Terrible Fates (BEN Drowned story)

Chapter 33

Because I will see them again.

...

Back at the mansion, it was quiet. Everyone else must be busy doing their own thing. I didn't even see Ladon outside on the way in. But just when I was about to sulk alone in the kitchen, a hero came to rescue me from silence.

"Hey," Jack said as he entered the kitchen.

My shoulders perked up a bit and I greeted, "Hey.."

He stopped for a moment, completely frozen. After a couple of seconds of nothing, he asked, "There's a sad tone to your voice. What's up?"

Sometimes I'm still amazed with his out-of-this-world hearing.

"It's nothing," I said. "Just a boring time out of the mansion."

Pulling up the chair next to me at the table, he asked, "You went to see your friends again, didn't you?"

"How'd you know?" I murmured hesitantly.

"That's the only reason you'll really leave, aside from Corrupted," he stated.

Defeated, I sighed and said, "I did."

"How'd it go?"

Twiddling my thumbs, I recounted, "There was another concert at Juilliard. The whole gang was there in support. Craig was featured again, and even got to perform an original solo composition. He named it Blue, after me..."

I paused for a moment and Jack didn't fill in the gap with a remark. That made me feel better than if he did say something. I went on. "Anyway, I tried to drop off a rose for him in his cello case, but I ran out of time, and...he saw me."

Jack shifted closer, attentive to this detail--concerned.

"Nothing happened," I assured him. "It's just...he was surprised, and I panicked, and I ran out of the building. I dropped the rose where he saw me, so I hope he picked it up before it got trampled on by the other musicians."

Again, Jack was quiet, but now I was unsure if I liked that or not. Unable to deal with the silence, I added, "I feel bad. He saw me--for the first time in a little over a year--and I bolted. What are the chances that I show up when he plays a solo dedicated to me, also? I mean...he must feel awful right now... He probably would've had a good night if I had just left things alone. I know he's one to worry..."

Tenderly, Jack grabs my hand and says, "On the bright side, he knows you're still alive, and that you still care about him and all your other friends enough to visit."

"That is a positive thing," I agreed glumly. "I just can't help but feel guilty anyway."

And suddenly my eyes started watering. I squeezed Jack's hand tightly.

"He dedicated a song to me! And it was beautiful! It had all the right notes and rhythms and tone! A masterpiece--and he made it himself! I wish I could've recorded it! I should've, somehow! Because what if I can never hear it again?! What if me bailing on him today just made him angry and regretful over his piece?? He might never play it again! Jack, it was outstanding and it needs to live on as true art forever and ever! It has to be revered! Why'd it have to be so good?! I don't know if I should feel sad, proud, or angry! Which one?! All I can do is cry and ramble and--!"

"Ao."

"WHAT."

He paused.

Sniffling, I caressed his hand and mumbled, "I'm sorry for snapping. I didn't mean it."

He gave a small smile, revealing a hint of his dimples. "It's alright. Snap at me all you want, if it makes you feel better."

"You shouldn't say that so confidently," I said. "That's how abusive relationships start."