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I very much appreciated my alone time. In my sanctuary, all by myself, with just a piano to keep me company. The radio had long since been turned off. My foot tapped the tempo against the weathered wooden ground, my fingers gracefully dancing upon the keys. I let my mind wander off. No longer did I need to worry about the stress of hard work, or impossible deadlines, or annoying coworkers. This was my place to just be me . I was alone, and I was happy.
I hummed a tune to myself, syncing it up with the music I played. I never was very strong on lyrics, but I could hold a melody like no one else. My voice was admittedly subpar, though. I accepted that long ago. Except, a beautiful singing voice isn’t the only thing the world needs; there’s been too much of that lately. It needs a compelling melody, one that will draw you in despite the voice. A foundation that other, more talented people can build off of. Being tone wise is a skill many people underappreciate, seeing as it is the driving force of our existence. What would humanity be without music? Simply a shell. A boring, empty, tuneless shell. People refuse to recognize it, but music is the glue that holds our modern society together. It brings light to our otherwise bleak lives. It fills the void that our existence has cursed upon us. It’s one of the only things I can find joy in nowadays, while I’m stuck cramped up in this stuffy, leaky studio. That’s why, even though I hate this job, I still continue to work here. People need to hear a melody, and I will be the one to provide it. Even if it kills me.
I shook my head, snapping myself out of my rampant thoughts. My fingers had paused their priceless dance, my vocal chords stopping in my throat. Something felt… off. Very, very off. Like I wasn’t alone.
My hands shook, but I forced myself to continue to play. I couldn’t be seen slacking off; I had to look like I was doing something. My finger slipped, landing on the wrong key. I drew my hand back on instinct as the sour note echoed throughout the room.
Play, I commanded myself. And play well, damnit!
I placed my fingers upon the keys again, starting off with a slower, calmer melody. I sighed as the beautiful music filled my senses–
Wait. I didn’t sigh, I realized, pulling my hands away again. The pit of anxiety grew deeper in my chest. If I didn’t sigh, then who did?
I stood up sharply, my stool flying out from behind me. My eyes flew around the room, trying to catch whoever dared to intrude on my personal time. No matter how hard I looked, though, there wasn’t a trace of anyone. I was still completely alone.
I sighed in dismay, accepting the fact that I was probably just hallucinating. Again. Really, I should look into getting that checked out, I thought, letting my head fall against the wall connecting to the band room. And, there it was. A yelp of surprise, from right in front of me. Of course, I scolded myself. They were outside the room, listening in. Someone didn’t follow my orders to stay out of the band room, and now they were going to pay .
Rage bristled upon the back of my neck as I marched towards the entrance. I pulled the lever, the gate creaking loudly as it rolled away. I peaked around the corner as fast as I could, praying that whoever was spying on me didn’t have enough time to run away.
To my surprise, the stalker was still standing there, eyes wide with shock. He seemed to be frozen in place, our gazes locking as soon as I set my sights upon his face. I narrowed my eyes as I bristled in anger, recognizing who it was immediately.
“Norman?” I asked incredulously. He unfroze as soon as I spoke, responding with a nervous laugh.
“Haha! Uh, hey, Lawrence! Just came to check up on you, see how… the project was going along, yeah? No other reason! We’re all good, right?” he said, raising his hand to his neck. He had a shaky and frankly unconvincing smile upon his chiseled face.
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. I wanted to be angry with him, I really did, but I couldn’t find it within myself for the anger to stick. I resigned with a defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“If you wanted to listen to me play, you could’ve just asked,” I conceded, letting my hands drop back to my sides.
I forced my heart to not swell as his eyes lit up with joy. He put a little pep in his step as he advanced towards me. “Really? You wouldn’t mind that?”
“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” I said with a shrug. “Just… be quiet, please. You’re giving me a headache.”
He nodded eagerly, miming closing a zipper on his mouth. He threw away the imaginary key with a wink. Before I could stop myself, I smiled. I actually smiled .
I quickly turned around, praying he didn’t notice. But, by the way he inhaled, almost like a gasp, I knew there was no hiding it. I accepted my fate as I made my way over to the banjo in the corner. The only thing I could wish for was that he never brought it up again.
“Hold on a moment,” he protested. I paused in my tracks, glancing back at him as I silently urged him to continue. “Could we maybe, I dunno… go into your secret little room? For the piano.”
I pursed my lips together, running my fingers through my hair. “It’s messy in there. I doubt you’d enjoy it much.”
I could almost hear his pout as he protested. “I don’t mind! Have you seen the state of my projector booth?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” I said with a roll of my eyes, even if he could barely see it. I turned to face him yet again, returning my arms to the comfortable cross in front of my chest.
“Please, Mista’ Lawrence,” he pleaded. “Is it so bad to want to see my coworker in his natural habitat?”
I wrinkled my nose at that, growing more and more agitated by the moment. “What did I say about keeping your mouth shut?” I could see the regret flash upon his face, giving me a sense of fulfillment. I wasn’t entirely a monster, though. I beckoned him forward, walking towards my sanctuary without waiting for him to follow. “You’re lucky I’m bored.”
He caught up with me with vigor, nearly prancing behind me. I bit back a scoff at his childish habit.
I pushed a stray ukulele out of the way as I walked through the entrance, making sure he didn’t step on it. Despite his mundane job, he had quite a strong build, so I didn’t want him to accidentally destroy one of my priceless instruments that I left lying on the ground.
“Again, pardon the mess. I typically don’t have time to worry about cleaning,” I sighed, picking up a violin bow that had fallen over.
“I could always come in and clean up for ya,” Norman offered, running his hand along the dust-coated wall.
I glanced back at him, cocking my head to the side. “Last I checked, you were a projectionist, not a janitor.”
He grinned at that. My words were harsh, yes. In general, I was harsh. But Norman always managed to see through that. He was able to notice the small details, the undertones, the way my eyebrows raised as the corner of my lip twitched. He never took anything to heart. He knew better.
I strutted over to the piano, letting myself rest upon the seat. My hands hovered over the keys, hesitating.
“Do you need somewhere to sit?” I asked, noticing how he was hovering at my side in a more-than-slightly-awkward way. He shook his head, raising a hand in dismissal.
“I’m good, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he assured me. I rolled my eyes, raising to my feet. I gently shoved the seat towards him, gesturing towards it. Norman reluctantly lowered himself onto it, immediately adjusting into a leaning position. I turned back to my piano, rolling up my sleeves. I stretched my arms with a huff.
I placed my fingers upon the keys again, but they froze. I couldn’t force them to play, no matter how hard I tried. “...I’m not exactly used to performing with an audience,” I admitted, face burning red with embarrassment.
“I could pretend I’m dead if you’d like,” he joked.
“I’m not too keen on performing with a corpse, either.”
I reveled in the laughter this drew from him. Typically, I wasn’t too keen on making jokes or engaging in comedy whatsoever. This resulted in gaining shocked responses from others whenever I did crack one myself.
“It’s alright, though,” I assured him. “I’ll… get there.”
I repositioned my hands, placing them upon my most familiar keys. Instead of ad-libbing a song like I usually do, I settled for a tune I was familiar with. One of my doodles that I kept recorded, hoping I would use it for a scene eventually. I never did, but at least it had some purpose.
I plucked out the first notes, my left hand moving on instinct. It was completely muscle memory at this point. My right hand started the melody, my nerves melted away as I let the music sweep me away. The room was dark, the only light being the flickering candle atop the table to my right. Playing music in the dark was one of my favorite activities. I could lose myself in the sound, in the feeling. My eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, my hands perfectly continuing the song without the need for sight. I gently tapped my foot against the ground to keep myself on tempo as I relaxed into the smooth rhythm.
The minutes burned by like a flash of lightning, my mind immersed into the beautiful tune I was creating. My body swayed to the beat, hands flying across the keyboard like they had been rehearsing this song for years. All thoughts of anyone or anything else had long since abandoned me. The only thing remaining was the music– my music.
My fingers held down on the final note for a little longer than intended before I finally drew away. I took a deep breath, letting myself adjust to reality yet again. I glanced over at Norman, expecting the worst.
I was very pleasantly surprised.
He was leaning forward at an exaggerated angle, eyes wide. His mouth hung open in shock as he sat completely still. He had an awestruck look in his eyes, a particular shine I had never seen from him before. I cocked my head to the side, keeping my gaze upon him. He still didn’t move.
“...Hello?” I asked, waving my hand in front of his face. “Anybody there?”
His eyes finally flicked up to meet mine as he uttered one singular word. “ Shit. ”
I leaned back, narrowing my eyes. “And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
He sprung up, sitting up straight with the most dazzled look on his face. “That was astounding! This is what you sneak in here every day to do?”
Something caught in my throat before I could respond. “...More or less, yes,” I managed to say.
Norman didn’t catch my hesitation, thankfully. He just clapped his hands with a laugh, his bushy eyebrows flying up his face. “You really are somethin’ else, Lawrence.”
My face heated up with a feeling unfamiliar to me. “You don’t have to keep calling me that. It’s too formal.”
“So you’re saying we ain’t formal? What are we, friends now?”
He was trying to tease me. He was trying to agitate me, to get a rise out of me. But I wasn’t going to let him. “I would say we are,” I said with a smirk, letting myself claim the upper hand.
Silence. Complete radio silence from him. I congratulated myself for finally outsmarting him. I reveled in my small victory as I turned back to my instrument.
“Have you ever played the piano?” I asked, shooting him a curious glance out of the corner of my eye. Norman seemed surprised that I asked him a personal question, but he obliged anyway.
“As a kid, yeah. Used my church’s piano whenever I could. That was 30 somethin’ years ago, though,” he sighed, sliding his chair to be closer to me.
I hummed in acknowledgement. I stood still as I thought through my options. My eyes lit up as I reached my hand out, grabbing Norman’s wrist. Before he could protest, I pulled him to his full height. I was admittedly taller than most everyone in the studio, but Norman still beat me by a few inches. I often found myself wondering what the world looked like in his eyes. It must be so different, considering our opposing perspectives on life.
“Hey- whaddya doin’?” he asked. I refused to answer, instead opting to drag him in front of the piano, placing his hand upon the keys.
“Play me something.”
Norman blanched, eyes flickering back and forth between the piano and I. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s not that difficult. It doesn’t have to be a cohesive song. Just press some keys for me.”
Norman let out a heavy sigh, rolling up his sleeves. He adjusted the jacket draping over his shoulders, resting his fingers on the keys. He experimentally pressed down on one, slightly lowering his head when he heard the note. I watched with fascination as he seemed to recognize something, moving his fingers into a more confident position.
“Here’s a classic,” he said, beginning his song. A soft smile grew on my face as he plucked out the tune to Mary Had a Little Lamb. It was shaky, had an uneven tempo, and he messed up on a few notes, but it was a good effort. Especially for someone who hadn’t played in decades.
“That was good,” I concluded. He looked at me with a raised brow.
“You sure, Mr. Mozart?” he chuckled. I shook my head in dismissal, letting out a sigh.
“Fine. Don’t expect another compliment from me,” I said, turning my back to him. I smirked as he let out complaint after complaint, all while I could hear the smile on his face. “Seriously, though,” I said. “You are… decent.”
I faced him again, staring directly into his rich eyes.
“Do you mean music-wise, or overall?” he challenged.
I picked at a stray string on my suspenders, my shoulders becoming heavy out of nowhere. “...Overall,” I said, barely able to keep my voice steady.
The two of us stood there for an uncomfortably long amount of time, just staring at each other. The air grew thick, my heart beginning to race faster and faster. His eyes traveled across my face, a strange curiosity attached to them. Like he was analyzing me. I watched as they slowly traveled down my face. They reached a certain point, but he inhaled, snapping his eyes back to stare into mine. My heart jumped in my chest. I had to tear my eyes away from his; I had to. I might’ve exploded on the spot if I looked at him any longer.
“Well!” I said, desperately searching for an excuse to end whatever was just going on. “I should get back to work on the, er… project. It was nice playing piano with you.”
Norman seemed too shocked to process what happened as I shooed him out the door. I was about ready to pull the lever before he snapped back to reality. I gripped the metal of the lever, but before I could yank it down, a larger calloused hand clasped over mine. My throat tightened as I stared up at the taller man. He seemed just as disturbed as I was. Even so, he gently slid my hand off the lever, keeping it encased in his.
“One more song?” he finally asked, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand.
I so badly wanted to agree. To give him a smile and a nod, to let him back into my world. My personal world that I’d kept secret for months, a world I’d never shown to anyone but him.
I took a sharp breath, taking my hand back from him. “I know what you’re doing. And this can’t happen,” I warned, keeping my voice low. “Do you know what the others would do if they found out?”
His gaze softened with an emotion I could only describe as hurt . “And what does it matter? Why should we care about what they think?”
Anger bristled in the back of my throat. “They’d hate us, Norman! For God’s sake, Joey would probably fire us on the spot!” My lip quivered, an uneasy feeling rising in the back of my throat.
Norman laughed. He wholeheartedly, honestly laughed. “Come on. You know Mr. Drew doesn’t discriminate like that. He wasn’t afraid to hire me! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if his prized musician had a few quirks of his own, eh?”
I could barely hear him by then, my heartbeat pounding loudly in my ears. “If- if word got out, I wouldn’t be able to show my face in public ever again- I can’t ruin my career- my life like that. Not for anyone! Not for you! ”
My chest shuddered with every breath. I felt an unbearable pressure weigh upon me, as if it was trying to drag me down to the pits of Hell. My breathing picked up as black spots began to appear in my vision. I couldn’t lose everything I had worked for. All the years I spent working and working—I couldn’t let it all go to waste just for a man. Could I?
I heard someone calling my name, but the only thing my ears could focus on was the overwhelming static filling my senses. I felt like I was collapsing into myself, or drowning in a pool of sticky ink. The black spots took over, the fuzzy static finally enveloping my being.
Then there was a light. A buzzing, glowing, overwhelming yellowed light. I brought my hand up to my face to shield my eyes. I looked off to my side, my vision finally clearing, only to see a familiar face staring back at me.
“Shit,” I gasped, shooting up. My back hit the wall, my head clanging against it next. I grimaced as I raised a hand to my scalp, but someone else’s beat me to it.
“Hey, hey, calm down,” came Norman’s soothing voice as he cradled the back of my head. “You’re okay. You just blacked out for a bit.”
My eyes shot wide open as the situation dawned on me. I yanked his hand away, pulling myself up into a proper sitting position. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” I found myself demanding. “Are you crazy?”
My heart sank into my stomach as his face melted into that of shame. Norman brought his hand back to his chest as he slumped away from me.
“Sorry if I misinterpreted somethin’,” he said in a slightly deeper voice than usual. “Just thought I’d shoot my shot. I can go now, if ya’d like me to. Just wanted to make sure you were okay first.”
There was that feeling again. The one from earlier, when he was staring at me. It had returned with full force. My previous anger and shock melted away, replaced by the pure bliss that came with his presence. I couldn’t find it in myself to think logically anymore. I leaned towards him, placing my hand on the edge of his face.
“Oh, don’t be sorry. You weren’t wrong,” I assured him. I felt a bit of pride in myself as he jolted, but rested his hand on mine nonetheless.
“I’m sorry for overreacting,” I admitted. I closed my eyes in shame. “God, I’ve never opened up to someone like this before.”
It was embarrassing, yet relieving at the same time. I wouldn’t mind doing it again.
Norman let out a breathless laugh, leaning into my palm. “I never thought me sneaking in to listen to you play would result in this.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ll get Wally to move the piano to the main room, so you can listen from your booth.”
There it was again. That look in his eyes, the one which burned into my retinas. If I could spend the rest of my life with him looking at me like that, I’d die a happy man.
I couldn’t stop myself. I had long since abandoned any restraint I once had. I accepted my fate, leaning in close to him. My eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. His gaze seemed to have the same amount of longing as I did. Once I was sure he would reciprocate, I let my eyes close, preparing myself for—
“Hey Sammy, I was wondering if- oh!”
I froze. My eyes shot open as I backed away from Norman as quickly as I could. “Susie!” I exclaimed, shakily rising to my feet. “Uhm- look, ah…”
She didn’t seem too surprised. The initial shock on her face faded away quickly as she gave me a smile. “No no, it’s alright. Take your time, and come find me once you’re done.” She turned around, but not before delivering Norman a wink. “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Polk.”
Susie left without another word. Once she was out of sight, I let out the breath I had been holding. I slumped against the wall, burying my reddened face in my hands. Norman suppressed a snicker, pulling my hands away from my face.
“Wasn’t that just some perfect timing, huh?” he said, shooting me a toothy grin.
“Don’t you ever shut up?” I retorted with a laugh. His soft eyes grew a fond look as he cocked his head to the side.
“Never heard you laugh like that before.”
“Keep up like this and you’ll never hear it again,” I warned lightheartedly, leaning towards Norman as if I was challenging him. He seemed to accept the challenge, as his hand slipped to the side of my face, fingers tucked under my ear as he rubbed his thumb gracefully against my cheek. Years of working with projector after projector had ingrained callouses into his already larger-than-average hand. Compared to my slender and graceful fingers, I believed they made quite a duo.
“At this point,” he began, eyes studying my face once again. “I don’t give a damn what the others think about me. About us.”
I put my hand on his chest, lessening the difference between ourselves ever so slightly. “Why don’t you prove it to me, then?”
I knew him well enough to understand exactly which buttons needed to be pressed, and boy did I press them. Norman tilted his head knowingly, smiling at me with that beautiful grin one final time before he leaned in. I intercepted him halfway as our lips finally met.
It was pure bliss. The feelings I had been suppressing for months were able to burst through the surface, all flooding out into a single kiss. His free hand rested on my waist as I pulled myself into him as much as I could. Our mouths fit together in perfect harmony, a melody I never would’ve been able to compose on my own.
I pulled away as I took in a deep breath, staring blissfully at his marvelous face. My hand now rested on his cheek, mindlessly rubbing a thumb over his pronounced cheekbones. My gaze traveled upwards, landing upon his thick eyebrows. He managed to keep them trimmed while still maintaining their iconic, bushy look. One thing beneath them, though, caught my attention, and I couldn’t help but comment on it.
“Did anyone ever tell you you have beautiful eyes?” I announced without thinking. I mentally cursed myself for such a stupid comment as Norman forced back a laugh.
“I believe I’ve heard it once or twice,” he said, giving me another short kiss. Once he pulled away, I leaned forwards, resting my forehead against his.
“If you told me a few months ago that I’d end up kissing Norman Polk, I would have laughed like I’d never laughed before,” I admitted. Norman raised an eyebrow as he chuckled.
“Things do change quickly, huh?”
I nodded, letting my head rest on his chest as he pulled me into a gentle hug. A soft smile made its way onto my face as I sighed in content. “They really do.“
✎𓂃♪
A lonely prophet limps through the halls of a studio he’s become well acquainted with. He places his hand upon a crack in the wall, letting his form ripple and disfigure itself as he travels through the inky abyss hiding within the walls. He pops out on another end, looking upon the short hallway in front of him. To the left of a Little Miracle Station lay a larger-than-normal ink splatter, a stray projector in the middle of it all. He huffs as he walks by it, kicking the projector out of his way. And if he feels a pang in his gut, like something within trying to call out to him, then… that’s a problem for another day.