Devon Blue

【Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ８．４】

It had a different feel to it when it was empty. It felt more mine this way. Like it was secret and quiet, still and safe, and my very own. I liked it more this way.

The emptiness of the auditorium gave me room to breathe. To not feel the pressure on my chest and the need to be out of my skin if only for a few minutes. I drop my bag right at the door before heading up the stairs and walking over to the piano. I sit down at the bench.

Home.

The only home I felt I had while I lived with my parents and brother before I left.

No eating disorders.

No anxiety.

No depression.

No bouts of throwing up.

No bullies.

No jokes about being fat.

No insecurities.

No anorexia.

When I was at this home, on this bench, at this Piano I was free and enough.

And as soon as my fingers touched the keys of this vintage piano the tears started to fall.

They fell harder and harder and soon my shoulders were shaking.

"I was wondering when you would come to say hello." He said before walking up to the other side of the piano to face me head-on. His hands were in his pockets and he was wearing a plaid bow tie.

I smiled through the tears.

"I'm here."

"About time Blue. I've missed you." He grabs a stool off toward the edge of the stage before setting it down in front of me and settles in.

Just as calm as ever.

"Me too," I whisper wiping my tears.

"Why did you call me Blue? Why give me that nickname. You always called me Devon before..." I leave it hanging in the air.

"Before you went to the hospital? Before your diagnosis?" He questions.

We've finally broached this. The subject. What had been going on since I started coming in to play music with Eli. No matter what instrument we would play or writing we did or conversations we had he never asked, and I never told.

As fucked up as it sounds it gave me a reprieve I so desperately needed. It didn't mean that I didn't face what was happening to me or process it in my own way.

As a matter of fact, I did.

I did it through music and through my songs, and lyrics. But the thing I loved most about coming here was that my problems could simply exist without being poked, prodded or analyzed. It was somewhere I could be imperfect and feel completely fine with that.

I would have been in way worse shape if I didn't have this place or Eli back then. My soul would have completely shattered.

"I was there. That day, I was there. Your parents called the school and all school officials were notified. I heard the message just as I stepped into the office after grabbing a cup of coffee. I heard a girl had overdosed and I knew you were that girl." He finishes sighing.

"How?" My voice is hoarse barely above a whisper.

"Call it god, divine intervention, luck." He shrugs as he folds his legs and leans to his left side on the stool.

"I don't believe in luck. It had to have been destiny." I shake my head and wipe my hands down the side of my pants.

"I do too. Which is why I had dropped my coffee then and there and ran to my car. I got to the hospital in ten minutes flat." He says seriously. He examines my face. Searching. Always.