Timothy slipped into the small practice room, closing the door behind him.
The school day was over. He'd pulled up the schedules for when the rooms were in use and this afternoon was clear, so nobody would likely bother him. Just in case though... he cast a light ward on the room to further dampen sound from escaping. The walls were already pretty thick, but last thing he wanted was someone to walk by and hear him, even faintly.
He sat down at the piano and lightly put his hands in place over the keys, closing his eyes. How long had it been? He'd abandoned music when he came to Saint Joe's the first time due to the massive lack of privacy. So it had been at least four years, but it had also only been a few weeks.
He began to play. He had looked up the chords before he came over, so he had direction. Normally he'd have played on his acoustic, but this song was better suited to the piano anyway. He spent several minutes playing through it, working out the right harmony for the song.
Then he began to sing. He let himself go.
- All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for the daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere...
London paused in the hallway. She had been headed to back to their studio for the band's daily practice, running a bit late thanks to Mr. Norris who had insisted on having a conversation with her about the importance of doing homework. Like that will get me anywhere in life. She lamented bitterly, taking a sip from the latte that made her just that much later. Down the hall, she could hear the muffled sounds of drums and bass as Laurel and Mal were undoubtedly warming up, probably wondering where she was again. But she was pretty certain she'd never seen the door to room four closed before, and certainly not at this time of day.
"Weird." She said aloud. Was there another band? Local competition? Were they any good?
She walked over to the door and listened. Dead silent. Very quietly--because you never knew what might be going on behind closed doors in this school--she eased the door open. As soon as she did, the dead silence ended.
- And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very very
Mad world, mad world
Sitting at the piano was a brown-haired boy. His back was to her, so she couldn't tell whether she recognized him or not. He didn't seem to realize she was there, and the way he sang, there was just something indescribable about it. It gave her chills, like when she and Harmony were "on." She was late. She knew it, but they wouldn't mind, right? Five more minutes wouldn't hurt. ... so why not listen for a while?
He played the piano pretty well, albeit a little rusty maybe. It sure as hell didn't sound like he was just learning. There was a confidence about it that said "this piano is mine." Sure there were a few misplaced notes, but he didn't let it phase him like it would a novice. He sang well, with a strong, expressive voice that drew her in. It was almost as if she began to feel the song's lonely melancholy, a sense of being adrift in a strange and confusing world.
The song wound down and he finished it out with some extended piano work before finally bringing it to a close. She shook her head to clear it a bit. It was as if the sorrow disappeared like a fog lifting the moment he stopped singing. She leaned against the door frame, taking another sip of the warm liquid then decided to speak up before he got started on something else.
"That wasn't half bad. You know anything more upbeat?"
* * * * *
Timothy sprung to his feet, almost knocking the piano bench over as he whirled around to see who had spoken. It was one of the Zentaro girls, London. He felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. "Wha-- How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to not mind hearing a bit more." She smiled at him, open and friendly. "I was just headed over to practice with the band. You want to come jam with us a bit?"
"What? No!" Embarrassment gave way to anger, which was something Timothy could work with more easily. "Just who do you think you are, barging in like that? The door was closed for a reason!"
"Geez, relax! You sounded pretty good. I mean, sure, you could have picked something a little bit more cheerful, but--"
"I don't care how you think I sounded! Just forget you ever heard me." Timothy scowled at her, trying to further cover his discomfort with his anger. He needed to get out of here. He felt like he wanted to throw up, and it wasn't entirely because of the geas this time. "Next time you find a closed door, knock first. I have better things to do than entertain nosy classmates. I'm out of here."
Before London really had a chance to respond, Timothy simply vanished from sight.
