The Music Lovers

[Komuso]

Decided to pen this story as my small contribution back to this forum which, despite its ostensible content, is undeniably insightful, funny, and at times even moving. Of course some may say that at the end of the day it's all about sex, but then again (at least for those who have honestly contributed here), what is that but unpretentiously coming to grips with such an core aspect of human nature?

The little tale of mine is about 80% true, with the remaining portion distorted to maintain some anonymity . I must admit I have a habit of being a little long-winded, so kindly bear with me. I'm a bit of a sucker for romance too, so while this is not an adrenaline-fueled high speed porn flick, I hope at the end of the day that this will at least be an interesting read and a good distraction from all the other unpleaseantries life has to offer.

I.

The story begins with me, a music student in a local institution. My class was an all-male affair, and it was competitive in that typical Singaporean way; we were all out to undo each other both on paper as well as on the piano. I was rather disillusioned, perhaps due to my rather large idealistic streak, and lessons were by and large mechanical an uninteresting. My only respite was playing in the school's orchestra, as well as playing the piano for my own pleasure in a little hideout which I made for myself on campus. This hideout was an out-of-the-way practice studio which was seldom used; its non-functioning air-conditioner was another reason for its unpopularity. As school syllabus understandably focussed on academic topics, we trained in classical music just about all the time, with only a little jazz on the side just for exposure. And so I would seek sanctuary with "my" piano in my little world, with all my favourite pop songs, musicals, and soundtracks.

A couple of months after the school term began, the predictable (in terms of this story at least ) occurred: a lone female pianist transferred in and was assigned to my class since it had the lowest headcount. She rather nervously introduced herself as Sarah, majoring in voice and piano, and sat herself down still gripping her file and stationery tightly as the day's lesson began. Since I was sitting closest to her, I handed her a set of lecture notes, advising her to take notes quickly as our tutor was the rambling sort who didn't exactly stop to give us time to write. She thanked me and gave me a shy smile... which I still remember till today. I didn't see her much outside of class after that, and most of the time when I did she always appeared in a hurry with her eyes firmly fixed on the ground as she bustled past.

At the piano, she was a nervous wreck; her face would cringe every time she made the smallest mistake, and her playing would get faster and faster particularly in hard-to-play passages. Any musician could tell she couldnt't wait for the piece to be over. I observed this whenever we had our peer review sessions - where we had to play our examination pieces for the rest of the class to hear,and she would perpetually have that worried look on her face as the negative comments poured in. Her singing on the other hand, was quite an ear-opener, at least for me. She did't have that glass-shattering power of an opera singer, but there was a quiet strength not unlike singers such as Dido and Sarah McLachlan. Still, the tutor was unimpressed since pop songs were not on the table for discussion, and neither were my other classmates. Rumours started to circulate that no one ever saw her practicing in school, and one guy reportedly saw her at the Botanic Gardens staring blankly into space on a Sunday evening. I felt sorry for her, but didn't really think much about helping her as I had too many of my own problems to deal with.

I should mention here that I used that "hideout" studio of mine without booking it, and would usually get chased out by estate officers whenever they passed by, which was fortunately not that often. In the days that followed, I would in several instances hear footsteps echoing down the corridor outside, and I would stop playing expecting to be asked to leave again. After a moment's silence however, they would trail off into the distance and I would breathe a sigh of relief. One particular incident however, would be different. I was in the middle of routine practice, which I usually did before I rewarded myself with 'better' music to end off my session. This time, I noticed the studio door which I always shut tightly was ever so slightly open and someone was obviously outside. I stopped immediately and made a move towards the door, but my unwelcome visitor bolted before I could IFF. I was rather pissed off though, as my immediate reaction at the time was to think that it was one of the guys trying to listen in on my progress. I don't mean to boast here but my performance skills at the time were considered competitive, and I wasn't very popular because I made it plain that I did not believe in traditional practice techniques - but yet could get the job done.

As tacky as it sounds, I was soon to discover that shenanigans beyond my imagination would soon begin...

[Komuso]

II.

I told myself subsequently, that I should grow up and not bother about such trivial matters. If it happened again, I imagined I would boldly invite the unknown visitor to come in and join me without so much as looking up from the keyboard. As cocky as it sounds, it was not to be the case

It was a Friday evening, and as the sun was setting, the room grew dark, too dark for me to properly read my scores. And so I closed my books and began playing the music I loved so dearly from memory. Like a drug, the sound of the music carried me away... it was an old but very seasoned Japanese piano with hypersensitive keys that obeyed my slightest touch, not like that cold, unfeeling German bitch of a baby grand in the main classroom. And what better music to play than a modern Japanese classic: Melodies of Life, from the score of the video game Final Fantasy IX. I wasn't much of a fan of the series, but I was an ardent follower of Mr Nobuo Uematsu, who wrote just about all of the soundtracks for the many instalments of the series.

As I played the piece for the second time, the piano sounded a little wonky, so I stopped and opened the lid to check the hammers. A dead lizard was caught in the strings before, so I wondered if I'd find something else stuck in there this time. Strangely, there was nothing, and as I tested several keys, everything sounded normal. I resumed playing and the same strange sound emerged; I stopped and forcefully struck the same keys which seemed to be the source of the problem - but again they sounded normal. For the second time I resumed playing, and this time the sound grew louder... and was very obviously not coming from the piano; as I turned my head to where the strange sound was coming from, the words "what the fuck!" escaped from my mouth before I could stop them...

"Oh sorry, sorry! I thought you knew I was here."

Sarah stood in the doorway with that worried look on her face again, her waist slightly turning away as if uncertain whether or not to stay or run from this vulgar maniac and his Japanese piano. For the longest three seconds in my life I stared blankly at her, and stated the obvious.

"You were uh... singing in Japanese?"

"Uh... ya? Isn't it supposed to be? Sorry I know I didn't sound very good... My pitch sometimes goes sharp. Is that why you were checking the piano? Ok never mind, I'm sorry to disturb, I'll just go now."

"No, wait! I've never heard the Japanese lyrics before... can you uh... sing it again for me?" I lied.

"Ok!"

Cheesy as it sounds, I swear to god at that moment her entire face lit up like the sun. Ok, it was probably the light coming from the window. But there was that smile again... and an irrelevant observation that her eyes were really much bigger than I thought. I felt my hair stand as she sang while I played; she had in my opinion, the perfect voice for the song, which was written for female vocals after all. Unlike other disastrous amateur renditions which I had heard before, this closet performance didn't turn out to be the misguided rock song or jazz number which totally undermined the style of the music.

"You like his music? I'm a big fan, know!" she exclaimed as the piece ended.

"Ya ofcourse! Been following him for quite some time. Brilliant stuff." I replied.

We chatted for some time about Mr Uematsu's music afterwhich there was an awkward silence.

"Ok I think have to go now." she said in a somewhat disappointed tone.

"Ah ok. what were you doing around so late anyway?" My watch read 7pm. "Don't usually see you around school so much."

"Actually the last few times I came here when I booked the studio, but there was always someone inside so I thought I got the time slot wrong." she chirped.

"Oh so that was you! Sorry, actually I never book this room; I just use it until someone chases me out." I confessed.

She laughed... with a sound as sweet as her singing.

"Ya and you nearly caught me escaping once too," she continued. "Well it was fun singing with you. Let's do it again! Bye!"


And with that she spun around and scampered off, as the words 'will you be coming down tomorrow' got caught in my throat...

[liber]

Nice story

[Komuso]

J

Originally Posted by liber

Nice story

Thanks bro...at least I know one samster hasn't been put to sleep by my rambling haha. More juice coming

[gaipauchi]

hey, man, more support here, lah.....
good start so far, keep it goin'............

[Komuso]

III.

Saturday was always my favourite day of the school week - I could wake up late in the morning for brunch, then head to school for orchestra rehearsals which started just after lunch. I was pretty close to the other members, and I always respected their love for music particularly because most of them were science or commerce students. We'd usually head to town for dinner and such after rehearsals ended around 4pm, and as the time drew near were packing up our instruments and preparing to leave. I had completely forgotten about the incident with Sarah just the day before, having relegated it to the random memories department in my head. I remember finding her attractive the first time we met, that was for sure - but I realised I saw her so seldom I couldn't even conjure an image of her face in my mind.

After placing my Violin back on the storage rack and locking up the store room (I was one of the committee members) the bunch of us took our usual slow walk all the way out of campus onto the main road. Just when we reached the bus stop however, I realised that I had forgotten my wallet, and remembered leaving it inside my instrument locker back at the store room. With a grunt of frustration I told my friends that I had to head back to pick it up, and would catch up with them later in town. At any rate they were still arguing about where to eat, and I told one of the percussionists, Sean, that I would call him later to find out where to meet. He gave me a wry smile and said that perhaps by the time they had decided I would be back already.

As I trudged back to the store room, my mind devolved into the usual cycle of questions which perpetually plagued me. What was I doing with my life? Was I going to make a career out of music? My family's finances were in bad enough shape and it would be depending on me to survive in a matter of time. I hated the idea of taking up a regular job and spending the rest of my days as an alienated and probably underpaid salaryman. But the music industry was a tough place to survive in; employment, let alone income, was very uncertain. I could take refuge in a Cristofori or Yamaha outlet of course, and eke out a meagre living teaching primary school kids how to wreck a six thousand-dollar lacquered wood and ivory device, but the thought of that was obviously not very appealing.

And then the unmistakable sound of 'Melodies of Life' wafted through the air and into my ears. I stopped dead in my tracks, partly out of disbelief, and partly out of anticipation; it could have been anybody practicing really. But then the hardest part of the piece approached and the unseen player began to speed up in a fashion which was by now all too familiar to me, and my feet followed suit. Why was I walking faster? What did I hope would happen? I asked myself these questions as I hurriedly retrieved my wallet and re-locked the store room.

True enough, I found Sarah sitting at the same Piano in the same studio, softly humming to herself as she played. I decided to return a favour.

"My turn to surprise you." I said through that same door which I opened slightly. She let out a stifled scream, which turned into a huge grin.

"You're very bad, know. I didn't do it intentionally. What are you doing here at this hour?" she said, giving me a sensation of total deja vu.

"Orchestra rehearsals. You still uh... playing 'Melodies' huh." I said for lack of better words.

"Of course! I was trying to sing and play at the same time, except that my piano playing is horrible." she looked genuinely downcast. "Let's do it again! You play and then I'll sing."

How could I say no? I obligingly began performing my role... and this time she sat right beside me on the piano bench as she sang. God god... I felt that I could almost touch the soundwaves coming from her, bouncing off the Piano and hitting me all over my face.

"I love it when you sing this song, you know." I said as the piece ended. She didn't reply, but out of the corner of my eye I saw that beautiful smile, facing the ground. "It's like all this while, I've been playing only half of it on my own."

"Me too," she replied. "except that my playing is nowhere as good as yours, so even though I know how to do both, I still can't pull it off on my own. Can you teach me how to play it?"

"Whoa... so then you wouldn't need me anymore, is that it?" I joked.

"Haha no lah no lah, I can only sing properly when I have full concentration... but even then, it's still not up to standard." the smile was gone.

"Don't let that get to you ok, music is not always classical. I don't think I've ever heard anyone sing 'Melodies' like you do. I could just listen to it... again and again." my cellphone rang. She was still sitting next to me, and now, she was smiling at me...

"No one's ever said that to me before."

A loud voice calling my name echoed down the corridor.

"I think your friends are looking for you." she said.

"Yeah... I uh... I have to go... I think." I replied as she gave me a confused look. "came back to fetch my... wallet."

"Oh ok... I'll see you on Monday then. It was... nice to see you again." she said with that same smile.

My brain and right foot was pointing toward the door, telling me that if I was found in this room with this girl, I would be scandalised till kingdom come by Monday. My heart and left foot on the other hand were frozen in place by her smile, and those large pondorous eyes which for a torturous three seconds waited to see what I would do.

"I'll meet you here on Monday? About 10 in the morning? My... free period." she asked tentatively.

"Y-Ya. Sure. I mean, I'll be here for sure. Got no lessons too." I lied again.

I started to get up and head for the door. What the fuck was I doing?! But then again, was I reading something where there was nothing? I felt a a strong pull on my sleeve.

"Oh one more thing... what you said just now... that was very sweet of you - " and in a blinding flash she planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Uh... ok" What the fuck was I saying?! "I look forward to seeing you on Monday." my sleeve was still in the pincer grip of her right thumb and forefinger for another two seconds.

I gave her one long last look as I went through the door, and she waved back cheekily.

The image of her face was burned into my mind as if with a smoking red-hot brand.

She was beautiful.

*******************************

"Eh where the fuck were you sia?" Sean bellowed as I met him down the corridor.

"Had to take a crap." I said rather uncreatively.

"Huh? Toilet's the other way lah dude... are you alright? You look weird." he replied.

"Ya I know," I snapped. "I decided to use the other toilet 'cause this one's alway so goddamn dirty. Why'd you come all the way back here for me anyway?"

"Whoa take it easy man... you must've had a pretty bad one from the looks of it. Anyway change of plans, we're going to the coffeeshop nearby so they're all coming back to use the rear gate. And you didn't answer your damn phone." he explained.

As I reluctantly followed him off, the sound of the Melodies of Life faded away into the distance.

I did not eat or sleep in peace for the rest of the night.

[GeMiNiZzzzZzz]

I always have likings for long-winded sex stories rather than action-flick stories

[ConsensualLust]

Finally out of moderation , so that I can immediately applause in appreciation of a good short story .

[Komuso]

Many thanks for your kind support, gents

[xyzu]

nice story, camping here to wait you

[Komuso]

IV.

Come the following Monday, it was my turn to be a nervous wreck. I actually checked in the mirror to see how my hair looked in the morning. I even wore better clothes to school too. It can seriously be quite silly, the things a woman can get you to do. And so like a damned fool I waltzed into school looking as fresh as aftershave mixed with toothpaste, which was not the norm for me. And all the while the demons in my head were bickering about whether, as Dooley Wilson sang back in '42, "A kiss is just a kiss". One demon argued that disappointment would incapacitate me for at least a few weeks. The other demon argued that the future was mine to make, and not to wait for. While observing their fight I nearly fell into a drain.

I cut language class to be at the studio at 10am that morning, but she wasn't there. I played all my favourite Uematsu tunes for the next two hours, imagining in vain that the sound would somehow draw her to me. I subsequently left the room in a stupor... I had very nearly played myself to death, wondering after that if everything that happened in the past couple of days was even real, or whether I was becoming delusional.


When I finally had saw her sitting on a park bench out in the open I was still wondering if I was seeing things. Shrugging off my lethargy, I walked over and sat down next to her. She was staring blankly into space, much like the way she did in the Botanic Gardens, as described by that classmate of mine.

"What happened?" I asked her.

"I'm not going to make it." she said as she looked at the ground.

"Want to talk about it?" I continued. There was no response. "C'mon, say something ok. You can tell me about it, you know."

Not knowing what else to do, I pulled out my minidisc player after a long moment of silence. I inserted one of the earphones into her left ear, selected a track, and pressed play. Like before, her eyes magically lit up and widened.

"What's this? I've never heard such music. It's very nice." she said.

"The chorus is coming. Listen to it ok." I replied.

A look of confusion and wonder followed by a smile; I was so glad to see it again. In her ear, the voice of Toshi Deyama resounded with the lyrics of the X Japan classic 'Say Anything'. I gestured to her drawing attention to the significance of the words.

"You're very cute ah - " she said, before I cut her off. "Shh. Pay attention. Good part's coming."

She had probably never heard a guitar solo in her entire life, judging from the look of her face. It was probably good that the first one she heard was played by the legendary Hide (Hideto Matsumoto).

"I want to hear more. And why do they sing as if they're screaming?"

I obligingly spent the next half hour or so sitting there listening to my collection of pirated X Japan ballads together with her.

"Thanks for letting me listen to this... I feel a little better now." she said as she removed the earphone.

"Listen to the same music, and same people, too much and you'll flip sooner or later." I said.

"I guess you're right. That was rock right? I almost never listen to it. But I feel very strange now... almost as if the music said everything that I couldn't say just now when you first came." she said, putting a hand on her forehead. "I can't explain it."

"Well that's what music is for, isn't it? If we could express every idea in our heads with words, what would we need music for?"

As we walked back to the studio, she recounted how earlier that morning she was waylaid by our music tutor, who decided to let her know in no uncertain terms that she was unlikely to meet the standards required for her to pass. Her advice was to drop the subject while she still could. I didn't need to listen to the rest of the details to understand how she felt. This was probably the worst thing a trained musician could hear after so many years, now apparently wasted, practicing the art. As I thought of what to say to her, I strangely felt as if I was speaking to myself as well.

"You know, I've thought long and hard about it," I lied. "and I've come to realise that music will always be with us, no matter what we end up doing."

"Huh? What do you mean by that?" she asked.

"Look at the way you reacted when you heard that song - wasn't it the complete opposite of what you were a few seconds before that? What do you think that means? And I can tell you, there are thousands of people out there who love that song who don't know jack shit about music theory. But they sure as hell would have felt the same thing as you, although perhaps not as strongly."

She laughed.

"Music will always be there for us, as long as we have ears to hear. And it will always tell us something special that we can't normally think about because our thoughts are by and large made up of words."

We reached the studio.

"I see what you mean. Hmmm. I don't feel like going to classes for the rest of the day now." she said with a mischievious look on her face. "Stay with me?"

"Can I say no?" I asked in return. "That was rhetorical, by the way."

"Haha I know... ok show me how you play 'Melodies' again." she said.

"I don't think so. Let's try something different. How's your aural perception?" I placed the earphone in her right ear. "What you heard just now was two guitars playing at the same time. I'll play the lead part and I want you to try and follow with the backing one."

It wasn't long before we were improvising the entire song with four hands on the piano.

"That was beautiful." she said, and I felt the sudden warmth of her head as she placed it on my shoulder.


I turned to look at her. "No. You are."

[Komuso]

Time for a quick intermission...



The guitar solo is at 3:45

[liber]

Camping for more updates

[Komuso]

My sincere thanks to the kind gentleman who upped me

[simple2kee]

interesting story!