Chick Under Red Lips (A-Z)

B is for Broken Strings (2)

You can't play on broken strings;
you can't feel anything that your heart don't want to feel,
I can't tell you something that ain't real.

🌷

(Miya)

When I let myself into the car, I realized that I made the mistake, unlike Zilong, of continuing to believe in miracles.

I watched the cold, eerie city lights give way to the shadows of the suburbs. At home, I often played the game of not turning on the lights until the very last minute. I loved that moment of transition between light and dark, and the textures of light and shade. I had learned that if I remained quite still, something surprising might swim up out of the spaces in my head. Sometimes only a fleeting thought. Sometimes a revelation or a conclusion. It's chief element was of surprise and I found myself increasingly craving the delight of discovery. It was the moment to consider peace, happiness, expectation...but, lately, I suppose, to reflect on a certain, creeping restlessness and a growing sense that it was time for a change.

Alucard cleared his throat—I recognized the signal—and began talking about his projects of the moment, and the controversial contract that he confirmed to fall into his hands. When I didn't bother to answer, he sighed. “Sorry if I didn't get you any present for tonight, Miya. But I want you to know that I thought of you all day even though I'm so busy with fan meets.”

“Uh-huh. Since when did I demand a gift anyway?” I said dryly. His presence could have been enough but he's not the same Alu as before.

“I'll buy you a car so that you won't have to commute whenever you want to go out.” he tried cheering me up as he must have noticed my cold treatment.

I just scoffed and declined the offer, I had not wished him to spend too much money on me. “You don't have to. I like to commute, it's a form of exercise and I don't want to learn how to drive.”

“Is that right? Okay, I'll be the one to teach you then, once I'm done with my recording. Right now my schedule is full but please, don't be mad at me. This is all for you, for us. You're going to have an international singer boyfriend,” he says as he turned to me, “how does that sound like?”

“Okay,” I answered. “Look at the road, Alu, not at me.”

“Well?”

I was thinking of the days when my energy had been devoted to Alucard's showbiz life and objectives and wondering why I did not feel the same. His first song was dedicated to me, he wrote that as a poem back in college when he has yet to confess his feelings for me. I was his first love and I've fell inlove with his style, he got my heart through his charming voice and the way he played the guitar. I still loved him, although sometimes ripples of irritation and exasperation makes me forget I did—but that was relationship is about. Our lives still held many possibilities.

“Miya? Do you agree with what I'm doing?”

“I don't think my opinion stands much of a chance,” I replied while my eyes remained on the road, not giving him a chance to see how badly disappointed I am. “I don't think people always want to be told what is good for them.”

“So, I'm on my own on this one?” he asked as his voice falters, his tone had hinted annoyance. “Fair enough.”

Three minutes or so later, he nosed the car on the side of the road, coming to a full stop.

“Why did you stop? Is there a problem with the engine?” I unsnapped my seatbelt and got ready to jump out of the car. When I looked at him, he just stares at the steering wheel with lips set on a thin line.