warmth - (phan)

13

i walk down the hallway to the music room, feeling nauseous. i feel anxious, excited an nervous. it's been a long time. will i even be able to do it?

what if i start crying? i'll look like such a loser. either way, with a big gulp of nerves, i step inside the music room.

i spot phil sitting on the piano bench and he instantly looks up and our eyes meet.

"dan!" he exclaims, "honestly, i thought you wouldn't have showed up."

"i-i wouldn't do that," i inhale.

"yeah you would," he laughs, standing up. i let out a deep breath.

"s-so...are we-"

"here's the piece!" phil cuts me off, handing a folder to me.

"um...i-uh..." i struggle for words, feeling overwhelmed.

"i knew it wouldn't have been that easy," he sighs. "let's start by actually sitting at the piano."

i gulp, nervously taking a seat at the bench, gripping at it. he stands beside the bench, staring at me.

"go on..." he whispers. the room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

"i can't," i choke, gripping the seat firmer.

"sure you can!" he shuffles behind me and pauses for a moment. then he pushes his arms out, under mine, gently holding my trembling hands.

he leads my fingers to the keys, as my entire body tenses and my fingers shake uncontrollably.

my fingers touch the cold keys, as the warmth of his hands on mine, starts to disappear.

"ph-phil..." i sputter, tears stinging the brims of my eyes.

"it's okay..." he consoles me. "you can do it."

Phil:

i wait for dan in the dimly lit music room. the anticipation eats at me. this is going to be difficult, i can already sense it.

suddenly the door opens, and it seems like my stomach has just dropped. i look up to see a nervous, curly haired, dan, twiddling his thumbs.

"dan!" i exclaim getting up. "honestly, i thought you wouldn't have showed up."

his face goes pale and his eyes widen slightly.

"i-i wouldn't do that," he stammers walking over.

"yeah you would," i remark, laughing.

"s-so...are we-" he starts mumbling.

"here's the piece!" i cut him off, handing him the folder. i know it won't be this easy, but maybe it will do something.

his breath hitches, as he stares at me with his big brown eyes.

"um...i-uh..." he stutters, looking down at his feet.

my heart breaks a little. why is this so difficult? what makes it so hard for him?

i know his mom died and he stopped playing then. but that's not the only reason and i know that.

he performed one more time after his mom's death. i was there and i knew there was something off. he wasn't himself anymore. the stage wasn't his home anymore.

he never performed on stage ever again after that night. but there has to be a bigger reason?

i will decipher this code, dan. i'm not giving up this easy.