Piano Man ⇨ Phan

~ one ~

:first person; dan:

MUSIC WAS A DISTRACTION. It was my mask from the real world, and each note was its own chapter. But when you played a song, you got a whole story. It was a guilty pleasure; an addiction, and I loved it. The fun was in the keys, notes, and songs, and they were so easy to get lost in.

I had been playing songs on the piano ever since I was seven. The music would block out the real world, and the empty and dull voice of my mother yelling at my dad for all of his broken promises. He tore her heart, and I was the only person who kept it from breaking.

But when high school came around, she finally snapped, and music became my only family member. So, when my mom's closest friend, Marty, offered me a job to work at his bar and play the piano, I immediately took the opportunity.

But many years had passed since then, and nothing much had changed, the town was still small, and Marty still had a bar, and I still played the piano. My favourite part of the job were all of the customers and their stories. As a person who worked there for nearly a decade, there were a lot of regulars who visited.

The walls of the bar was a library, and every one inside was a book. They wouldn't tell me their stories personally, but the looks their eyes gave me could say a lot. But one particular pair of eyes held a whole other galaxy.

:;:

IT WAS A LATE WEDNESDAY evening, about the time of night where we would start to close up the bar, and only a few of our regulars were there, and I sat in the corner, as always, my fingers ghosting over the piano's keys. Marty was over at the bar, an old dish rag in his hand, swiping the bar, but focusing more on the old man in front of him.

"I remember the first time I came here, the same boy was in the same corner, with the same piano, but not playing a song...what can I get to make you play a song?" the man asked, my attention directing to him.

Nothing. I was about to say, when a thought popped into my head. "Tell me a story," I thought. "Something; a memory that you'll remember for the rest of your life."

Another regular, Caspar, I believe, turned his head, curiosity bubbling in his eyes. The old man thought for a while, his dull brown eyes lighting up when he found the story. "Young man, you got yourself a deal." he chuckled, wrinkles filling the corners of his squinted eyes.

"It was the summer of '45, I was merely fifteen, when I visited a carnival. This carnival came to our town we stand in today. My friend and I were on a roller coaster when I saw a beautiful young lady, around our age. She had long, straight, black hair, pale skin. My heart raced, and I realised that I had fallen in love with a girl I hadn't even met. Once we got down, off the ride, I ran off to find her. I never did find her that day, but a couple days later, I heard a beautiful voice, I followed the sound of it, and there she was..." his eyes glistened, giddy tears began to fall. "We eventually married, but she fell ill, and left me with only memories and a tombstone." hot tears fell from his face, but they weren't sad tears, happiness held a blurred line with nostalgia, and I knew it was my turn to show my part of the deal.

For a moment, my thoughts raced searching for the right melody; a soft one, that could put a baby to rest, but I would need to rest his sadness for his wife instead of a newborn. I hit the notes, falling into my own trance as my fingers danced across the instrument.

The tune was soft and gentle; lightly harmonising with the whispers of the cool wind that was locked outside of this building. But my mind was set on playing a song that related to his story. The calming melody echoed through the empty streets, only ghosts of memories able to pick up on the haunting song.

Or so I thought.

The bell of the entrance rang, but my mind ignored the guest. This sensitive notes required all of my attention, and no one was going to let me slip away from this piano and its stories.

As the melody finished, silence filled the room once more, besides the sniffles of the old man. I turned to see who came in, and there stood a boy, black hair and crystal blue eyes. I tried to look through him, see his story, but when he looked back at me, a fallen planet was what looked back.

He was lost, but his eyes flickered with the slightest bit of hope when they met mine. My heart was racing, and it wasn't cause the audience that formed in the piano's wake, it was the fact that the boy who's eyes met mine had a whole other world look through, and my curiosity wouldn't say no to an adventure in finding that world.

"Welcome to Marty's." I smiled, genuinely wanting him to feel welcome.

Welcome to my world.