Piano Man ⇨ Phan

~ three ~

    :third person; dan:

:;:

    THAT PHIL BOY had come everyday for a year now, but even with him and our regular customers, Marty couldn't afford keeping Dan around. Sad glances and choices cluttered his mind and Dan could tell his time was almost up. His heart always fluttered at all of the customer's stories, so not hearing them anymore would certainly have to be an adjustment Dan would make.

So when Marty walked up to him exactly a year after Phil started coming here, the news wasn't shocking, but that made it even more heartbreaking. Sorrow and anger flooded his mind, but his heart was even worse. The pain was nearly physical, and Dan couldn't even begin to consider working for another place.

Marty was already cleaning up and Dan felt like he should have just left. "I'll let you close one last time...I wouldn't even consider this but, Dan, money is running out, and so is your freedom." Marty told him; Dan facing the other way, but he could hear the frown Marty wore. His heart clenched as he stared at the piano that once was his home.

He promised himself he wouldn't cry - at least until he got home - but all of his feelings were prohibiting him from anything else. "Can I just play the piano without pay?" Dan asked, not caring for the money, but more of the customers and their stories...and the interest Phil gave Dan when he played. Dan wasn't one to become unfocused whilst playing his music, (in fact, he was quite the opposite) but when Phil was here all his attention seemed to fly towards the blue eyed boy.

They never spoke any words to each other since the first time they met, but the piano seemed to speak for them. Dan poured his heart and soul into the music he played, and, to Dan, Phil seemed to see that.

"I'm sorry, son, I'm giving away the piano too. There's a man a couple miles south who claims this is quite an antique. His money could help me get some new sponsors. Our alcohol brands aren't as good as they used to be." Marty sighed as he set down his dish rag behind to counter.

Dan nodded, hiding the pain that struck him deeply. To most people, a piano would be a worthless piece that could be pawned off to anyone for cash, but Dan's pure heart made the piano seem almost alive. Almost as if the object carried his past; a ghost of what reflected him and what was his happiness. And this piano seemed to be a whole haunted house.

But without the stuff that makes a house a home, it's only empty. That was how Dan felt.

The door slammed open and a familiar face kicked Dan out of his thoughts. "I'm here for the piano." the black haired boy demanded.