Work Text:
“Wrong Note.” Fuck .
“Isn’t it supposed to be ‘Fm’?” Alex huffed,
“No, it is supposed to go from ‘G’ to ‘Fm7’.”
“Right.”
Glam eyed their hands and sat straight.
“Try again.”
Their fingers played through the sequence, from ‘Am’ to ‘C’ and ‘G’ to ‘Fm7’. The note was rushed. They quickly shut their eyes and took a deep breath. Their heart fluttered and the rapid pumping of their heart flooded their eyes. It was fine. Everything was fine. It was just a small error.
“Wrong. Try again.” God damn am I a fucking disappointment.
Their eyes slowly opened to see their teacher’s rather large eyes. Starred at them, then the guitar, then back to them.
“I-I’m trying. It was right.” It was as if they were on trial.
“No, during the last measures you forgot to transition to ‘Fm7’. You have to increase your pace as the time signature changes. Simply adapt.” Simply. It was simple, right? They had been working on this one song for two weeks, but it was so simple. Wasn’t it?
So when he nodded his head, they felt at mercy under his glare. Starting with the first section, then transitioning into a C note, and then a G to, to..
“Wrong.” ..to nothing. And just like that they stopped. It was like running a marathon. The thrill of the chase to the finish line. The pure excitement when you believe you’re winning, only to fall at the finish line. Their chest tightened and their face flushed.
“I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong,” They rushed, “It’s been a full two weeks since I’ve tried learning this damn song and I still can’t get it. I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?”
A small tear slipped onto their face. God wait till their therapist hear of this. It had been a lousy week. 3 Straight tests and 1 quiz, all of which they had done less than poorly. It didn’t help that Dee was in their class, always the best, always perfect. What would Glam even think of them if they knew how badly they were floundering?
“How about we take a small break from our instruments, hm?” They barely noticed as Glam rose from his seat and set his guitar on his wall. They’d always loved that guitar. It was a Gibson Sunburst. It wasn’t the look that impressed them rather than the confidence and flares it gave to its wearer.
They remembered the first time they had met. They were at a small bar hanging around their parents, who were promptly getting drunk. Then he started. They noticed their puffy blonde hair and black eyeshadow shining against the stage lights. It didn’t matter how many people were invested in their own conversations, he played through it all. Alex was almost entranced by its sound, it was like a last cry of war.
And soon they had been standing dead-center in the front of the crowd, staring right back at Glam and his guitar. Only wearing black jeans and shirts with a jean jacket hung on their frame. And Alex found that Glam looked back, and gave a small nod.
Everyone seemed so confident playing the guitar. And maybe at that moment, they started to desire a small amount of that confidence.
Wiping away at the small rolling tears, they quickly put their guitar onto its stand.
“Right. I-I’m sorry.”
Glam seemed to eye them but eventually turned around and gathered a small box from underneath his desk.
“Alex, unfortunately, we only have 20 minutes left in our lessons. But, I suggest we go over the pacing and rhythm with a new technique.”
“20? Oh, um alright. How do we go about this technique?”
Seemingly with a larger grin, Glam pulled out boom-wacker sticks. Boomwacker sticks? He had these? A small childlike joy rushed through them. They distinctly remember their music teacher pulling them out every Friday to work on rhythm.
“The purpose of this exercise is to hit the sticks as you feel the notes should fit. Underneath, I will play the instrumental and keep a metronome for our tempos.” Huh .
And just like that, Glam grabbed their guitar and set the metronome for ¾ with 96 bpm.
“Let’s begin.”
C, G, Am, C, G, Fm7. Yes, let’s begin.
“The goal is to eventually be able to line up your timing alongside the singer when you get the chance. But, we will cross that stream when we land there.”
“Wait,” They paused, “You believe I can be in a band?” Do you believe I can be like you?
Almost without hesitation, he responded,” Of course. I don’t waste my time with hopeless musicians. I believe in you. Don’t you?” And like that, they were back to that moment. Staring up into Glam’s eyes at that bar. Alex could now see the small smile Glam had and the discussion the band members had after the band finished.
“Did you see the kid? Right up front? Man, I didn’t know they even let kids here!”
Still, Glam peered over to see the child who couldn’t have been older than 13 looking right back at him. There was such a small glimmer hidden behind the long bangs in their eyes that was so familiar. So much like him. Yes, he could help this child.
Still, Alex couldn’t have been happier when their parents offered to sign them up for lessons with Glam. At that moment they thought they could thrive. They could finally live past invisible. They would matter.
“Are you kidding me? A ‘C’ Alexandra! This is beyond unacceptable. I don’t understand why you can’t just try hard in class. All your other classmates understand the material. Why do you insist on failing? Why can’t you understand?”
“I never said-”
“Your actions speak volumes about your opinions of us. On our family. Do you believe we’ll let you become a failure, a nobody? Well, young lady, you’re quite wrong. Perhaps till your grades are settled you should stop those stupid lessons with your guitar instructor. Fewer distractions for you.”
Their chest heaved and their eyes watered.
“Mom, please-I-I’m trying. I just don’t understand the topics. I just don’t understand!”
They weren’t a failure. Still, they couldn’t lose this place, this class.
“I don’t want to leave, sir.”
At school, they were the quiet ones in the classroom. No one really appreciated them and they were fine with that. It was fine until their best friend left their school, and then Alex lost their best friend in an argument. They couldn’t stand the gut-wrenching pain in their chest, the numbness in their brain. They were one step away from the deep end. This was the last place they had.
“I..don’t understand,” And finally Glam and they met eyes and it felt as if their heart shattered.
“I feel so alone everywhere. Everywhere I go, I feel like..like a failure. I don't feel like a failure here. Please let me stay, sir.” When they finally opened their eyes, which they’d unknowingly closed, they nearly started to cry.
“Alex, I see you,” He paused and held their hand, “I’m glad I can finally see you. I’m sorry I couldn’t help sooner.”
“It’s not your fault-”
“Alex, I understand what loneliness, isolation, feels like. It’s alright to feel..upset.” They couldn’t help but look down and beat red. He sees me.
Still, they hated his eyes wavering over them. Seeing them like this. This is what they wanted but it felt awful to be seen in such an embarrassing moment.
“This makes the two-year mark since I took you on as a student. Fascinating.” Glam’s eyes seemed to look anywhere but at Alex. Carefully reading the familiar posters and print on the walls.
“Did you really think I never made mistakes? I remember countless times I spent hours obsessing over a wrong note when I was young. It was unnecessary, and careless with my own time. Do you understand now what I am saying?” Seeing their blank stare, he continued with a softer tone, “How about you try again?”
“I can do that.” Their throat felt raw and their voice hoarse.
Raising their guitar, they gave a final look towards Glam.
“Begin.”
It felt like muscle memory. Their fingers slipped onto each note, reverbed from the Amp in the room’s corner. Closing their eyes, it felt like their heart was being torn with every strum. But just as quickly as those wounds came out, the smoother notes soothed the scars. It felt like warm sunlight streaming down on them. The serenity fills and passed through Alex, like an ocean wave it streamed in and past. The notes were fluid like a soft melody.
Reaching over to the first Fret, Alex barred the fret and reached their pinky finger to the third. And like a taut bowstring, when she strummed the ‘Fm7’, a small burst of fire started in their soul.
“Well done! Truly, well done Alex.” A fuzzy feeling remained in their heart as they opened their eyes.
“High five!” They shouted; Slightly surprised Glam simply raised his hand and let Alex slam his hand.
Looking at the clock, Alex sighed.
“Time’s up. I guess I should get outta here before my parents get pissy.” Locking up their guitar in its case, Alex went for the door.
“Wait a moment please.” Walking over to his desk, Glam pulled out his phone and a small paper flyer. As the light from his phone beamed into the ceiling, he quickly copied something and paced back to them.
“Please reach out to me or my child, Dee if you require any homework assistance. I can say we’re both more than happy to assist if needed.”
On the paper were two phone numbers labeled ‘Dee’ and ‘Glam’.
“No..no! I don’t want to waste your or Dee’s time.”
Chuckled Glam brought them to the door of his study, “For every hour Dee tutors you by my standards, he will receive a wage. You don’t need to worry.”
Slowly walking to the door of their home, Alex sighed. Checking over the front paper, their eyes widened.
“No.”
“If you want to.” Glam trailed,
On its cover was a rather colorful flyer of a band. They could see it was at the same bar where they’d met.
“If you want to, Dee’s band is in need of a guitar player of his own age. I think you would be fitting.”
Looking up at Glam, Alex finally felt their mind go silent. No negative thoughts. No whispers of failure, only pure happiness.
“Thank you…thank you so much, sir. And thank you for understanding about the whole,” Their hands waved around, “Emotions thing. No’s ever really listened.”
Opening the door, Alex waved goodbye and for once, happily leaped into the car.
Glam could hear a door open and soon Dee slowly trailed down the stairs.
“Has your student left?”
“Yes. Oh, Dee, I have offered that my student, Alex Maurder, audition for your band. I apologize for the short notice.”
“It’s fine,” He waved off, “‘Alex Maurder’, hm. They’re in my class.”
“Even better! I’ve lent them your phone number. If they reach out for the help of any kind, I hope you will be obligated to help them.”
“Yeah..yeah. Will do.”
Walking off Dee felt a small pang from his phone. He sighed and chuckled.
While somewhere in their small home of Alex, they nervously set up their guitar and sent a selfie of themselves and their guitar asking for the audition dates.
Another notification came from Alex’s phone and they smiled.
Maybe they could get through the day, maybe they could get through the year. Just maybe.