythm, like a heartbeat fading, until it fills up my being. I can feel the music coursing through my veins, echoing through my bones.
“ Whoa .”
I open my eyes to find Monty gaping at me. The music is around us now, curling through the air, dancing as I conduct it. When the song is close to ending, I play it back until the last chorus.
I smile. “Pretty cool, right?”
“Perce, that’s amazing . What else can you do with it?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, lowering the music’s volume so I can talk over it. “I’ve only had this ability for a good…” I check the time on his phone. “Two hours.”
“Wow. Do you…” He hesitates. “Is it like your dad’s powers?”
“I’m not sure. My father could create music out of thin air. Doesn’t seem like I can do that.”
“Maybe you could still learn it?”
“Eh, I dunno. Don’t they always say that when a child inherits a relative’s power, it’s never exactly the same? And that’s fine by me, you know.” I smile shyly. “I’m already really happy I got something similar.”
“What does your mom say?”
“I haven’t told her yet.”
Monty raises an eyebrow. “You got your powers and immediately came over here?”
“Well, duh. You’re my best friend.”
He looks surprised at that, but hides it quickly. “Damn straight. Now, you and I are going to spend the entire afternoon figuring out your powers.”
I laugh. “Okay, but we’ll need some better music for that.” I grab his phone and unlock it, but stop when I see the playlist he’d been listening to. Monty realizes his error too late. I stare at the screen for a long time. “Monty… Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, why?” he asks flippantly.
I show him the phone. “This is your I’m feeling like shit playlist.”
He looks caught. “So?”
I frown at him, pausing the music and reaching to put his phone aside on his nightstand. I accidentally knock something over and rush to keep it from falling and put it back. Only then I realize.
It’s make-up.
I look back at Monty, slowly. He’s biting his lip, looking uneasy, but he stays defiant. “What?” he says, probably more snappishly than he meant it.
“Are you hurt?”
“Hm? Oh.” He does a very poor imitation of suddenly realizing what I mean. “That’s nothing, I just… tripped and fell earlier.”
My heart sinks.
When Monty claims that he’s had a little accident, I know that’s not the full truth, and he knows that I know it. But neither of us ever acknowledges it.
“Did you, uh.” I press my lips together. “Did you put ice on it?”
“... I forgot.”
“Okay. Um. I’ll… go get some right now?”
“Oh, no, it’s fine, don’t worry.” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It… It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“... If you’re sure.”
“Yes. Now!” His tone shifts so quickly it almost gives me whiplash. He points at me. “You haven’t shown me your Mark yet.”
“Oh. Right.” I try to go along with the change of subject, but Monty’s always been so much better at this pretending than I am. I move closer to him again, then lift both my hands, palms toward him. “They start at the callouses I’ve got from playing the violin. Look.”
I make them glow up. Across all ten of my fingers, graceful staves curl, starting on the inside of my palm and curling toward my fingertips, ending around my knuckles. Tiny little notes dot the lines, all in a soft deep blue.
Monty looks at it in wonder. He reaches out two fingers to trail the lines on my palm as they slowly go out. “That’s beautiful,” he says. I shrug bashfully. “Anyway. You and me, we got some power testing to do.”
My smile falls. “Actually, I… I’m kinda worn out. Is it okay if I come back tomorrow for that?”
“Oh. Sure.” His voice is suddenly small. “See you tomorrow, then?”
“Wh– I’m not leaving .” I laugh, and he looks relieved. “I was thinking of watching a movie on that ridiculously big screen of yours until my mom gets home from work. Move over.”
We settle down next to each other, propping up the pillows until we’re comfortable and then wasting another half hour bickering over what we’re going to watch. It gets late and I quickly shoot my mom a text to tell her where I am. By the time the credits roll, Monty’s head has fallen to my shoulder, his eyes barely open. I turn off the TV.
“Mmm. You heading home?” he asks, voice weary.
“In a bit.”
Monty hums, and his eyes slide all the way shut. I curl one arm around his back and watch as his breathing slows down to the deep rhythm of sleep.
He looks so small. A bit of the make-up he used is rubbing off against my shirt, and I catch a glimpse of a darker spot on his temple.
I bite my lip.
I’ve known how Monty gets these for a little less than a year now, and it’s been our secret. He made me swear not to tell anyone. I’ve thought of a million ways to get him help, but none of them were ever realistic. Quite a few of them involved my hypothetical powers, when I’d get them. For just a second, I’m bitter. All the abilities in the universe that could’ve saved Monty, and I got music manipulation .
Then I immediately feel bad, because I’m so grateful for my powers.
But still.
Not quite knowing why, I start humming a song. It’s a lullaby my mom used to sing for me when I was little—she still sings it for me if I’m having a particularly bad day, if I’m being honest. It’s quiet, with low, soft tones, and whenever I hear it, just for a moment, I feel like nothing in the world could ever harm me.
I’m not sure Monty feels the same. I’m not even sure he’s awake anymore. But it’s all I can do.
While it gets dark outside, and I’m making my way through the final part of the song, something curious happens. My Marks light up, without my intention to, lines curling over both my hands. I watch the faint blue light grow stronger, then shift—first to a deep indigo, then to purple.
Then, they fade out again.
After having—microwaved, because I was very late—dinner, I tell my mom about my powers. First she’s surprised, then happy for me—though I don’t miss the tears in her voice. As we sit on the couch and I show her my Marks, she smiles.
“His were here,” she says, drawing a circle down my palm with her index and moving it down to the inside of my wrist. “And they weren’t staves, exactly. They were loose music notes tangled together, held by a treble clef. Here. And they were green.” Her hand falters. “I’m sorry. This is a big day to you and I’m just comparing your powers to…”
“It’s fine, Mom,” I say sincerely. “You think my father wasn’t the first thing I thought of when my Mark glowed up for the first time?”
She smiles. “He’d be so happy. But that doesn’t matter.” She looks me in the eye. “Are you happy with your powers?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”
She squeezes my hand. “I’m glad.”
“Although…” It’s left me before I can stop myself, that doubt that snuck up on me while I was watching Monty fall asleep. “No. Sorry. It’s nothing.”
My mother looks at me in concern. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s just that, um.” I chew my bottom lip. “Something odd happened? Earlier. I’m not really sure what to think of it.”
She nods, encouraging me to go on.
“While I was with Monty, my… my Marks glowed up, out of nowhere. And they changed color.” I make them glow again. “They were blue, initially.”
“Oh.” She blinks at me a few times. “That’s… That’s interesting.”
“Is that bad?”
“What? Oh, no, no, no. Don’t worry. It’s just that…” She sits up and takes a deep breath. “When a power first manifests, it’s soft, and kneadable, like clay. The older you get, the less flexible it becomes. In the very beginning, abilities can shift a little, if sufficient cause arises.”
I freeze up. “Did I… Did I mess them up?”
“Of course you didn’t. But did you notice any change? Between now and earlier?”
I focus on the music coming from the radio, letting the melodies flow through me. Then I redirect it through the room. “I don’t think so?”
“Hmm. Well, it’s always a search in the beginning.” She smiles at me. “You’ve got plenty of time to figure it out. And I’ll do what I can to help you.”
I let the music go and sit back down, leaning against my mom. “Thanks, Mom.”
She kisses my forehead. “Anytime, dear. But now, to bed. It’s late.”
In bed, in the dark, I make my Marks glow up again, watching the curious purple color curl over my hands. It’s perfectly silent in my room, but when I hold them next to my ear, I can faintly hear an echo of the lullaby I sang to Monty earlier.
For some reason, I keep thinking back to his face when I told him I got my powers.