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Starting Secondary school. I kept looking at him. We were in the same cla.s.s and he befriended two people within the first couple of week. We had our normal music lessons with our cla.s.s each week and I always watched him. He never made the effort to play. It was as if he couldn't. He was always messing about or never took it seriously. Even the performance exams that he could play well he only got just pa.s.sing grades. It was as if he was a secret agent trying to hide his ident.i.ty. It was as if he didn't want to world to hear him play.
I found out when I went to cancel my Violin lessons at the music school that he quit after the exam. He never returned and gave up once he got his results. Even if I knew he kept playing I always wondered why he quit. I wanted to ask him and kept trying to find excuses that I could say. Each time I gave up thinking that it would just be awkward.
I preyed each day hoping that I'd be paired with him for group work in something, but that never happened. They say teachers can tell who likes who and they try to pair them up, I guess that either I put up too much of a wall or they were blind, because I knew that I liked him from long ago.
Eventually, two years had pa.s.sed and we were coming towards the end of year 9. It was time to decide on our subjects for the next two years. I looked at the list and saw Music. I thought that maybe it would be fun to get back into it but I don't think my parents would be happy with it.
"So… Owen? what are you picking?" I overheard one day from someone in our cla.s.s, Owen's friend, a boy called Ethan.
"Don't know…"
"What about drama with me?" he said as I also saw that I had drama on my list. I guess that this was finally all the preying coming into use.
"I might do…" Owen replied. "I was thinking of doing music…"
I wasn't sure I heard him correctly the first time. I thought that there was no way he would pick music. I tried to listen in closer and it seemed as if he was determined to do it.
I looked at my sheet, with only Drama and Art ticked I needed one more subject. I wanted to hear him play again. I wanted to hear him play the piano, but I gave up on music. I couldn't pick music. I had no choice, I threw that part of me away.
# # #
At the start of next year. I sat next to Owen, in the first music cla.s.s for the next two years.
Even if it caused pain and my stepdad to yell at me, I was glad I ticked the box to do music. My mum tried to calm him down when he found out and eventually he gave in.
I sat next to Owen without saying anything. We were given our first a.s.signment, a small performance. I wanted to make conversation with Owen and ask what he was going to play but I couldn't. I tried to get my voice out and ask but I kept failing. The same thoughts of the last few years kept racing around with nowhere to go. It was a stupid crush. Sitting next to the person you like, never being able to speak. This type of thing would only happen in a Romcom.
"What piece are you playing?" He asked me randomly. I was stunned and couldn't reply. I wasn't sure if he asked me but I responded anyway.
"huh? I-I don't know… I haven't played in a while."
"I see," He said looking at me.
"W-what about you?" I asked.
"Heehee," he said rather excitedly. "It's a secret."
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Looking at his smile back then, I saw a perfect image of my dad. His voice had pa.s.sion in it and I wanted to know so badly what he was going to play. Like a child, I couldn't sit still. I had to know what it was he was going to play. From those words alone it was as if he created an extravagant menu of food right in front of me but tied me to a chair.
"Ruby." The teacher called out as it was my go first.
"Good luck," Owen said to me sitting as if he knew he had the best performance.
I don't want to remember that performance. It was years since I last picked up the violin. I wanted to sing something but I decided to go for the violin instead to get back into it. I even attempted the piano but it wasn't good. I could see looking up that Owen was trying not to laugh and I felt embarra.s.sed sitting back down.
"That was good," He said to me.
"N-no it wasn't," I said.
"Hmm… alright. But you seemed to know what you were doing. Your violin playing was good and the singing was great. I would give up on the piano though."
Owen's words then were strange. They felt harsh but honest. I knew he wasn't one to hold back and I felt as if I had spoken to him properly then.
"Owen." The teacher called as he stood up only to forget his sheet music and come back to claim them. Although, I was sure he didn't need them.
I listened to what it was he was playing. I had heard him play a few pieces over the years and was wondering what he would play today. I wasn't sure if he kept practising after he quit but I could tell on the first note that he kept going.
By the time his performance finished the room was awestruck. He was clearly the most practised out of all of us but he didn't make a deal out of it. Although he sat and acted as if he was arrogant when he spoke, he spoke about himself harshly as if he hated his life.
"Claire de Lune…" I said to him as he sat back down. "Why that one?"
"Why?" Owen said. "It's because I enjoy it. I wouldn't want to play a piece that I wouldn't enjoy."
Although I knew that would be his answer, I didn't know how to respond. He played not because he had to, but because he wanted to.
# # #
To bring this story back to the present. I'm sat with Owen in the music room as we practise for our exams.
"Can I ask something?" I said. "Why did you say you didn't want to play Schubert back then?"
Owen looked at me with confusion, trying to remember what I was talking about.
"Oh, back then. I'm surprised you remember that. I thought you had forgotten about me."
"Huh?" I said laughing under my breath. "I thought YOU had forgotten about ME."
"Me? No, I still remember seeing you outside that music room in that school. Who wouldn't forget someone with Ruby coloured hair."
Even though I was aware that Owen remembered me, I didn't know it was that far back. I always thought it was the public piano that he remembers, not the music lesson.
"But to answer your question," he said. "I didn't want to play it because my granddad had recently pa.s.sed. Since my parents always worked he was the one that looked after me and got me into the piano. When he pa.s.sed, I thought that it was pointless to continue. I couldn't be what he wanted me to be…"
I listened to Owen's story and found similarities with my own. He had his granddad whilst I had my dad. I felt bad listening to it but I could understand where he came from. Sometimes it feels as if you have to do it for them.
"But now I like the piece," he said suddenly. "Don't you think it's a beautiful piece. It's the most fun I've had playing something. I look back on past me that hated it and wonder why."
Owen once said to me, that my playing was strange because I couldn't forget my dad. I thought he was being harsh and stupid, even if I knew he was strange. I always played for my dad, just like Owen did for his granddad. The difference between us when we played that first exam in year 10 was that he had accepted it. He was playing for himself at that point. Perhaps I was playing with my dad in mind. Trying to be the musician he would want me to be. I didn't realise that he would be happy with whatever it was I did.
"Thank you…" I said to Owen who didn't take it well.
"Ew… that's creepy… Why suddenly thank me?"
"No reason!" I said hugging him from behind, weakening his defence.
"You really are strange…" He said not trying to resist.
Hey, dad…
You met this boy outside the music exam that one time, right? I wonder what you thought of him? although, I feel like I already know.