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Hal didn’t know why he felt so sad today. He was fine when he woke up this morning. A little tired from the night before since he stayed up late drawing and listening to music, but otherwise okay. Today was no different. He got out his sketchbook and the colored pencils his mom and brother had gotten for him some months ago, then plugged in his earbuds. He turned to a few songs by The Beatles.
First couple were by George, one by Paul, and lastly by John. Julia was always Hal’s favorite. It was comforting in some ways, whether he was hammering out some homework, drawing, getting lost in his thoughts and so on. He quietly drew, coloring the fence of peonies he had passed by with his twin over the week when walking to school. As he was filling in the last one, the song finished, so Hal restarted.
It never really hit him how sad the song was before. He knew it was very personal in nature to Lennon (who was long dead now) but its weight didn’t settle onto his shoulders as it did in that moment. His mother was gone, and he was angry. She was a very sporadic moment in his life as Lennon didn’t really get to know her until he was a teenager. And only then when he finally reconnected with her, she died, just like that. The words held just as much anger as they did beauty.
“When I cannot sing my heart. I can only speak my mind.”
A few tears brimmed over, dripping onto Hal’s drawing. His heart felt very heavy in his chest all of a sudden, the lump in his throat only growing bigger. And before he knew it, he was bawling his eyes out. He didn’t really care. He felt sad and he needed to get it out of his system.
At this point he put his sketchbook and pencils aside, lying down. It struck a deep longing in him but for what he didn’t know. For now, he just wanted sleep this feeling off. Taking his glasses off, he put them on the nightstand, trying to calm down. He was just tired. That was it. If he got some sleep, then he’d feel better. Or at the very least escape what was bugging him.
Of course, though, his brother had to enter the room.
“Hal? You awake?”
Great. Just great. The brunette sighed, sitting up. “Yeah?”
“Mom’s thinking of going out for dinner tonight, she wanted to know if you were down for it.”
“Uh, yeah. Sounds good.”
“You good?” Bill asked, walking a bit closer.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Hal lied, “I Just woke up from a nap.”
“Can you turn around?”
Hal paused. Before he could do anything, his twin rounded the corner of his bed, glancing down at him.
“What’s up?” he asked, frowning.
“Uh- nothing. It’s nothing.” Hal rubbed the tears out of his eyes, even when it was too late.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” Bill noted, arms crossed over his chest.
“It isn’t anything. Just a headache.” Hal filled in. “Just, go down. I’ll come down in a bit.”
“So, you can cry some more?”
Hal went still, eyes glued to the floor. Bill sighed and pulled his chair from his desk to his bedside.
“Okay that was kinda mean. But seriously, what’s up?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Hal muttered, turning away.
“Well, you’re gonna. So, spill.”
“Or what?” Hal shot his twin a look.
“Or…” Bill trailed. “I play your favorite song.”
“…. California girls?”
Bill grinned. “That’s the one.”
“I’d welcome that actually.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“You’re gonna laugh. And jeer. You won’t let me live it down.” Hal sighed.
“I won’t, not this time.”
“Yeah, for like five seconds, then you’ll bug and prod me all week about it.”
“But that’s half the fun! Annoying you!” Bill laughed.
“Oh, and why is that?”
“Cause’ that gets your attention.”
This was half true. Bill annoyed him a lot yes. But it was all mild, kind of like how a child stuck to their parent like glue. Poking their sides, arms, sneaking up on them when they least expected it. Or asking a zillion dumb questions just to distract them. ‘Why is the sky blue?’ ‘Where do babies come from?’ ‘What does purple smell like?’ It didn’t matter. As long as Hal’s eyes were on him.
“The current question was- “
“Where do the planets come from?” Bill filled in.
Hal chuckled. “The big bang.”
“But how do you know that for sure?” Bill pressed.
“I dunno. Our science teacher I guess.”
“Hmm.”
Silence settled between them for a moment, before Bill’s eyes shifted to Hal’s phone screen. Raising a brow, he reached for it, grabbing it before Hal could stop him, glancing over the screen.
“Beatles? Julia?”
“Uh, yes.” Hal quietly answered.
“Is that what you were- “
“Yes, yes I was, go ahead make fun of me.” Hal sighed, leaning back onto the bed post.
“I can’t remember what it sounds like. Mind if I play it?”
Hal shrugged. “Sure.”
Bill took his phone from him, sliding back the bar to the start of the song, then hitting play. The song filled the quiet air of the room. Hal could almost see the notes dotting themselves on the little dust motes flitting about in the air. Some of the words floated about in his head, already painting his heart a deeper shade of blue. He’d glance to Bill every now and then, trying to gauge what he thought of the song from his expression. There wasn’t much he could note upon. Bill was notorious for his “resting bitch face” of which his friends would relentlessly tease him about at school. Even Hal would razz him about it now and then.
The song soon came to an end, of which Bill quietly sat there, not saying anything. Hal expected to start razzing on the song, probably thinking it was too maudlin for him. But none of that came. Instead, he looked pensive. Lost, almost.
“Well?” Hal pushed.
“… I take it the song is about Lennon’s mother?” Bill replied.
“How’d you know?”
“It’s a sad song. Kinda speaks for itself. They were separated, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, they were.” Hal answered. “I think they reunited when he was a teenager, but just as they did, she died in a car accident.”
“Oh. I, didn’t know that.”
“I think he was just really angry. Divorce really changes kids. And then to lose her like that… I don’t think he recovered from it.”
“Kinda sounds like Kurt Cobain.” Bill commented, staring at nothing in particular.
“He killed himself, right? When he was twenty something?”
“27.” Bill answered. “I think he was just done. Just, tired of it, you know? Didn’t help beforehand his family was a total shitshow. And his wife. Ugh. Don’t even get me started on her.”
“Wow. It was that bad huh?” Hal said.
“It was. Courtney love was a real bitch.” Bill rolled his eyes, not at his twin, but at the thought of the woman.
“Language Bill. Language.” Hal lightly admonished.
“Christ what are you mom? Come on you know she doesn’t care.” Bill chuckled.
“Well, she should.”
“Right, so I can call you mom number two then right?”
“Sure, sure Bill.”
Bill smiled, looking down now, silence settling for a moment, fiddling with the hem on his shirt. Then something crossed his mind “… So why Julia?”
“Hm?”
“Julia’s your favorite Beatles song, right? Why that one?” Bill asked.
“I don’t know.” Hal answered. “I think that’s the song where I feel the artist’s pain the most. His longing. Love. Things like that.”
“I can see that.”
“Do you like it?” Hal asked, though he felt a bit silly asking that.
He and Bill couldn’t have been more opposites when it came to music and art. Bill liked rock and metal, while Hal preferred older music, the real vintage kind dating back to the 1950’s where people had that really soft yet semi-wavery kind of voice. He loved everything through the 60’s and 70’s. He and Bill kind of met in the middle when it came to 80’s but everyone like 80’s music, so he supposed it was to be expected.
“It’s… very soft. Sincere. And kind of sad. I don’t think I’d listen to it on my own.”
“Why not?” Hal asked.
Bill shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it feels too personal. Too much in some ways.”
“Too much?”
“I mean, it just kind of reminds me of real-life stuff, I guess. I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“That’s okay.” Hal replied. “I understand.”
“… I’d listen to it with you though.” Bill replied.
“Really?” Hal smiled.
“Yeah, really.” Bill grinned. “Say… why don’t we have a music night together or something? We can share stuff and what not.”
“Really!?” Hal beamed, scooting closer.
“Yeah, yeah, really. We can play all kinds of stuff. Your Beatles, my Nirvana, and whatever else.” Bill said. “But… you know who I would really love to hear?”
“Who?”
“The Zombies.”
Hal raised a brow, “Why?”
“Time of the season. You used to play that one all the time.” Bill replied.
“Oh yeah, that’s a good song. Really unusual-“
“Who’s your daddy?” Bill interrupted.
Hal froze looking up at his brother. “Pardon?”
“You know. From the song?” Bill cleared his throat.
“What’s your name? Who’s your daddy?” He sang, quite suggestively, grinning ear-to-ear.
Hal groaned face palming, “Oh lord, now you’ve found a new thing to torture me with.”
“All right, all right I’ll spare you.” Bill chuckled, “For tonight at least. Let’s go downstairs for a bit. Mom’s probably wondering what we’re up too.” He reached out his hand to the younger boy, ow which Hal smiled, accepting it.
“That sounds great.”
The pair left their room and made their way downstairs, curious to see what their mother was up to, already excited to tell her about the new ritual they just dreamed up.