Beethoven

chapter two: he's actually ludwig van beethoven

I left the boy who claimed his name to be Ludwig in the classical music section where I introduced him to a pair of headphones plugged into a CD player. He'd been standing there for the rest of my shift by himself, never disconnecting himself from the headphones. A little over two hours to be exact. The ironic thing was, in a way, he was fascinated by his own music.

Not that I actually believe that he's Ludwig van Beethoven. I'd rather the cute guy not be Beethoven, actually.

Nobody else had walked into the store except for the owner who had come back from his coffee expedition at the end of my shift. "Good job, Kiara. You're off work now."

As if he knew that I only tended to one customer.

Biting back my urge to ask the fairly aged man where he was for the entirety of the four hours that he had left, but I smiled. Removing my blue work vest, I shrugged on my dark red Jansport backpack and was more than eager to leave the store.

Except I couldn't just walk past Ludwig (it's funny how I'm calling him that so easily), who was still zoned into his music. The intelligent and actually rational part of me told me that Ludwig was just messing with me; he was playing with me as if I was supposed to believe that he's Beethoven.

But as I watched his intent expression as he still listened, another part of me, I don't know, pitied him? The boy didn't even notice that I was standing behind him until I tapped his shoulder and yanked his headphones out of his ears. "Dude, the store's going to close."

He looked behind him, away from the CD player, and he held a painful expression, his dark eyebrows slanted in worry and his lips curved downwards. He was staring at me like I had tortured him because I had forced his disconnection from music.

"Sorry," I found myself mumbling, making me feel guilty because of his upset attitude. But then again, he's been plugged in for two hours; it wasn't exactly a bad decision to forceLudwig to stop listening to his classical music. "You've been listening for a long time anyways."

"So?"

"So . . . uh, it's not good for you" I said, and glanced to where the owner was supposed to be behind the cash register, but he wasn't there for some reason. "Look, the store's going to close, so you have to leave now."

"What does that mean?"

I wished that I hadn't bothered to be a nice person. I pulled Ludwig's arm towards the door. "Just follow me out."

Taking Ludwig outside was a mistake. Although the weather was still bright for six o'clock, the setting of the busy roads of Vancouver seemed to overwhelm Ludwig, a hand clinging onto his chest as if he had taken a bullet.. He genuinely seemed to be confused, and I didn't know why. He was rotating his neck everywhere, his eyes scanning every object he sees, even examining a crow that was flapping its wings on a mailpost with wide eyes.

The scene in my eyes was no big deal though; all I could see were endless cars buzzing by us, and people busily walking down the streets. It was nothing.

Ludwig was at a loss for words though, his mouth gaping. I figured he was still playing time traveler (and he was pretty good at playing the dumb boy) (too bad he wasn't a blonde). I smacked my hand against the back of his head. The hit didn't seem to affect him as he was still dazed.

"What do I do?" he asked.

It was a question that nobody has ever asked me before. What do I do? "Maybe you can walk home now?" I suggested, swivelling around to walk my own path home.