Past, Present and Music

Funny, but I've never actually been on the university campus, despite living and working in its proximity for years. It was charming in a vintage, grandiose sort of way, with old buildings giving way to slick modern structures. The classes were over, but it was still boiling with life. I couldn't help but cast sidelong looks on students and occasional faculty members hurrying by. They were all so... unburdened. I felt like I have teleported to an alien planet, one which I wasn't allowed to visit.

This feeling of alienation only grew stronger once I stepped inside one of the buildings. On a usual day, I felt pretty comfortable about who I was and how I looked. But now I became painfully aware of how cheap my clothes were, and how pedestrian I must have looked to these young people, who were seemingly all sporting elaborate tattoos, piercings, had shaved temples and carried themselves with an aura of expensive down-to-earthiness.

I had to murmur to myself 'tall, dark and handsome' three times on my way to the lecture hall where Claire and other guys were waiting for me.

'Hey Matt!'

Claire was sitting on a white plastic chair, with her stretched legs on top of a bulky speaker of some sort, with a can of soda in her hand. Nelly was standing beside her, tuning a beautiful electric guitar. Dylan and Ted were talking in a corner and waved when I came in.

The lecture hall turned out to be a circular auditorium filled with different musical instruments. It was far larger than I expected, too, and seemed to be soundproofed.

'What is if this place?'

'University's music center. We got a time slot thanks to Mr. Fine Arts here, - Claire pointed her soda in the direction of Dylan. - Not exactly a garage, huh?'

It wasn't. In the bright light of fluorescent lamps the place looked classy, and so did the guys. They looked like they belonged here. But I didn't, which begged the question: what was I doing in their company? Why had they invited me into their close-knitted group? Was it genuine sympathy, or some sort of sick fascination? University kids didn't usually mix up with poor, working-class people like me.

Not to mention that they were human, and I was not.

Dylan and Ted headed toward us.

'Yo, Matt. Why so blue?'

I took a deep breath and shook away the veil of self-consciousness that painted my thoughts black. I guess I was just feeling extra wraithy today because of the visit to William's and the consequent conversation with Mickey. To hell with that. I wasn't going to let crap like that poison this moment.

I smiled.

'I think I'm still hungover from yesterday. You guys are too young to understand.'

That got a laugh, and I suddenly felt better. The part of my brain that was preoccupied with Zero, Mickey and the PA turned off, and the part that was all about Claire, guys and the band (but mostly Claire) came back online.

'So, what's the plan?'

Claire lazily stretched her arms, made a sip of soda and flew to her feet, switching to her usual hyperactive mode.

'Okay, people. The rehearsal is officially on! Put on your musical prodigy hats!'

She pointed me to a piano and smiled.

'It's time to show us what you've got, Matt. Like, no pressure, but we've all been dying to know if you're a real deal.'

I approached the piano and sat down in front of it. Then gave her a puzzled look.

'Uh... what exactly am I supposed to do?'

'I don't know. Play something. Dazzle us!'

She was smiling, but I could see that she was a little bit nervous. After all, she spent the last couple of days selling my supposed talents to her friends, and if it turned out that I didn't have any, there'll be no place for me in the band. And, for some reason, she wanted me to stay.

That made me feel better.

I tentatively touched the keys. Man, it was so many years since I've played for the last time. Would my fingers even remember how? I reached into my memory and tried to fish out some music.

The first thing that came to my mind was one of my mother's favorite pieces. It was a beautiful and calm composition, a little bit complex in the execution, but melodically simple. I must have played it hundreds of times when I was a kid.

I took a deep breath and cautiously started playing. At first, my fingers felt slow and sluggish, but as I continued to play, muscle memory kicked in. It still wasn't perfect, but I managed well enough to get into the melody. The music flowed from under my fingers, and I felt... great. But I also felt some invisible barrier deep within my soul break, and suddenly there was this feeling of deep, painful sorrow that overwhelmed my senses.

I closed my eyes, and remembered my mom, playing to me in the living room of our small apartment. The sunlight coming from the window contoured her like a halo, and the room was filled with the warm summer wind. Everything was crisp and insanely colorful in a way that only children can perceive. And there were smells, too: the smell of freshly cut grass, freshly baked pastries, and dust dancing in the light.

Funny, but back when I was a kid, I always thought that this piece was the epitome of bliss. It was all harmony and faith. But now, as I was playing it, it seemed to be more sad than blissful.

I didn't want it to be sad. I didn't want these memories to be sad, either. It was wrong, to cast away all the happiness and thousands of good moments we had, just because one day it all ended. So I changed the arrangement a bit on the fly, making it more optimistic. Then I interlaced a little measured dissonance into the notes, because life wasn't always bliss. Sometimes it was hard and unfair and heartbreaking. But it was okay, because it was what it was supposed to be. In the end, everything that was worth it hurt.

I stopped abruptly because I felt that a few more seconds of this would make me teary-eyed. Instead, I exhaled, opened my eyes and turned to the guys with a questioning smile.

'Well, how was that?'

They were silent for a few seconds, looking at me with strange expressions on their faces, and then exploded with cheers.

'That was awesome, man!'

'Fucking A!'

'I told you, you bastards!'

Nelly gave me a thumbs up, and then started silently applauding.

'Who taught you to play like this?!'

Before I could answer, Claire turned to Dylan, a triumphant grin on her face.

'It was his mom.'

Dylan raised his eyebrows.

'Was your mom, like, a concert pianist?'

I smiled.

'No. She was a waitress.'

It was the first time I smiled when thinking about her in a long, long time.

#

We rehearsed for a couple of hours after that. Since Ted and I were the new guys, we had to catch up, but it wasn't too hard. The song we were learning was upbeat to the point of madness but also had some intensely dark undertones. When I asked Claire what it was about, she replied that "it's about how when you're very, very afraid of something for a long, long time, and then this thing finally happens, only it's so much worse than you could have ever imagined, and you're completely fucked, like so much that's it's not even remotely funny, so you're completely fucking destroyed, but also, strangely, completely fearless, because the worse thing that could have happened had already happened, and you know that whatever life throws at you from this point on, it can't be worse... until it is, of course. So it's about, like, liberation in despair. We call it Lady Despair".

They were all very good, although rough. Ted was really impressive on the drums but sometimes hurried in front of the band. I had a feeling that this will go away once he gets the chance to accommodate himself to the others. Claire had a tendency to get carried away, although it didn't hurt the baseline much. Still, she had something to work on. As I suspected, Dylan had a distinct, personable voice. It was strong and versatile enough to one day, with experience, become truly unique.

And then there was Nelly. Nelly was flawless. Her guitar sang like nothing I ever heard before, and the most impressive thing about it was that she made it look effortless. She had an unforgettable presence, too: silent, relaxed and confident, somehow able to keep absolutely cool even in the midst of the most frantic, energetic, taxing riff. She was simply on another level than the others, at least for now.

I have never played in a collective, so this feeling, the feeling of shared exhilaration, was completely new to me. It was strange, to release the possession of the music to someone else, to not have it under your full control, but still be a part of it and feel it happen. I liked it.

We were having a ton of fun.