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The onset of Spring floods Dustin’s bedroom with rays of sun and iridescent rainbows reflecting against the glass of his window. He’s momentarily distracted by the way they glimmer, colours merging together and resting atop his college application that sits on his crossed legs.
“Dustin.”
El’s voice resonates through his chest the same way music does at concerts. Her voice is always quiet, and her sentences are almost always fractured. But this time, mixed with the quiet tap of her finger against the page, it startles Dustin enough for his back to hit the side of his mattress.
“Sorry,” He murmurs, flashing her a guilty smile, “Got distracted. Look, rainbows!”
Dustin gently bends the page back and forth, the colours warping slightly with each movement. El smiles and nods, partially amused.
“Pretty,” She hums. She taps the page again, “You need to finish this.”
Dustin frowns and turns his eyes back to the application. Almost everything was filled out, everything important at-least. The only remaining question however, stuck out like a sore thumb.
“I don’t really have any special skills, El.”
El tilts her head in confusion, chestnut curls bumping against her shoulders, “What about Beethoven?”
What about Beethoven?
Lots of people have things they’re good at. Special skills.
Mike could thread words together to create story couture, and Will would bring them to life despite the confines of a canvas.
Lucas and Max were as free as birds. Whether it was an Ollie or a slam dunk, it always entranced like a flawless performance.
And Dustin,
Dustin could play piano.
There were a number of things Dustin was good at. He could invent radio towers, he could style his hair flawlessly, and he could even lift a bit. But in terms of special skills, worthy of note for a college application that is, they didn't quite meet the mark.
Dustin had done piano lessons before he moved to Hawkins. At first he found it boring, but he was good at it, and it always made his mother giddy each time he would play a short excerpt of a song.
During his time at his old school, he sat in the library alone with books about musical greats such as Mozart and Bach. Naturally, he was fascinated by Beethoven the most. As he flicked through the earthy pages, he learned of Beethoven eventually loosing his hearing. Despite this, he would use the vibrations from the keys to write one of his most renowned symphonys.
Younger Dustin was so inspired by this that he immediately checked out the book, biked home, and carved "Beethoven" into the side of his Baldwin piano (much to Ms. Henderson's dismay).
He didn't play a lot when he first moved to Hawkins. Probably because he actually had friends to hang out with for once. On the off occasion, he'd press a few keys or play a short piece when they had company. Although apart from that, it sat in his room, gathering dust.
Atleast, until the Fall of 85'.
The Byers were in the midst of packing their belongings when El dropped by. Her hair reached just below her shoulders now. Dustin noted the obvious heat-frizz, wondering to himself how short it would be if it was returned to its naturally curly state. She was wearing mismatched socks, and a beige button up rolled to her shoulders (which was clearly two sizes too large for her). One might say she looked very much like El.
Nonetheless, she walked into his bedroom and eyed the piano. She reached out to run her hand over the wood, her fingers stopping above the carving.
El looked up at Dustin, a faint glimmer of curiosity in her eyes, "…Beet…Oven?" She read.
Dustin blinked, "Beet..?" He looked closer at the carving, having nearly forgotten it was there in the first place, "Oh! That says Beethoven. Y'know, like the composer?"
El shook her head, "It's name is…Beethoven?" Before Dustin could answer, she pressed a key. "Can you play something?"
Dustin thought for a moment. It had been a while since he played a full piece. He wondered how many times El had wanted to ask him to play out of all the times she'd been in his room. How many times she'd eyed off his piano and wanted to play it herself.
"Sure," Dustin Said as He sat on the bench, "I might be rusty, but I'll give it my best shot. You won't be able to hear me play in California now will you?"
El smiled sadly at that. Dustin is nervous at first, but begins to feel himself remembering how and when to press each key. How long to hold each chord before the drop. It's almost as if his hands remember for him. El watches intently as he plays Fur Elise in its entirety.
When Dustin finally removed his hands from the keys, El perked up and applauded.
Dustin bowed dramatically, unable to hide the grin forming on his lips. He scoots over and pats the side of the bench, "Wanna try?"
El's eyes widened, "I…don't know how."
Dustin shrugged, "It's okay," He pats the seat again, "You can play bass chords and I'll do the rest."
El looks at him for a moment before nodding timidly and sitting next to him on the bench. Dustin guides her hands towards a set of keys and moves her fingers onto a few specific ones.
"All you have to do is play this chord—"
She presses her fingers down, a low hum booming from the piano. Dustin moves her hand over slightly.
"Then this one—"
She presses down again and a slightly higher hum comes out this time. Dustin moves her hand over to the other side.
"Then this one," An even higher hum that falls flatter than the others, "And that's it, just do those chords when I tell you, okay?"
El nods and places her hand back on the first chord. Dustin brings his own hand to the other side of the piano. Their other hands brush against eachother on the bench.
They're out of time, and El misses a few chords. But they laugh together and keep playing until it sounds somewhat like Beethoven.
Soon, Dustin Sees her out. Before she gets into Jonathan's car, El smiles at Dustin and places a hand on his shoulder.
"I think you should play more," She states, "I would love to hear more."
Soon after, El moved away with the Byers. Dustin would never admit it to anyone, but when he went home that evening, he cried into his pillow for hours. Will was gone. El was gone. He missed them both already. How was he supposed to survive Highschool without them? He still had Mike, and Lucas, and Max…but it wasn't the same.
He caught a glimpse of his piano. Beethoven. He drags himself up and sits on the bench. It almost feels cold without El's presence. He presses some keys absent mindedly, then proceeds to play Fur Elise once more.
During freshman year, Dustin started learning his favourite songs on the piano. Songs he actually liked rather than the ancient sheet music he'd studied throughout his life. He could play Master of Puppets. Eddie told him to listen to it so naturally he became obsessed with it.
The only thing though, is he couldn't quit Fur Elise. It was so common, so overplayed that he should've definitely been sick of it by then — only he wasn't.
Dustin could play it without looking at the keys. His muscle memory would simply take over and do it's thing. When practicing, his hands would absentmindedly find themselves repeating the same twinkling notes like a broken record. Part of him wished El was beside him, playing off-key bass notes while he plays the high ones.
All of that was so long ago. Beethoven sat unmoved, a thick layer of dust and cat hair covering the surface of the wooden panels. Dustin didn't feel like playing anymore.
Tap
"Dustin," El taps the page again, "What about Beethoven?"
Dustin sighs and brings his knees to his chest, leaning his head back into his mattress. He runs his hand over the carpet leisurely.
"I don't play anymore," He mumbles.
El frowns at him. She stands from her place on the ground next to Dustin, her shadow stretching across the room as the sunset comes on. She walks over to the piano and sits on the bench, far to the left. She pays the right side.
"You can."
El places her hand on the chords and stares at Dustin expectantly. Dustin states back at her momentarily before letting out a deep, defeated sigh and standing.
He joins El on the bench. Turning to face her, he takes in her features, and how the sunlight seems to wash over her perfectly. It almost makes her look as if she's glowing, as if she herself is the embodiment of the sun — of love, hope and beauty.
Her eyes are deep brown, her hair is silky smooth and falls in chestnut curls above her shoulders. She's wearing skirted overalls with embroidered flowers and a shirt splashed with pink, purple and green graphics. One might say she looked very much like herself. It warms Dustin.
Dustin places one hand on the keys, and his other on El's free hand. El smiles sweetly at him, her cheeks turning a light shade of red. They turn their attention back to the piano.
This time they are perfectly in sync. They play wordlessly, letting the music find them. El's bass notes are the right key, and are pressed exact when they need to. She played with discipline, yet her soul spoke through the keys. Dustin matched her tempo, followed her lead, let her take the reins. She had little control over a great many things. If this was what Dustin could offer her, he would. He will. He is.
"Dustin."
When they stop playing, Dustin tries to grip El's hand, but only hears the deep hum of his own hand pressing down on the base chords, vibrations buzzing against his skin. The bench is cold. Both of his hands rest against the keys, a familiar cramp in both of his wrists he would often get from playing.
Dustin looks to his side. The sunlight pours through his bedroom window, rainbows warping against the side of the piano where the carving sits. He looks down at his application on the ground, another glittering rainbow resting on its surface.
He stands up from the piano — Beethoven. Dustin sits back on the ground beside his bed and picks up the piece of paper.
He can almost hear it once more.
"Dustin."
"Jane." He whispers aloud, voice cracking.
He picks up a pen and scrawls on the page, answering one final question.
Do you have any special skills?
I can play the piano.