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Evan Void is a violinist. A very good one, in fact. What’s even better is how violins are very expressive instruments. Violins can be graceful, powerful, sad, angry, and many other emotions in between.
Evan Void is a violinist. He also thought about doing a wind instrument, which connected back to his Enderian background. But he was born with an Enderian lung condition similar to asthma. Unlike asthma, the lung itself was smaller than it should be and only apparent in very few Enderians. As he had a minor case, it was only meant to affect him if he did heavy exercise.
Evan Void is a violinist. He used to aspire to be an actor. But when the medications took his melanin, then tried to revert his voice, then worsened his lungs, then they made him clam up. He disappeared into himself. Apparently his voice didn’t matter, and never helped him anyway. If he didn’t talk, he wouldn’t get hurt. A violinist can be like an actor. With all the possible emotions the instrument can give, the single violin can tell a story.
Evan Void is a Void. It took him a while, though. He started off as Evan, then slowly reclaimed the letters of his surname. He has his parents to blame for that. They disowned him.
Evan Void is male. Yes, his parents tried to deny it (they’re dead now, good riddance). But Evan Void is a male. Do not say otherwise.
And Evan wants to tell a story. So he gladly takes the first opportunity that comes knocking on his door.
Evan sat on his balcony, letting his mind wander as he played the violin. It was a warm June morning, a slight breeze sent his tunes through the streets. Around him, the suburbs bustled. People were on their way to work, some walked their dogs, a few were on their way to a cafe, and some were at home enjoying the weather.
“Evan!” The voice of his neighbor caused him to stop playing. “There’s a guy at your door, wants to talk to you.”
Evan was a little confused and surprised by that but he smiled in a ‘thank you’ and went back into his apartment. Gently laying his violin and bow on the coffee table, Evan walked to his door and peered through the peephole. Deeming the raven-haired man on the other side not a killer, he opened the door.
The man looked up from the floor, “Hello! You’re Evan right?” Evan nodded. “I’m Mumbo. One of your colleagues contacted me after they saw that I was doing a film for the theater’s film festival. Said that you’d be interested.”
“What’s the film about?” Evan shifted.
“A story from the person featured. I’m planning to make it wordless, if that means anything.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Great! Could I have your number or email so I can send the details to you?”
Evan nodded and held out his hand for Mumbo’s phone. With his phone, Evan quickly put his contact information in before handing it back.
“I will contact you soon.” Mumbo smiled before waving and walking away. Evan gave the man a quick wave before shutting the door.
The next few days were full of planning over texts. They set up a place for filming, what Evan’s idea was, how Mumbo thought of producing it, what others said about helping out with the project, and dates for filming.
Then, two weeks later, it was time. The film was going to take place in the backyard of Evan’s childhood home (with permission of the current owners). The Voids lived in the countryside, so they had a large backyard. Evan’s parents almost never cut the grass, so it was always long. The current owners kept the grass at a medium length. Which, for the film, was actually preferable.
Evan picked up a few other people who were helping out in the film as he traveled out. It was half an hour to sunrise, the time they were planning to film at. Darkness to light. Evan and the others in his car arrived at the house last. Cars with other people lined the street along with a moving truck.
Going around back, Evan saw Mumbo conferring with a lighting director. Some lights were set up around the area, giving the needed light for the time of night.
“Morning!” The lighting director smiled. Evan had definitely passed her in the hall a few times but didn’t know her name.
Evan smiled back and looked past the camera Mumbo had set up. One chair sat in the grass. Behind the chair, people were finishing things up. What they were doing was a little background to Evan’s music. He had sent in a recording of him playing and Mumbo (along with others) made a scene to go with it. Evan changed a few details, but it was mainly Mumbo’s work.
“So this is the plan,” Mumbo addressed Evan. “You’re going to be in the chair, no lights. Florence will then turn them on, and you just start playing. Don’t worry about what’s going on behind you, they got it. Do you want earplugs so as to not get distracted?” Evan shook his head, he was good at tuning things out. Mumbo smiled and called for everyone to get ready. Evan started to unpack his violin, Florence backed up, and people disappeared from the camera’s field of view.
When the main lights turned off, it was time. Mumbo started filming while Evan confidently walked up to the chair. It felt very similar to whenever his group did a performance. He wore a formal shirt and pants. But, instead of all black, he wore dark purple. He had gotten the two from a thrift shop because they looked cool and decided to add gold detailing himself. His shoulder-length hair was also let free like he usually lets it be.
Evan sat down on the chair and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He raised his violin and started to play. The growing redness in his eyelids said that the lights were on.
The piece was a culmination of thoughts Evan came up with throughout the years and improvisation. And it conveyed all the emotions it needed to. Joy, anger, and melancholy. It was quiet and loud, almost no inbetween.
Behind him, Evan heard people shuffling about, furniture being placed down. For the first few parts, a guitar played behind him. And for a large section, his friends stood behind him, playing their instruments. During the entire piece, there was always something going on behind him. There was no static. Just like his life, constantly changing.
When he finished, Evan opened his eyes and set down his violin. It was the morning golden hour, casting a nice light on everyone. From behind Evan, his small orchestra group attacked him with a hug. Evan laughed and set down his violin on the seat as he got up. He returned the hug as everyone behind the camera wrapped up. With a ‘CUT!’ from Mumbo, they knew the film was done.
Everyone hung out in the yard as Mumbo went through the footage, making sure everything went well. And when a cheer came from him, they all knew it was good. Everyone cheered and clapped. Evan smiled as the others pat him on the back. He really wondered how the whole thing looked, and if Mumbo planned to do any editing.
The festival was mid-July, which gave Evan lots of time to think before the day arrived. He had told Mumbo that he didn’t want to see the film until the festival, so he was in the dark. While he slightly felt that decision was a mistake, another part of him said it wasn’t.
So Evan went along with his mundane life like normal. Practice violin in the morning, fill up time throughout the day, make dinner, and sleep. The only time he did different things was when he had to write the description for the film with Mumbo and to plan out what he was going to wear. He opted for a nice dark red suit he bought and wore for a friend’s wedding. Mumbo had also told Evan that his friends (who had been given the bare minimum of details) would be attending the festival, and were planning on asking Evan many questions.
When the night of the festival arrived, Evan didn’t really know if he was ready. He stood in front of his mirror, looking snazzy in the suit, and prepared himself for what he thought the questions would be. A reminder went off on his phone. It was time to go. He took a deep breath and put his phone in his pocket, and grabbed his keys.
The roads were slightly busy on the way to the theater. Others gave Evan luck as he passed them in the parking lot right next to the theater. When he entered the main foyer, there were so many people. Some recognized him and told him how much they were anticipating the film. As Evan passed through the crowd, he tried to find someone he knew. When he found no one, he simply found an empty spot on the stairs and sat.
And he stayed like that until the doors opened. Evan quickly got up and his ticket scanned. His seat was a good one. Not too close to the screen, but not too far. His seat was in the middle of the row.
As others entered the room, the volume grew. Evan’s close colleagues sat near him, and Mumbo sat next to him. The wait for the film wasn’t going to be too long, as Mumbo’s last name was a ‘J’. Once the doors closed, the lights flickered to quiet everyone. The first film started.
Evan thoroughly enjoyed the films presented. They were all interesting and showed some real talent. Then one faded out and the words
EVAN VOID: THE VIOLINIST
A FILM BY MUMBO JUMBO
faded in. Mumbo turned to Evan with a smile, Evan did the same but with nervous energy.
The black screen faded away to a landscape with a blue background. Twilight. Footsteps were heard in the grass before the calm, joyous melody started. Soft orangeish lights faded on and illuminated Evan and parts of the area behind him.
Another person walked onto screen, their head cut off by the camera. They stood behind Evan and started to play a complementing melody on their guitar. Behind all of that, a baby carriage was rolled into frame.
The happy melody continued as items related to school and summer memories appeared. In the background, there were always two people, meant to represent his parents. They kept their distance, which was good.
And then the guitar’s melody abruptly stopped and the person playing it rushed away. Evan’s melody turned more melancholy. The figures meant to be his parents approached, along with a doctor-like figure. A table was set out with piles of used pill bottles on top. On the other side, two people ripped up and a dress then ran out of the frame with the torn clothing. More and more pill bottles got added to the table right until the music hit a sharp note.
Evan paused. Then he played a fast portion. It was chaotic and loud. You looked at it and wondered, “How are the strings not breaking?” In the background people rushed around. Everything that was there before was ripped away from the scene and was replaced with musical instruments in one corner, people rushing about on the other side. It stayed like this for a while, people occasionally stood near Evan. But never for long.
Then the people and instruments were pushed away. The tempo slowed but the tune was still sad. Near Evan, a table with a pair of keys was set up. A little bit behind him, his orchestra group stood about playing their instruments softly. People, but many fewer than last time, walked around the area. As the music became happier, his orchestra friends got closer. Then they all crouched down, still playing their instruments. In the background, two people ran across the scene holding a well-lit sign, ‘BE GONE FOUL BEASTS!’ There was a small added ‘r’ in between the ‘B’ and ‘E’. The orchestra stood back up and continued playing.
In the background of one particularly happy section, there was a miniature funeral. It disappeared quickly. The piece continued to be happy as photos and mementos of a musician's life appeared around the stage. By now, the sun was in the golden hour phase. Evan played a few notes then put his violin down, the others stopped as well. The piece sounded unfinished, but Evan’s life was not over either.
Evan opened his eyes and his friends attacked him like they did last time. The video faded to black as all of them laughed and cheered.
The audience clapped, Evan joined them. He and Mumbo smiled at each other once again. A small credits scene rolled before it faded out for the last time. Then the next film started.
When all the films finished, the crowd erupted into applause before everyone started to file out. Evan stuck his Mumbo as he headed out. Though, the night was not over. Everyone who made a film was expected to stay and answer anyone’s questions. There were some to Mumbo about technical things, but most were for Evan. Hoping to get out as fast as possible, Evan did what he always did. Answer the fastest he could with the shortest sentences possible.
“Who was the person with the guitar?”
“Brother.”
“Why’d you have to take so many pills?”
“Enderian asthma.”
“Why’d the person with the guitar leave so quickly?”
“10-year age gap.”
“You’re a disgrace to society, do you know that?”
“...”
Questions like that went on for a long time. But when the allotted question time was over, Evan got out of there as fast as he could. Back out in the open, nighttime air, he calmed his nerves. Still, he wasn’t safe from questions. People exiting the building still asked questions, so Evan had to make an excuse and he went to his car.
The silence of a parking lot is a nice one. Evan rested his head against the steering wheel and just…sat there. His phone buzzed, it was Mumbo.
“...”
“Evan? Are you there?”
“Mhm.”
“...Uh, where’d you go?”
“I left.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Too many people.”
“Hm. Sorry about that. Well, uh, pretty much everyone’s cleared out. Also, my friends still want to talk. Are you still up for it?”
“Mhm.”
“‘Mhm’ as in you still want to do it?”
“Mhm.”
“Alright…Can you meet us at the front of the theater?”
“Okay.”
“Okay, see you then.” Mumbo hung up, sending Evan back into the quiet car. With a sigh, Evan exited his car. Slowly, he walked back to the front of the theater.
Mumbo appeared to have a lot of friends. They all chatted outside the theater, Evan guessed that there were about 20 of them. They all greeted Evan when they saw him. Some asked the same questions that everyone else did while the rest of them talked about random topics. One was different.
A man who called himself ‘Scar’ asked a question others seemed kind of scared to ask. “So, Evan, how’d you choose your name?” A few around him ceased their conversations and listened in. This did not help.
“It’s close to my deadname.”
“Cool. Why?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“Why’d you choose something close to your deadname? Don’t you want to…escape it or something?”
“The name Evan just…fit.” Evan paused. There was another part he wanted to add. Scar seemed like someone who was agreeable. Evan averted his gaze slightly, “I also didn’t want to entirely…lose myself. She’s still a part of me. Under all the…chemicals.”
“That’s interesting! So you’re a big guy on identity?”
“I guess? I think of it more as power. I used to just be ‘Evan’. Took me years to be ‘Evan Void’ again.” Somehow, Scar’s light personality was making talking easier.
“You know what else took time?” A snarky voice behind Evan snorted. Evan turned to see some old-ish woman with a cruel smile. “It must’ve taken your parents forever to think of ‘Evangeline’ or whatever your real name is. All of that precious time down the drain for something stupid.”
If it wasn't for Evan quick talk with Scar or his bubbling over anger, he wouldn’t have said anything. “Okay, first off: Evangeline sounds like a really stupid name. And no, you’re completely wrong. My parents didn’t spend a minute on me. The only time they did was getting stupid medications for a problem they couldn’t fix.”
“And what’s that? You being delusional and trying to convince people that you’re something you’re not?”
“No, but they did try and it backfired in the best way possible. The drugs were for a minor case of an Enderian lung disease.”
“A disease?” The woman looked genuinely shocked. “Oh, but that is something to cure!”
“See, you say that but I don’t think you’ve been medicated for ‘Asshole Disease’.”
“You! Did no one ever teach you how to respect your elders, young lady?”
“Man. Young man. I think you have a very serious case of ‘Asshole Disease’, are you sure you’re okay?” Evan faked caring about the woman, pulling a perfect face and everything.
The woman was very offended by this. “This is what I’m saying!” She cast a ‘can you believe this?’ look to the people behind Evan. “Did anyone teach you manners?”
“Yeah, my brother did. And for the record, I am doing all that he taught me.”
“Being a complete asshole?”
“If that’s what you call it. Listen, if you’re done annoying me, I’d like to talk to these non-assholes.”
“You’re an asshole!” The woman yelled before storming away.
Evan was shocked by how terrible of an insult that was. “Where’d you hear that one? A playground?” The woman did not respond but continued storming away.
“Wow.” Someone said. “What a prick.” They all muttered in agreement.
Another gasped in shock, “Woah! It’s late. We need to go.”
Evan checked his phone, near midnight. He smiled at the group and gave a wave as they all realized the time and started to walk away. Evan turned and left for the parking lot.
What just happened was a lot. A lot of many things. Mainly talking. It had been forever since Evan had given that many opinions. Hopefully it didn’t backfire like it usually did. That being said, the past two weeks of opinions given by Evan didn’t turn out bad. Mumbo took them into consideration when he gave them. But, was he actually that easy-going?
Someone walked up to him, “Evan?” Lost in thoughts, he only recognized his name and turned.
He was met with his brother. Or, someone who looked like him. Dark hair, green eyes, freckles. Evan tilted his head, “Xisuma?”
The man smiled. He was Xisuma. “You’ve grown a lot.”
Evan nodded slowly.
“Hey, I’m sorry for never coming back after I went off to college. You should’ve had someone.”
I don’t think anything would change, Evan thought. But he only nodded again.
“You’re quiet. Especially for what you just unloaded onto that woman.”
Evan nodded. Then Xisuma said nothing more. Just to break the tension, Evan mustered out a few words. “Opinions got me nowhere.”
Xisuma’s face morphed into sadness. “Don’t say that. You always had good opinions, I found the best ice cream combination thanks to them. What made you think that they were bad?”
“ They didn’t listen to me when I said there is no cure to my lung problem. And where am I now? All because I spoke.”
“Ten-year gaps do a lot, don’t they? Hey, I’ve got no way to counter that. But you showed opinions to that woman, that was good. If you said nothing, she would’ve left thinking that she won! Some people are jerks and don’t listen to opinions, yes, but most will try and listen to them. You can’t let others walk all over you.”
What Xisuma was saying seemed true. “How far has this…philosophy gotten you?”
“Hurt only a few times. But! I did get an Animal Science degree and I work as a service animal trainer!” Xisuma said this all with a proud smile. All of it had been his childhood dream.
“Xisuma, I don’t know—”
“That’s an opinion. See, you’re already doing good.”
Evan was surprised by the sudden interjection but smiled and laughed a little.
“Evan,” Xisuma started, putting a hand on Evan’s shoulder. “I know it will take you a while, but make sure to get your opinions out there. And, this time, I’ll be there the whole way.”
“Thank you,” Evan smiled.
Xisuma did keep up his promise. He and Evan talked often, Evan also regularly talked to Xisuma’s friends. They were all nice people, even with their shenanigans. And over time, Evan got more and more out there.
He talked about adding a thing or two to a piece, and it mostly worked out. He’d give advice and help people in times of need. It all made him closer with his orchestra mates, a good thing.
The little kid who always expressed opinions was back, and stronger this time. Maybe not in the color or breathing department, but in a self-confidence and general confidence area. Large crowds were still a problem, but it was fine. As long as Evan had someone he knew and trusted, he made it though.
Trust was always going to be a tough one, but anyone willing to wait was someone Evan knew he could trust.