Monday, February 15, 2010

Across The Universe

February 14th, 1976


Dear Jonny,

Well it's that day of the year again. Yes, you guessed it. Today is Valentine's Day. It seems surreal that this much time has passed already. I am not sure you remember how long it has been, since I am not exactly sure what you are up to these days. Something far too interesting for you to bother to remember about little old me I am sure. But that's okay, you deserve to enjoy yourself. You have been through so much, haven't you? More than you would ever tell me about. Anyways, if you care to take a trip down memory lane, I can provide the acid. Hah hah, just kidding. We already tried that back in '66. Certainly you remember that. When you saw a whale swimming in our pool, you vowed never to do it again.

I am losing my train of thought. I'm sorry, I know you have always said I should ramble less. Or is it me who says that? I don't know. But anyways, here is a little refresher. One year ago today, I received your last letter. Maybe I should just quote it for you. I am sure I have somewhere around here. Yes, I do have it. It is still under my pillow, how could I have forgotten? I don't know how I manage myself without you. But I suppose in this letter I do have a piece of you with me. And I also suppose I should write it out for you now. Here is what you wrote. Does it ring a bell?



Feb. 14th, 1975


Dear Chris,

Happy Valentine's Day. I hope this arrives on time. I would hate for you to think I forgot about this special day .I'm sorry I have no gift for you, as I am sure you are aware, but I hope this letter will be enough. I just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me. It is thoughts of you and only you which keep me going in this terrible place.

Sometimes, and don't freak out when I say this, when I wake up in my cot to the sound of gunfire and men screaming and shouting, I consider giving up, accepting defeat. I think how it would feel to get a gun in my hand and aim it at my own head. But then your face flashes in front of my eyes. Your beautifully sculpted face, with angel's eyes. And then I see that same face contort into a grimace; I see those eyes fill up with tears. And I feel my heart jump and beat life back into my bones. And I know that I've got to keep going, if just to see you again and to keep you happy.

And did I tell you? There is talk about a pull out. I am sure you have heard that funding is slowly being cut off. But this is still quite sudden. Not one of us expected to get out so early. I think of the civilians we will leave behind, but I must say with all honesty that I couldn't care less. Because in about forty days or so, a helicopter will get us the fuck out of here and I will be able to hold you in my arms again. I'll see you soon, my love.

-Jonathon


In the next letter I sent you, I told you how much that meant to me. But who knows if you ever got it? I doubt it. I don't think it was even delivered to the correct place. So I will tell you again in this one. That letter meant the world to me. Knowing just how much you cared, it filled me with the greatest of joys. And I hope you will be filled with an equal amount of joy when you read my reaction to it.

But once again, I don't expect much. Who knows what kinds of exciting things you do in your daily routine now. Surely it is far more interesting than a pathetic thin man in a ratty old bathrobe, writing to you from his bedroom in the house he shares with no one. I know I promised I'd move on if things turned out like this. I am sorry that it has been nearly a year since that day and yet that promise remains unfulfilled. But after I send this to you, I think I can finally begin to keep it. I just needed to say goodbye.

So here it is. Goodbye Jonathon Buckland. I have always loved you. I love you even as I write this, and I can guarantee that in the future I will feel the same, even after I've moved on. Every day, I stare at your hat and am filled with affection for you. Oh, and I'm sorry, but I threw out the pocket knife. I just couldn't bear to look at it. It reminded me of.....well I'm sure you know. I don't have to tell you what happened do I? I'd rather not dwell on that anyways. Not for another couple of weeks, that is.

But you can be assured that on March 1st I will weep for you. That is nothing new, nor unexpected I'm sure. You must have known it would be like this. I hope you don't feel bad about it, because I don't blame you. It wasn't your fault. I know you tried your hardest. It could have happened to anybody. I'm sure it probably did happen to many others. But that doesn't change how much it hurts, how much I wish I could wrap my arms around you just one more time, or even see your face.

But a letter is what I what I have, and a letter is what I will have to make do with. I hope you can make do with one too. I hope in this measly letter I can express the amount of love I feel for you. And the amount of longing I have deep inside to be with you now. But I will carry on, for your sake. You wouldn't want me to be unhappy. And I am sure you'd rather I didn't join you where you are. I'll abide to your wishes. But be warned, I might just get there eventually. I hope so. Put in a good word for me, eh?

Love, Chris

Chris folded the letter and placed it in an envelope. He smiled complacently down at it. Slowly, he rose from his old wooden desk chair. He leaned down and lightly kissed the hat sitting lazily on the desk's surface. Then he picked up the letter and walked down the hall and to the main room with a purpose.

He stood in front of the fireplace. A fire was already blazing brightly in it, started a few hours before. Chris glanced out the window. It was dusk, and it was snowing. He figured this was a good atmosphere. He looked down once more at the crisp white envelope in his hand. He swallowed, and fixated his gaze on the flames. They would be his messengers tonight.

Slowly, tenderly, he leaned down and reached his hand out towards the fire. But his hand never touched the raging flames, the letter did. Chris watched intently as it blackened and smoldered. Tears came to his eyes as he watched the grey ashes float gently up through the chimney. A successful mailing. Wiping the tears away, he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Jonny."
THE END

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Roll Over Beethoven

Chapter 1

Jonny figured he must be very lucky. It is not every day you wander the halls of your college and meet your life long partner, both musically and otherwise. But that is just how it happened for Jonny. His last class had ended over an hour ago. The evening light was becoming more and more scarce and the halls were nearly empty. Jonny, books in hand, was in no hurry. The most he ever did on a Friday night was settle down in his dorm room with a bowl of popcorn and watch movies.

When he heard the first notes drift in from some place further down the endless stretch of hall, he thought it was his imagination going wild. But as he kept walking, the sound grew louder and closer. Soon the chords were practically hitting him in the face, demanding he listen to the sweet sounds they created when played with skilled hands.

Jonny followed the music involuntarily. Like a strong breeze did with leaves, the sounds swept him along until he found himself at a door. Beyond this door, Jonny knew, was the source of the tune that so enticed him. He opened it just a crack, hoping the musician inside wouldn't notice.

He needn't have worried about that. As he peered through the small opening, the man at the piano was in his own world. He sat at the stool, his body arched over the instrument in a beautiful way. His long fingers leapt and skipped about the keys with more grace than a professional dancer could ever manage. Sweat formed on his brow and dripped down his face as he increased his concentration. The chords came out more powerfully every time and struck Jonny with stronger and stronger blows of strikingly beautiful noise.

Standing there, Jonny gaped. His eyes were wide as saucers and his books were slowly slipping out of his grasp. It was all he could to do pull himself away from the breathtaking scene before him. It was fear that finally snapped him out of it. The last thing he wanted this man to know was that he had been watching him. As quietly as he could manage, he slipped away and stumbled down the hall in a daze. He nearly slammed into a teacher on his way, presumably a music teacher, because she entered the room where the man was.

Once she had disappeared behind the door Jonny broke into a sprint and did not stop until he was inside his dorm room. He collapsed onto his couch gasping for breath. He had hoped the running would clear his head. But thoughts of the nameless man at the piano consumed him. And not just for the evening.

The images of the man and the beautiful music he created stayed with Jonny all through the weekend and into the following week. He forgot books, missed classes, and failed tests all because of it. It nagged at him until he could take it no longer, and he knew what he had to do.

He made sure to pass by the same room on the next Friday evening. And the next Friday, and the next one after that. Every time, the man was still there with the piano, compelling it to emit beautiful sounds that Jonny found awe-inspiring at every occasion. It got to such a point that Jonny truly only stayed in college to ensure that he would still hear the man play week after week.

Before long, Jonny had to admit to himself that he loved this unknown man. It was crazy that he should love someone who he'd never met, or even knew by name. But the music the man played and the way that he played told Jonny everything he need to know about him. He was enthusiastic, he was passionate, he was determined.

Often he was unsure of himself and would stop right in the middle and slam his hands down with a horrible clang of keys. But some words of encouragement from the teacher would soon bring him out of his musical stupor and soon tunes would once again flow out like fast moving rivers from underneath his fingertips.

Jonny found himself wishing he could be the person to give the man the encouragement he so frequently required. Eventually, and out of pure good fortune from Jonny's viewpoint, he did get that chance. And it all started with a flyer.


Chapter 2

It was a typical Friday evening for Jonny. He crept quietly down the corridor, peered in cautiously through a small opening in the door and watched the man who had long ago caught his eye play the piano like a true musician. Jonny could sense that the session was coming to a close, and he prepared himself to leave before being discovered.

As he was about to make his escape he noticed the teacher pick up a bright orange flyer from her desk and hand it to Chris. She said some things that he couldn't make out and he nodded. His face was completely expressionless. She pat him on the back and he stood to leave.

Jonny knew he should go be he couldn't make his feet move. His eyes were glued to the piano man. Jonny noticed he was tall, like he was. He completely forgot his original intentions and just stared until the man was at the door and opening it.

Startled back into reality, Jonny tried to make his getaway but knew it was no use. The man had locked his large and beautifully blue eyes with his own. Jonny swallowed nervously and took a step back. The man grinned widely, clearly amused. "So did you enjoy the show?" he asked with a spark of laughter in his eyes.

"Yes....very much," stuttered Jonny in reply.

"Good. Because that was the last," he said with a nod of the head and an impassive tone.

"Wha-what? Why?" Panic consumed him. He could not lose this man and his music.

"My teacher," he nonchalantly replied, gesturing towards the room "thinks I need to move on to bigger and better things. She is crazy. I am just a mediocre pianist, not a professional musician. But she says she won't give me the room anymore. Not unless I enter this."

He pulled out the neon flyer from his pants pocket and held it in front of Jonny's face. In bold letters it read Do YOU have what it takes to be the next great pianist? Then sign up for Roll Over Beethoven, a contest where young musicians will battle it out to earn the title of modern Beethoven!

"Isn't it ridiculous?" he asked.

"No, not at all," replied Jonny with a rush. He was captured by the man's eyes. Courageously he continued on. "I have a confession. I have been coming here to watch and listen to you play for quite a while now." Chris looked completely shocked but didn't say anything. So Jonny kept on going. "I think you are very, very talented. You should enter that contest. I mean, I'm just an observer, but I really think you could win!"

The man looked skeptical, but after some consideration his face lit up. "You really think that?"

Jonny nodded. "Um...well I guess I should be on my way now." He lowered his head to disguise his reddening cheeks. But this man was observant.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I don't mind knowing that you've been watching me. It's sort of like a compliment if you think about it." He grinned again. Jonny found that more than his music was beguiling. His good-natured attitude was captivating as well, and Jonny couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, why don't I go back to your place with you? Surely you don't have any plans, or you wouldn't be here every week. And I've got nothing to do either."

Jonny concluded that luck must have been on his side, and he didn't hesitate to allow the man to follow him back to his room. But he did have one condition. "Okay....you can hang out with me. But you have to tell me your name first. I am Jonny."

"Well I'm Chris!" he said gleefully. "Now let's go!"

Jonny had to laugh. This man, who he now knew was named Chris, was so bold. Jonny hoped he could be that way someday.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The two men sat on Jonny's couch. There was a long moment of awkward silence as Chris scanned Jonny's dorm room. His eyes stopped on something hanging from one of the walls. "You have a guitar!?" he exclaimed.

"Um...yeah."

"So can you play or what!?"

"I guess so." He shrugged.

"Play something!" he enthused, his eyes shining.

"I don't know, I'm really not that good."

"Oh no you don't! You've been watching me play for weeks now. Don't you think I deserve to see you play just once?" His mouth transformed into something like a pout and he made a whining noise like a little child. Jonny nearly doubled over with laughter.

"Okay, okay! I will play a little something." He took the guitar down from its place on the wall and held it with care. Nervously, he began to move his fingers about the strings, strumming out chords.

Jonny knew Chris was watching him intently with those lovely eyes of his, but instead of making him apprehensive it encouraged him. He began to play with more ease, and he could hear the notes stretching themselves out, finding room to breathe and spreading throughout the room. He played for several minutes before finally setting the guitar down.

"What song was that?" Chris questioned, looking amazed.

"Um...well I just made that up just now."

"No way man!" Now Chris was truly astounded. "That's just amazing! You've got talent!"

Jonny blushed and lowered his eyes. "Thanks" he whispered. "But I'm really not that great."

"Nonsense! Your playing, it's just given me a great idea for a new piano piece." He winked. "You can hear it next week when you drop by. But Jonny, this time you came open the door all of the way, and come on in." He smiled hugely and headed for the door. "I am going to get back, to work on my new tune. I'll see you next week, friend."


Chapter 3

It was another Friday, another music session, another opportunity for Jonny to be dumbfounded by Chris's talent. But this time he wasn't staring open mouthed from the doorway. He was sitting on one side of the small music room, while Chris played on the other.

He had been earnestly pressing on the keys for nearly ten minutes now. This time, the melody meandered along like an ancient river. Every little twist and turn added a little something new to a tune that Jonny was always sure couldn't get any better. But he was always wrong.

There were a few more minutes of beautiful music and stupefied looks from Jonny, then Chris laid out the last chords underneath his fingers and sat up straight on the stool. He gazed at Jonny nervously and shifted back and forth in his seat. Jonny assumed he was waiting for some sort of response from him. It took him a moment or two to remember how to work his vocal chords, but he finally managed to get the words out.

"Chris.....that was utterly amazing. I don't know what else to say. I'm.....flabbergasted."

"Flabbergasted?" Chris nearly fell off his seat laughing. "You are a funny, funny man Jonny." With effort, he regained his composure. "It's so kind that you will say these things about my music. I know it isn't as good as you say. But thank you anyways."

Jonny stared at Chris a moment, wondering if his head was on straight. "I'm being completely serious." He stared briefly at the floor. "You came up with all of this......from what you heard me play?"

"Yep" responded Chris cheerily. "You are so inspiring Jonny-boy!"

"What did you just call me?" he asked, trying to conceal his laughter.

"Jonny-boy. I thought it sounded cute! Do you mind?"

Jonny rolled his eyes and laughed. "I don't mind. Call me whatever your messed up heart desires."

Chris smiled and stood. His face contorted into an odd expression. Jonny watched him with amusement as he began to pace around the room. He hummed an anxious little tune as he did so. He was completely immersed in his thoughts. After a few minutes he abruptly turned his bright blue eyes to Jonny.

"Jonny, how would you feel about coming here every Friday? I mean I know you already do, but I mean... like....um....sit in here every week, not just at the door? Maybe.....maybe with.....your guitar?"

"My guitar? Why?"

Chris blushed and shuffled his feet. "It seems that I compose a lot better when I hear you play."

Again, Jonny reasoned that Chris was probably wanting some sort of reply from him. But this time he couldn't manage it. He just stared at him until Chris became nervous watching him and rattled off some more words. "I mean, I know that's probably like really, really weird and all, but it's true. It is definitely true. As soon as you started playing, these ideas just rushed to my head, and I couldn't wait to get them out. It was the strangest thing that's ever happened to me. But in a good way, not a bad way. If that makes any sense."

"Chris," Jonny finally said, nearly laughing, "it's okay. I don't think that's weird. What you said did make sense. I just have a hard time believing it. I never thought what I played was anything special. But I am completely flattered that you think so. And I would like very much to play my guitar here every Friday, if that is what will allow me to hear something as breathtaking as what you played tonight."

"Good. Then it's a date," he replied with a chuckle. Jonny's heart skipped a beat. It would be lovely for him if it really were. But there was no way he was going to push his luck. No, he would be content with being friends. It was already more than he had ever hoped for.


Chapter 4

The next Friday Jonny rushed to his dorm directly after his final class, instead of lingering behind. He nearly had about a dozen or so serious accidents on the way there. But he somehow remained unscathed as he entered his room, breathing heavily. He gingerly removed his guitar from its spot on the wall and rushed back to the music room as quickly as he could without risking harm befalling to the instrument.

Despite his hurried pace, Chris was already in the room when he got there and looked as though he had been for some time now. He was concentrating heavily on his playing, and Jonny could see that a few drops of sweat had begun to form on his brow. It didn't appear that he was even aware of Jonny's arrival.

Jonny didn't mind the lack of recognition. He just stood there watching, waiting, and enjoying the show. The minutes ticked by, and eventually Chris did look up from the keys to give Jonny a lopsided smile. "Sorry, I was waiting for you to say something." Apparently he had recognized Jonny's presence.

"Oh....sorry." Jonny returned the smile as best as he could. "How long have you been here?"

"A while," he replied with a guilty smile. "I got this tune in my head, and I couldn't let it slip away." He frowned at the piano. "But I'm not quite sure where to go with it now. So I'm glad you're here."

Jonny worried Chris might be tiring of his use of smiles as responses, but he just couldn't find the right words. So he smiled yet again and sat down in a stool on the other side of the room. He positioned his guitar in his arms and hesitantly began to play a string of chords. The sounds sounded weak at first, but as Jonny's confidence in himself grew, so did the strength of what he played. Soon he fell into a kind of trance, fingering out a pattern of chords that pleased him and which gave off a certain air of confidence that could not be ignored by any listener.

Chris watched him intently. He studied his finger movements and the expressions Jonny made while he played. He nodded as if giving approval, and after a few minutes his eyes grew suddenly wider. He bent down and began to vigorously press on the black and white keys. The two instruments played together sounded a bit off at first, but before long the piano and the guitar were perfectly in sync with each other. Emerging from the two men was a medley that would make even the harshest music critics stop and listen. For nearly an hour they sat at or with their respective instruments, collaborating their talents.

They both somehow knew the exact place to end, and their last chords echoed out unanimously and beautifully. Then they turned to each other, a pair of blue eyes and a pair of green ones, both expressing awe and wonder at the other. Chris was the first one to speak.

"Wow," he said, "it's like we're soul mates or something!"

He laughed at his own joke and Jonny couldn't help but join in, even though a large part of him wished Chris had been serious. Because that is what he truly believed. After playing with Chris today, Jonny was positive that he and Chris were meant to be together despite how silly it sounded. He had never been one to believe in such things as fate, and he supposed that he still didn't, not really. But he felt like Chris was definitely the person he should spend the rest of his life with in some way, even if not in a way that Jonny found ideal.

Jonny was abruptly pulled away from his musings when Chris magically teleported in front of him, a ridiculous smile on his face. "I am so glad that I suggested this," he remarked. "I have never felt so inspired before!"

"That is good," Jonny responded shyly. "I was inspired by you too. You know, I had hardly ever picked up my guitar for a long time before you came to hang out. But once you did, and got me to start playing, I haven't wanted to stop since. In a way it's scary. But I am glad it's like this now."

Jonny accepted that this was likely as close as he would ever get to giving a love confession. He reminded himself that he didn't need that to be happy. As long as he could be around Chris in some way, in some sort of a relationship, even if only one between friends, than that was fine with him.

But as Chris's eyes lit up in reply to Jonny's words and Jonny caught his gaze, there was a part of him that denied this. He wondered if he truly could live his whole life remaining just friends with this man, who had become a part of his life as quickly as a spark is thrown from a raging fire and who was far more incredible than the colorful light it produced.


Chapter 5

A pattern quickly developed between them. A long jam session would ensue every Friday evening. A short chat with an exchange of laughs and smiles would follow, and then the two men would go their separate ways until next week. Both parties were fully content with this arrangement.

Actually, both Jonny and Chris were more than content. They were happy. Jonny felt elated whenever he was around Chris, and there was not a doubt in his mind that this was love. The entirety of the week would drag on and on until finally the horrible tension was relieved by an hour or so of melding his guitar together with Chris's piano.

Chris felt similar things about Jonny. But he associated it with a close bond of friendship, rather than something more. Jonny was fully aware of this, and he carried on as best as he could with that fact constantly hanging above his head.

The tradition carried on for five weeks in very much the same way. But on the sixth week, things went a little differently. On Thursday, Jonny had a bit more time that he usually did between classes, so he ambled down the halls slowly. He passed by a large activity board completely covered in papers. He wouldn't have given it more than a passing glance if it wasn't for one neon orange paper that stuck out among hundreds of white ones.

At first look, Jonny thought it was the same paper that Chris had shown him weeks ago. But it was slightly different. This one had a bunch of lines at the bottom, presumably for people's signatures. Jonny scrolled through the list of participants, all with various styles of handwriting. As he reached the last of the names, he frowned. Chris's name was nowhere on the list. Jonny couldn't believe he hadn't signed up yet. He clenched his jaw and continued down the hall, determined that tomorrow he would get Chris to enter the contest.

And now here they were on Friday, just looking at each other. Chris had played for a bit, but had soon realized that Jonny wasn't playing along with him. Instead, he had just been sitting there, staring. So Chris stared back, not out of irritation but out of confusion. After many minutes of awkward silence Jonny at last decided on the best thing to say.

"Chris, I saw another flyer for that contest. I looked at all of the people who were signed up for it; you weren't one of them. Why?"

Chris laughed nervously, trying to make light of the situation. He had never seen Jonny like this before and didn't know how to react. "I told you, I'm not good enough for that thing."

"But...but I thought you entered it," Jonny said stupidly. "Didn't your music teacher say that she wasn't going to give you the room anymore unless you entered?"

"Yeah, haven't you noticed that she hasn't been around? She just doesn't know I still come here I guess." His face lit up. "But that doesn't matter, because I have you now!"

"So.....I'm just the teacher's replacement then?" Chris didn't pick up on Jonny's increasingly agitated tone.

"Sort of," he replied cheerily.

"So I suppose you can find another replacement easily," he responded coldly.

Chris finally caught the edge to Jonny's tone. His eyes grew wide. "Wait what? No Jonny I didn't mean it like that!"

"It sounded an awful lot like you did," he mumbled, disconcerted.

"No," he said quietly. "Jonny, no one could replace you. No music teacher could inspire me like you do."

"Thank you," Jonny replied just as quietly. "But Chris, I think there are some things we need to talk about."

Chris shifted his eyes about the room nervously. He tapped his fingers on the piano's top. He swung his feet back and forth over the stool. He did not like the sound of this. He was horribly afraid that he might lose Jonny forever.

Trying to lighten his tone, Jonny added , "Why don't we go out somewhere for some dinner? We can talk then. Besides, we've never done anything together away from this jail of a place before. I think it's time to take the next step up as friends." He smiled and tried to laugh. It sounded awful to his own ears, but Chris seemed to find it uplifting. He returned Jonny's smile with a much larger one and stood immediately.

"I know a really great place we can go. Well at least it looks great whenever I pass by it. I've never actually been inside it before." He rubbed the back of his head and his face turned red. "Truthfully, you're the only on-campus friend I have. And I didn't have any close friends before college either."

"Neither did I."



Chapter 6

The table was small, the chairs were small, the portions were small, the entire establishment was small. But it was small in a good way. It had a cozy feel to it. It was the kind of place that drew people in. As a result, the restaurant was packed with people. This made it seem even smaller. Chris didn't mind this at all, he actually enjoyed all of the people. Jonny, on the other hand, was very uncomfortable.

He shifted in his seat and the closeness of the situation made him terrified to make eye contact with Chris. He was starting to think that this had been a bad idea. But there was no going back now. Besides, he knew that Chris needed to hear this. He cleared his throat and Chris looked at him expectantly and with a certain amount of apprehension.

"Chris, you need to hear something. But more importantly, you need to believe it when you hear it. You are an absolutely amazing pianist. Your talent is almost beyond actual words. Every time you sit down and play, you take my breath away. And I am sure that other people would have the same reaction. That is why you are going to enter that contest. As your friend, I can't let you waste this opportunity."

"That's very kind of you Jonny. But I know me, I know how I am. At most, I am marginally above average. The others who have signed up are professional musicians and true musical prodigies. There's no point in fighting a losing battle." He shrugged as if to say the discussion was closed. But Jonny would not, could not, except that. He was unwavering in his belief that Chris was highly skilled and had the potential to accomplish great things in the music world. Jonny felt this contest could be the first step towards a musical career for Chris.

He leaned in close to Chris's face until their noses were almost touching. "Listen here Chris," he said between clenched teeth. You are just s good as all of those other people and probably better. This is a great opportunity for you! You really could make music your career! I know how much you love it. And I know you would be ecstatic if you got to play music for a living,. You would be playing all of the time, and that would make you incredibly happy. Which would, in return, make me incredibly happy. So please do this, at least for me. Please leave that cramped and sweat inducing old music room behind and move on to something better. Because you are worth it."

Chris was speechless. Jonny almost let a smug smile sneak onto his face. He knew he had won. His words had impacted Chris deeply, and it showed. For there was hardly ever a time where Chris wasn't speaking, with the exception of his time at the piano. But finally, the man managed to utter a response, although weakly.

"Wow," he mumbled, sounding slightly disoriented. "That's...wow." Jonny chuckled. It was quite nice to see that he wasn't the only one who had problems finding the right words. "Jonny.....just....I don't even know. Thank you. Thank you so much."

Jonny was taken aback when he looked to Chris with the intention of smiling in his direction, and noticed that Chris's eyes were becoming wet. Chris noticed the shocked expression on Jonny's face and quickly apologized. "Sorry, sorry. I know I'm being such a little boy right now. But nobody has ever given me that many compliments in my entire lifetime and you gave them all in one conversation."

Jonny crossed his arms and nodded. "You're welcome. You deserve them."

Chris narrowed his eyes at Jonny, scrutinizing him. "And you seriously think I should participate in this competition?"

Jonny tried not to roll his eyes, he really did. He used every bit of his willpower. But this man was just so incorrigible that the ceiling was suddenly the most interesting architectural specimen there was. "Christopher Martin, haven't I made myself clear to you yet? I don't think you should participate, I know you should."

"Jonny, will you stand up for a second please," asked Chris, as he stood himself.

"Um....sure?" He stood hesitantly. Suddenly, he was being embraced by two long, well toned arms. His eyes widened and he almost gasped out loud. He felt his heart speed up and prayed that nobody could hear it pounding. After a few seconds of an experience that was both pure torture and pure heaven at the same time, Chris finally released his grip and sat back down.

"Jonny-boy, I will. I will sign up for the competition. BUT," he added, pointing one long index finger in Jonny's face, "I have one condition."

Jonny folded his hands on the table and playfully responded "State your terms."

"You have to help me practice. And you have to be there when I perform."

"Technically those were two conditions. But then again, they are hardly conditions at all. They are more like givens. Of course I will."



Chapter 7

There were two weeks until the competition. Jonny was sure that Chris could walk into the contest with absolutely no additional practice and still win easily. But Jonny was not Chris. And Chris was a compulsive worrier.

They were back from the restaurant and were now lounging on Jonny's battered old dorm couch. Well, Chris had been lounging at least. Now he was on the edge of the dated piece of furniture looking ready to jump up and sprint down the hall at any moment. His legs were bouncing up and down like mad and he drummed his hands on his knees. His face was contorted oddly and his breathing was uneven.

"Chris settle down you're going to give yourself a heart attack," Jonny replied casually, accustomed by now to Chris's anxiety attacks.

"I'm sorry Jonny, but I can't help it! Two Friday evenings is not going to be enough practice for me! I need more time!" His voice cracked and his words sounded more like screeches. Jonny expertly concealed his grin.

"You will be just fine. You are already as close to perfect as it gets."

Chris scoffed at him. "Hardly."

"Well if you really think you are so terrible, then why don't you practice more? There's a whole two weeks before the competition. Just ask your music teacher if you can use the room every evening for a while. I'm sure she'll approve, now that you are planning on entering."

Chris sprung onto his feet. "Oh you're right!" he started for the door.

"Chris, what are you doing? It's almost midnight. Wait until tomorrow."

“Oh...yeah." He laughed nervously and sat back down. He threw an anxious gaze at Jonny. "Jon...I can't do this." Jonny looked up, seriously worried about the state of Chris's mind. "At least, not without you."

Relieved, Jonny relaxed his expression. "Oh don't worry about that. I will be there every day, guitar in hand. As long as you want me there, I will be."

"Thanks Jonny. You are the most amazing friend a guy could ask for.” He leaned in and for a split second Jonny expected him to brush his lips against his own. But instead he reached out his arm and tousled his hair playfully. "It's getting late. I should be heading out. See you...wow, tomorrow I guess." He laughed excitedly and gracelessly left the tiny place. Jonny stared after him with a renewed longing. This was becoming harder and harder to manage, and it scared him. He rolled onto his stomach and put a pillow over his head. It didn't help. No surprises there.


The next evenings leading up to the competition went as usual. Jonny would walk in to Chris already playing. Sometimes Chris would stop, look up, and smile at him. But sometimes he would be too lost in the music to even notice his arrival until Jonny began to strum his own instrument. Then Chris was sure to stop playing. He would stare at Jonny intently until something clicked inside of him and he would begin laying out a new tune which Jonny would instantaneously fall in love with. He was more than willing to express those feelings on any occasion he got, which in turn created a positive reaction in Chris and spurred him on further.

Jonny realized that he and Chris were the perfect musical team. He wondered if Chris had drawn the same conclusion about their music. It was the most he could ever hope from Chris. He was certainly never going to reach any conclusions about Jonny’s feelings towards Chris himself. This was certainly depressing, but Jonny did his best as he always did not to think about it.

Unfortunately, two days before the competition Jonny did think about it. He couldn’t help it. The music Chris had been creating that day was exceptionally lovely, as was Chris himself. He had just gotten himself a haircut and his curls no longer sprang out wildly but were now smaller and more tamed. The day was sunny and bright and even though it was evening no lighting was needed except what came in through the windows. Whenever Chris would look up at Jonny his eyes would catch the light and Jonny’s fingers would falter on the strings, creating a not so pleasant sound.

After a while Chris stopped playing altogether and turned to Jonny with a concerned frown. “Are you okay Jonny? You haven’t been playing the way you usually do.”

Jonny was disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t have a problem with how things were between him and Chris. He stared at his guitar for a long moment. “I think I am done for tonight,” he said slowly.

“Okay” Chris replied meekly. But Jonny could see the question in his eyes. What’s wrong with you? But he knew Chris would never ask it. So he decided to free Chris from his anxiety and provide an answer, although not a truthful one.

“I’m tired. I am going to go home early and get some rest.”

Chris nodded and Jonny left with his head hanging in guilt. He didn’t want to lie to Chris, not anymore. But he needed to take some time to decide whether or not to tell the truth. All this time he had thought the truth was not the way to go, but now he wasn’t so sure.



Chapter 8

It had been a long and grueling night. Jonny would have liked for it to involve some actual sleeping. But you can’t always get what you want. Instead, it was a night filled with thousands of thoughts. Almost all of them reeked of indecisiveness, much to Jonny’s distress. But as the first rays of sunlight broke through on the horizon, a single thought entered his mind that brought on a string of decisive ones.

It was a factual statement. He loved Chris. Quickly, another thought followed, then another. He wanted to spend his life with Chris. And he wanted Chris to know that too. The only way to achieve this? Tell Chris how he felt. He sat up abruptly, his eyes wide and a smile slowly making its way across his features. He realized there was no other option. There was only one decision that would allow this to happen. He was going to tell Chris how he felt.

* * * * * * * * * * *

By the time he reached the music room that night he regretted wearing a jacket. He was sweating uncontrollably, not because it was warm but because he was so nervous. But now he couldn’t remove the jacket or else the embarrassing stains on his shirt would be visible. Instead he took a couple deep breaths and cautiously made his way inside.

He crept over to his place in the corner and readied his guitar with sweaty hands. He was sure that Chris would notice that he was acting out of character. But luckily Chris was too concentrated on his music this particular day. It was one of those days where an earthquake could have rocked the building and Chris wouldn’t even glance up from the piano.

Jonny raised nervous fingers to the guitar strings and hesitantly began to play. He winced as he heard the way the chords sounded from beneath his fingertips. It sounded off. Surely Chris would notice that. It took a few minutes, but Chris did notice. He stopped, lifted his head up slowly, and turned to face Jonny with large, questioning blue eyes. This should have made Jonny even more anxious, but he felt his spirits lift a little. Those eyes were so kind; they never judged, just wondered. Curiosity was just human nature; Jonny couldn’t blame him for that.

He wanted to speak right away; tell Chris any and all of his feelings towards him, but his mouth seemed to be paralyzed. Instead he sat there and pathetically waited for Chris to say something. It didn’t take long. Curiosity invokes impatience in the typical person.

“Jonny, is there something bothering you? I know it’s not really my place, but you still seem to be acting strangely. It worries me.”

“Well I still haven’t had a good night’s sleep if that’s what you mean.” He managed to regain the use of the muscles controlling his mouth. But unfortunately, he couldn’t seem to be able to tell them what to make him say. Words just came out with little or no warning. He set his guitar down. Attempting to play any longer tonight was a waste of time.

Chris frowned. “That’s a shame. I don’t like it when you are like this.” His expression turned sympathetic. “I haven’t been sleeping much either. I’m dreadfully worried about this competition. It’s tomorrow! I don’t think I am ready.”

“Chris, you were born ready.”

Chris smiled appreciatively, showing his crooked British teeth. “Thank you Jonny. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He thought for a moment. “I believe a hug is in order,” he chirped, even as the words escaped his lips he was on the other side of the room, his arms wrapped tightly around Jonny’s torso. Jonny shifted uncomfortably but tried his best to return the gesture. As Chris leaned loosened his grip and began to back away, he whispered into Jonny’s ear.

“Jon, I need to hear more. Give me some more words that I can pump myself up to. I could use a good morale boost,” he admitted with remorse.

Jonny smiled. Chris was the most interesting character he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He spent a long moment in deep thought. Chris would probably have been happy with just about anything. But he wouldn’t. He realized that this was an opportunity he shouldn’t waste. Now was the time. He gripped his chair tightly.

“Chris, you will do an amazing job, because you are an amazing pianist. I can’t imagine anyone outshining you at that competition. But no matter what happens, remember that….”

“What?” Chris asked immediately after the pause, giving Jonny no time to doubt himself.

“Just…..know that I love you.”

Chris stared at him blankly. For once it was he who was at a loss for words.

“Well don’t just stand there,” Jonny mumbled. “What do you have to say about that?”

“About you…..loving me?” Chris asked, rhetorically.

Jonny responded despite Chris’s tone. “Yes.” He looked Chris straight in the eye. There was no going back now.

Suddenly a fire was lit in Chris’s eyes. “I was wrong! I don’t need you!” Chris had no idea where those words came from, but there they were, on display for all those near to hear. Jonny couldn’t move. But who could, after getting stabbed in the heart.

“This is all wrong! You can like me, sure, but love me? No!”

“But what’s not to love?” Jonny asked quietly. “Chris, I am not one to believe in love at first sight but I could swear that from the first time I laid eyes on you I knew who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I thought…..hoped…..you might feel the same.”

“No, just no Jonny.”

“Well some of the things you say prove otherwise! Have you ever even thought about it?”

“Of course not,” he retorted. There was disgust in his tone. There was a dreadfully long silence. “Listen, you can either come tomorrow and support me as my friend, or don’t come at all.”

“You really mean that?” Jonny asked with a hint of disbelief.

“Like I said, I don’t need you.” And with that last sentence hanging in the air like wet clothes hang on a line, Chris turned and exited the room, leaving Jonny to slowly fall apart at the seams.



Chapter 9

Jonny never knew what it felt like to be numb until that moment. He walked to his dorm with a zombie-like motion. He didn’t feel the crisp nighttime breeze on his face or notice the people passing him by, some of which he inadvertently collided with. As soon as he turned the knob and opened the creaky door to the room he collapsed onto the couch and reached for the t.v. remote. He pressed some buttons blindly and managed to turn the television on. He didn’t notice nor care what channel it was turned to and simply forced his eyes to stare at the flickering screen for some hours until a commercial came on that involved piano music. He turned it off immediately and flung the remote across the room. It made a satisfying sound as it hit the hollow wall. Tears began to form in his eyes. He held most of them back but let a few fall to the dulled upholstery of the couch. It felt good to stain it with a few tears. This was the same couch Chris had sat on. It deserved nothing better.

Jonny curled up on the couch with his knees to his chin. He was fully prepared for a miserable and sleepless night. But to his mild surprise, it wasn't long before he felt the familiar feeling of exhaustion sweep over him. He supposed this was the result of so many strong emotions in so short of a time. He was more than willing to give in to the fatigue. Anything was better than a long bleak night spent thinking of Chris.

It was, however, quite naive of him to believe that thoughts of Chris would end in sleep. Dreams are often as powerful as conscious thoughts. And that night he dreamed of Chris incessantly. Although he didn't realize it at the time, for one can only truly ponder a dream after waking, all of his dreaming had been positive. It seemed his subconscious had nothing but good things to say about Chris, despite his recent actions.

This realization flashed into his mind just moments after he blearily opened his eyes. In a few second's time the memories of his dreams replayed themselves like an old movie reel. They came in bits and pieces but could easily be grouped together. Eyes a sparkling blue like the clearest lakes, a smile that was brighter than the light of the sun at noon. What it felt like to be around him and to hear him laugh in that nervous way of his.

But the parts of visions that stuck out he most were those of an elegant, beautiful figure, perfectly poised at the stool of a piano and producing the most gorgeous sounds in all the world. Jonny almost gasped aloud as he recalled the clarity of which he heard the music in his sleep. Reality hit him like a rock then. he was never going to hear those sounds again. Not if things continued on this way. He rubbed his face and sat up slowly. His still tired eyes made their way lazily around the room. Everywhere they landed there was the image of Chris at that piano.

Jonny stood up, perhaps a bit too quickly, seeing how he nearly fell over due to the disorientation that mornings often brought. But he couldn't have cared less about that. A decision had been made in the mind of Jonny Buckland. No matter how much it hurt him, he would remain mere friends with Chris. Because that pain was nothing to the pain he experienced when he considered the alternative option of ending all contact with him.

Later that evening, he glanced at himself in the mirror. Everything appeared to be in order. His hair was fine, it was too short to do much with. His face was clean shaven and he thought he looked alright for someone as weary as he was. He tired out a small smile. It was weak, but it would do. Shrugging into his jacket, he made his way out into the chilly evening air.

The small pub wasn't far at all, only a couple of blocks. Jonny reached it much sooner than he had planned. He stopped in front of it briefly, his hands shaking with nervousness. He didn't have anything o be nervous about. But to calm his overactive nerves he started walking again, passing the building and rounding the corner.

There was still time before the competition began. And he didn't think it would make a difference if he was a little late or not. It's not as if Chris was expecting him to show. But wandering down the road, he found, made him even more anxious. He really didn't want to miss hearing Chris play. He felt an almost fatherly sense of pride just thinking about the way he knew Chris could outshine the competition. He turned abruptly around and marched back to the pub, nearly knocking over another pedestrian in the process. No matter if he was Chris's friend or his lover, he was going to cheer him on and shower him with support.



Chapter 10

There were a number of notable things at the quaint little pub that was housing the contest. There was a bar, quite obviously, and there were people sitting at it, all in various stages of intoxication. Also included was a collection of a few old chairs and round tables. People sat in them as well. These people were here for the entertainment rather than the drinks, although most of them did have one or two. Among those desiring to be entertained was a young man with light green eyes and an encouraging smile.

A few of those sitting actually were the entertainment. They all sat in quiet anticipation of their chance to shine as musical artists. Inside they were all nervous, but none of those emotions were expressed outwardly-with one exception. One of those chairs was occupied by a bundle of nerves. In that chair there was an excessive amount of fidgeting, and a good deal of sweating too. The blue eyed man occupying that particular chair was a nervous wreck.

As little amount of square footage as there was, a little area in the back was clear of tables and people. Instead of those things, there was a shiny black piano. It looked funny and out of place sitting on an old wooden floor of an even older pub. It was certainly the most elegant thing in the room. It captured the eyes of the small audience and would surely draw even further attention to itself when it was played. Not long after Jonny entered the place, this proved true.

A man with slick black hair and tattoos lining his well muscled arms stood at the space near the piano. He appeared to be the owner. He cleared his throat to signal the beginning of the competition. He spoke for some time about rules and the way the judging would be conducted. The winner would be determined only by the audience’s reaction. The prize, five hundred dollars, would go to the person whose performance produced the loudest cheers. Finally, the man read off from a list the order the musicians would play in. Chris was called last, number nine.

The first competitor stood then and walked calmly up to the piano. There was deportment in the way he sat, and he immediately began to play a lively tune on the keys. The audience eagerly showed its approval. Jonny and Chris both shook their heads. Chris was sure that he would not be as good as the rest. Jonny was sure Chris would be better.

Every performance strengthened their feelings. Even as Chris’s confidence withered, Jonny’s confidence in him grew. When contestant number eight stepped away from the piano to the sound of hearty applause, Jonny’s eyes lit up. Chris felt like he might pass out. He stood on shaky legs and clumsily made his way to the piano.

The room was dead silent. Compared to those who went before him, Chris looked slightly out of place. In his plain blue t-shirt, loose fitting pants, and wild hair that was badly in need of a trim, he hardly looked like a skilled pianist. But the way that he played proved he played proved that looks are certainly an irrelevant factor in judging musical prowess.

Jonny instantly recognized the tune. It was the small bit that Chris had played on the first evening Jonny had played with Chris. About a minute into it, there was a sudden silence. Jonny frowned. Chris had stopped playing and was staring blankly at the keys. His fingers were still poised above them. The silence was obtrusive and rude. Everybody in the audience felt it. Chris quickly glanced up and Jonny could see the panic in his eyes. He quickly scanned the crowd. He was looking for someone.

After a few moments of torturous silence his roving eyes finally became fixed to one spot. At first Jonny wondered what Chris could be looking at. Then he realized that those deep blue eyes were looking directly at him. His stomach flipped and he gave an encouraging smile without thinking twice about it. It was just like all those evenings in the music room. A spark ignited in Chris’s eyes. He swiftly brought his fingers back down to the keys and continued to play.

A soundless sigh spread through the room. Chris became totally immersed in his music. Jonny became totally immersed in watching Chris. He was swimming in a sea of beautiful sounds. As Chris dove deeper into the song, Jonny recognized all of it. He heard the separate tunes that Chris had played for him all together in a perfect, harmonious union.

A strange childlike giddiness filled him as he made the connection. All of those tunes had just been a small part of the whole thing. He was experiencing the completed work for the first time. The artist’s finished piece. Jonny had no words to describe it. So when it was finished, he opted to simply give a standing ovation instead.

At first he was the only idiot standing among about one hundred people. In a few seconds there were about a hundred others standing with him, clapping and cheering. A few even wiped tears from their eyes. Jonny grinned widely. The black haired man was next to the piano and the stunned Chris in one fluid motion. Patting him on the back, he proclaimed him the clear winner. Chris’s eyes widened to twice their usual size. He uttered a long string of thank yous. But his eyes searched the crowd. He pinpointed Jonny and quickly made his way over to him.

Jonny smiled widely at him. “Congratulations! I knew you could do it Chris, I told you that you could.”

“Thank you.” Chris tried to smile back. But guilt wouldn’t allow him to truly enjoy his victory. “Jonny……follow me. I have some things I need to say.” He grabbed Jonny by the arm and pulled him to a door that Jonny hadn’t noticed before.



Chapter 11

Chris opened the door in a hurry and forcibly pulled Jonny inside. He finally let go of Jonny’s arm to feel around in the dark for a light switch. He finally felt a thin cord and he pulled it. A single light bulb produced a yellowish glow. It was weak, but it was enough to make the room visible. There were some shelves and boxes caked in dust. It was obviously a storage room that hadn’t been occupied by another person in quite some time.

It was stuffy and warm in the small space, and Jonny was already feeling heated from both the shock and thrill of Chris’s hand on his arm. He took a deep breath, although it didn’t help much, and leaned against a wall. He considered saying something along the lines of “what’s going on?” to Chris but decided he would allow Chris to speak first. It was his idea to come here after all.

Chris inhaled deeply to prepare to speak. But instead of words all that came out of his mouth was a lot of coughing. Clearly he hadn’t expected the room to be so dusty and the air to be so stale. When his fit was over he just looked at Jonny a moment to recollect his thoughts. Jonny looked back at him and they both ended up laughing. This continued until Chris realized that the sound might be audible to the outside world. He quickly pursed his lips and forced a serious expression to extend across his face. Jonny did the same.

In a whisper, Chris finally articulated his thoughts. “Jonny, I am sorry. I was wrong.”

“Don’t worry Chris, it’s okay. I can understand your reaction. That was a lot for a person to take in so quickly, especially when that person doesn’t return the feelings.”

Chris shook his head. “Don’t misunderstand me. I am sorry for the way I reacted, but I did not react that way for the reason you think. I was just taken by surprise. I didn’t know how to handle someone..…loving me. No one has ever loved me that way before, at least not to my knowledge. I didn’t know what to do.” He heaved a frustrated sigh and rubbed his face. “I’m so sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“I forgive you,” Jonny responded immediately. He didn’t even give it a second thought. He knew that Chris was not the type of person to do cruel things just for the sake of being cruel. Sure, it had hurt worse than any physical pain he had ever felt to hear Chris say those things, but somehow this was now easy to overlook. He supposed that was what love did to a person. It made them forget the bad completely and focus on the good.

“Listen,” Chris said morosely, “you don’t have to forgive me. You shouldn’t, really. I don’t deserve it. You should have better than me.” He quickly averted his eyes from Jonny’s gaze. But not soon enough for Jonny to miss the tears that were beginning to build behind them.

“Hey,” Jonny said softly. Chris looked up hesitantly. “Don’t cry Chris, I can’t handle that.” Chris sniffed and his eyes began to dry. “You’ve got to know something. No matter what you say, no matter what you do, I will always forgive you for it. Because I love you.”

Chris’s mouth formed a shocked little "o'". “Still?” he whispered, in disbelief.

“Of course. How could I ever stop? You’re the only person I ever want to be with.”

“Oh,” Chris replied. His voice was shaky and weak. “That…that makes me very glad Jonny.” He shuffled his feet and rubbed his hands together. “I have been doing some thinking. I think I feel the same way.”

Now it was Jonny’s turned to look shocked. He felt a warm feeling begin to rise from somewhere deep within him. Pure ecstasy, just from those few words. But he couldn’t help asking the obvious question. “You think?”

Chris knit his brows together and thought about it seriously. “Tonight when I got up to play my piece, I was so nervous. More nervous than I’ve ever been in my life. I kept wishing….that you were there. I wanted to kick myself for saying those things to you. As I’m sure you saw, I had to stop only a little ways into the song. I couldn’t do it without you. So I scanned the crowd with futile hope, wishing I would see your green eyes and your encouraging smile. Truthfully, I was ready to stand up and walk out if I didn’t see your face. But then the impossible happened. You were sitting there cheering me on with your eyes, with your smile. I felt a rush of courage and immediately begun to play again, as you saw. And then I knew.”

“Knew?”

“Yes, when I think it over again I am sure of it now. Jonny, I love you.” As he spoke those last words he moved in closer to Jonny. His hands resting on the wall behind Jonny, he kissed him ardently. Jonny gasped. Chris hesitated for a moment, but Jonny pulled him closer, showing that he welcomed the display of affection. He moaned with pleasure as Chris’s tongue entered his mouth. But then he gently pushed him away.

“We should probably leave,” he said with a laugh. “We could go back to my place, if you want. We don’t have to do anything more. We could just talk or something.”

Chris nodded his approval. “Okay”.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The two men were lounged on the couch, surrounded in darkness. The ending credits of the movie they had been watching moved across the flickering television screen. Jonny turned it off. Chris turned to look at Jonny. All he could see of him were his brightly colored eyes and his silhouette.

“Tonight was fun,” he said. “I had a great time.” Jonny opened his mouth to speak but sensed that Chris had something else to say, so he waited. Chris cleared his throat. “It was fun….but I think it could be….more fun, if you know what I mean.” His voice was husky and deeper than usual. Jonny could see the desire in his eyes. His own eyes reflected the same desires.

“Okay. I can think of some other fun things we could do,” he said slyly.

“Oh?” questioned Chris, raising his eyebrows in a seductive manner that he hoped Jonny could see.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

“Okay,” he said seductively. “Roll over, Beethoven.”



THE END