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His long fingers caressed over the cool keys of the piano standing in the centre of the room. A sliver of moonlight fell through the large windows in the otherwise only sparsely furnished room.
The Interview had gone overall well. It was just what the people were keen on hearing about, just what his agents would be pleased with. No snide remarks on his part or sarcastic answers that could have been interpreted as borderline insulting.
Then why had it left such a foul aftertaste on his tongue?
It definitely shouldn’t have.
One question. It has been this one question that had fell in between all the others that made him stop for only a fracture of a second. Nobody of the attending guests, the press, or even his agents noticed the change that caused it. How the collected, almost aloof appearing smile slightly slipped. How his proud and confident expression slightly dimmed despite his otherwise immaculate control over his emotions and facial reactions.
He knew that this question would come up eventually. And it shouldn’t be able to have that much of an effect on him, especially not having the power to elicit this much unwanted emotion and thought.
What happened in the past was supposed to stay there and not being able to worm its way into the present again. Not being capable of silently stealing into his thoughts, wrapping itself around his neck and make breathing hard.
This was not intended to ever happen. It had ruined his feeling of triumph. The self-satisfied floating that normally took over after one of his performances and made the night sweet replaced with an underlying restlessness. It ruined his mood having to confront that he hasn’t been able to let it go, to just forget about it.
His brother was long gone.
The press inquiring the origin of his inspiration should not evoke any kind of emotional response. It angered him having to admit it to himself, but it was undeniable.
Nobody knew much about the actual person behind the artist. So, it was impossible that the question had been asked as means in trying to dig into his background or that it was ill minded curiosity. As much as the public loved gossip and a tragic backstory, this was not the case.
But nevertheless, this incident had reopened an old scar that Nai had deemed long healed and forgotten. A scar he refused to look at with all his might. It was in the past. It should then also keep to the past.
He was a different person by now. Lost ties to what happened unable to restrain his stride forwards, towards his personal success.
It made his fingers itch, being indecisive about ignoring the cracked barrier and the want to rip it open to indulge in what had been ignored for so long.
The loss and the guilt that inevitably followed was wrapping its hot hands around his neck again. Feelings thought to be long lost. The intensity of them surprised and heavily irritated him at the same time.
Vash was gone. That was an unbending fact and grieving had nothing to serve him, nothing to draw any benefit from.
But this stance was not able to prevent the shards of memories making their way into his thoughts again.
The glistening sun burns the dry earth. Little to no shadow to hide in during the midday. Dust clouding where moments before a foot had touched down. They were running through the heat. He still felt the triumphant grin on his face, knowing that he is slightly faster, his little brother struggling to keep up with his long steps. Sharp turns. Laughing rings in his ears, fast coming breaths, and the crunch of sand beneath their flying feet.
“Stop!” a breathless voice behind him.
He was about to turn around to proudly pronounce himself the winner of their little competition when a coughing fit replaced the exhausted breathing.
Scrunching his brows together at the sound, “Are you alright?”
“Yes, yes. It’s just the dust from running behind you.” Answered the blond child with a slightly strained smile. Trying to keep a bright face but it felt off, kind of forced.
“Have you waited for me, Nai?” he entered, grinning widely.
“Took you long enough,” he replies, already sitting on the bench in front of the piano. His face is a little grumpy, but the small crease between his furrowed eyebrows smoothing out immediately as the other sits down beside him.
“I know, I’m sorry!” he answered with a vibrant smile still radiating. “But I’ll let you choose what we play to make up for it.”
They both turn towards the book opened on the stand at a random page starting to flip through it, still bickering what piece of music would be best.
It is the end of summer. Both of them sitting with their backs against the rough bark of a tree and looking into the lush green of their surroundings. It was already late in the day and the sun began its descend towards the horizon. The clouds are doused in a slight pink dust, complimenting the deep red of the geraniums growing throughout the meadow. A light breeze whisks away some of their petals carrying them along for some moments before they drop again.
“I wish the summer would never end.”
“That’s stupid, it’s impossible to keep autumn and winter away.” He answered with a snort.
“I’m aware, but let me at least wish for it”, he laughed back. His eyes drifting contently towards the far sky. He started humming this melody again, that slipped out of him every now and then. Nai liked it but of course wouldn’t tell him so. There was no need to. Maybe he would one day when they thought back to these summer moments.
He closes his eyes, hands behind his head. His little brother once again wished for the impossible, but that seemed to be just the kind of person he is.
The light chirping of the crickets and a slight ruffle through the leaves of the tree can be heard. Next to him Vash’s quiet breathing. The quiet rhythm suddenly stutters a bit. He opens his eyes immediately glancing towards the other.
Vash holds his hand in front of his mouth, hunched over to try and contain his cough.
Unsure what to do he starts patting his shoulder in a helpless attempt to comfort the other.
“Are you alright?” His eyebrows furrowing.
“Just a little cough, no problem.” The other blond says as soon as the cough shaking his body subsided enough. He wiped his mouth and smiled. There was a tiny speck of red of red in the corner of the others mouth, but he wasn’t sure if he just imagined it.
“You sure?”
“Yes, no worries, really.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
A dark sound. Cutting through the silence of the unlight room. Nai’s fingered had slipped. An angered expression appeared on his features.
The bottled-up memories resurfacing ruined this moonlight night. The lonely light refracted in his eyes as he made his way over to the windows.
There was a time when he hadn’t sat alone in front of the piano. It was a time of shared joy and frustration about small hands struggling to press the perfect key at just the right moment on the grand instrument. Together they complemented one another. If one was missing an inch of reach, the other would be present filling the void.
The first time sitting alone on the piano stool was one of the moments of repeated realization. His heart sitting heavy in his chest.
Despite his hands having grown he struggled more than ever. He knew the piece perfectly well, had played it seamlessly countless times, but now it was incoherent. Not only missing its usual melody, but he also failed to get all the keys right. It was a broken song. The natural lightness of his play, the easiness was missing just the same as the presence of another set of hands, a warming side next to him.
It took a while after that to get back to playing.
Now, something like that would not happen. Or at least that was what Nai had thought.
The reporter asking about the inspiration behind his new piece, only presented to the public this very evening, shouldn’t have been surprising by any means. It was a predictable question to be asked when a rising star presented a new, grand piece of art at one of their rare concerts.
He had been completely entranced, caught up in his own world his vision and emotion flowing freely during this part of the performance. They were touching what harboured in his soul abstractly without a conscious look at what was hidden.
As much as Nai actually disliked the fact, this piece, this melody meant a lot to him. For a long time, he kept it deeply buried within but a crouching fear of forgetting had eventually urged him to put it down on paper.
The melody from his memory became the core from which more and more grew like the branches of a tree reaching further and stretching upon the vast sky.
It still took some time contemplating if he should include this unusual personal piece into his repertoire or if it was better to keep it close and let nobody steal a glance of it. Eventually he said fuck it, nobody knows about me anyway, how would these ignorant people connect anything anyway.
And it was true.
It wasn’t that anyone had asked if this piece was connected to his tragically dead brother or if that was his way of dealing with his lingering memories. They hadn’t and would not even come close to the idea of asking such a thing as Nai was making sure to keep all matters private that did not concern his career. And he planned of keeping it this way.
It still took him off guard being again confronted with the motive of his work.
Even though none of the people in the room took notice of the slight change in the pianist’s demeanour, it was almost as if the air had changed for him that very moment. Like a cold sensation running down his spine and spreading through his limbs until the very tips of his fingers.
Nothing followed that change. No shocking revelation. No passive aggressive ending of the interview as it had happened in the past before when he deemed a reporter’s questions inappropriate. No successful digging into his well kept past.
But creating and publishing his piece finally enabled him to play with Vash again, sharing their love for the black and white keys, the melodies flowing through the space and the burning ambition for improving further and further.
It was almost as if he could just turn around a little and see that vibrant smile right next to him again.