As the Piano Keys Rang

Brendon awoke Saturday morning, earlier than usual. He rushed downstairs in his pajamas, jumping down two steps at a time. He slid into the kitchen, colliding with a counter to stop himself. He looked around. No one was there. He went into the living room. On floor lay three suitcases, filled and zipped. He turned towards the door. The door was open and the car was running. Brendon went outside. The car was reversed in the driveway and the trunk door was open and empty. His dad came out of the driver’s side and scurried towards the door. “Good morning, son. Awfully early for you to be up,” he passed him and went to the living room. He grabbed two of the suitcases and began working his way back to the car, passing Brendon again.

“Where are you going?” Brendon said following him to the edge of the trunk.

“I am going into the city for the weekend. I got a business convention I have to be at,” he loaded both bags in before leaning against the side of the car.

“Are we almost ready?” said a voice behind them. Brendon turned and saw his mother on the porch with the other suitcase in hand. She was dressed and ready to go.

“Mom’s going too?” Brendon asked his dad as his mom came up to where they were standing.

“Oh, yes. I figured I could use a little vacation from all this moving drama and you kids are old enough to take care of each other now, so what the heck,” his mom giggled and handed the other bag to Brendon’s dad who put it with the others in the trunk.

“I wouldn’t call fifteen minutes away a vacation,” Brendon smiled, slightly confused.

“Oh, no, son,” his dad laughed, “when I said the city, I meant LA.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah,” Brendon said furrowing his eyebrows and crossing his arms.

“But you’ll be okay, right? You can take care till Monday?” his mom said worriedly. His parents had never both been away from home before.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll keep Sarah entertained and fed, keep the house clean, and make sure I don’t burn it to the ground or anything. I can do it,” Brendon reassured his uneasy mother.

“Okay. Well, be careful!” his mother said before climbing into the passenger seat.

“We left you some money for food on the kitchen table,” his dad said scrambling into his side, too.

“Bye. Have a great time,” Brendon waved them off as they pulled out, watching them until they drove out of sight. Then, he realized that he was still in his pajamas in the driveway. He skipped up into the house, knowing this would be a good weekend.

Sarah was awake soon enough. She came down stairs and saw Brendon watching TV in the living room. “Where’s mom and dad?” she rubbed her right eye as the sunlight beamed into the house.

“They went to LA for the weekend. I guess you’re stuck with me,” Brendon said flipping the channels.

“But I was suppost to sleep over at Claire’s!” she stomped her foot and crossed her arms.

“Well, why can’t you, now?” Brendon said.

“Well, doesn’t the whole leaving the siblings together at home thing mean I can’t go anywhere?” she took a seat on the couch next to him.

“No, you can go. Dad left me his car, so I can drive you there. Its fine,” Brendon said trying to make sure her tweeny temper didn’t explode.

“Fine. But it still sucks that Mom can’t take me,” she collapsed onto the back of the couch, pouting.

“Since when do you say things suck?” Brendon turned to her, confused.

“I’m in middle school now! Everyone says that!” she shook her head like he was the stupidest human she had ever come in contact with.

“Whatever. Just don’t let mom and dad hear you say that,” Brendon tossed the remote into her lap and ran up stairs suddenly remembering that he needed to keep his phone on him at all times.

He grabbed it off the bedside table and checked it. It was almost eleven and no one had called. He tucked it into the pocket of his sweatpants and came back down stairs. His sister was watching some MTV video show and the “My Humps” video was playing loudly out the speakers. Brendon shook his head and went to the kitchen. He looked and as said, his dad left a generous amount of money on the table.

“Hey, Sarah. You want to go get some groceries for the weekend,” Brendon shouted as he counted the cash.

Suddenly, Sarah was in the doorway. She nodded her head quickly and ran upstairs to get dressed. Brendon sighed and went up to his room. He pulled on some gray jeans, which were as close to the ones Ryan bought as he had, and a light blue t-shirt. He put on his black vans and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He came back down stairs and his sister was waiting, impatiently, on the couch. Brendon stuffed the cash into his pocket, along with his phone and grabbed the keys off the hook. His sister followed him and they drove up a block or two to the corner store.

They went in grabbing the necessary items, like milk and eggs, and then picked out their meal for Sunday night. Brendon let his sister choose. Macaroni and Cheese, it was. “What are you gonna eat tonight while I’m at Claire’s?” his sister asked.

“I’ll probably just order a pizza or something,” Brendon decided not to tell her that he might be hanging out with his friends.

They went up to pay and put their basket on the conveyor. Brendon pulled the money out of his pocket.

“Hey, you,” the cashier said in Brendon’s direction.

Brendon looked up towards the register. “Ryan?”

“Yeah. I know. Really horrible job, but gas don’t buy itself. Is this your sister?” he asked, flitting his eyes in Sarah’s direction.

“Yes, I am. Who are you?” Sarah said pursing her lips and staring up at him though slitted eyes.

“I’m Ryan. I’m your brother’s friend from school. I’m the one that gives him rides every day,” Ryan smiled his impossible not to like smile in her direction.

“Oh, you’re the one! Well, I’m Sarah,” she said rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Very nice to meet you, Sarah. $26.78. So are we hanging out today?” he turned his attention back to Brendon, still smiling.

Brendon counted the money nervously in his hands. He handed him the proper amount. “Yeah, sure. When do you get off?”

Ryan pulled out his phone from his back pocket and checked the time, “In about an hour. I’ll call you once I get home and shower and stuff.”

Brendon smiled, “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you later than.”

“You too. Hey, don’t forget your bag.”

“Yeah, of course. Bye,” Brendon shrugged before walking out of the store. Sarah followed him to the car. Once they were inside and pulling out of the parking lot, the questions began.

“How do you know him?”

“I met him in school.”

“Is he the same age as you?”

“No, he’s a year older.”

“Why are you so nervous around him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t know. You just seem really jumpy around him and you barely looked him in the eye, once,” she paused. “Is it cause you think he’s cute?”

Brendon slammed on the brakes in the middle of the parking lot, “What!?!”

“I was just wondering. I think he’s cute.”

Brendon shook his head and continued driving. “Do you think I like dudes or something?”

“Well, I know you like something cause you’ve been bopping around the house like a 12 year old girl all week. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, if you’re not stupid, why do ask so many questions?” Brendon said turning into the driveway.

Sarah glared at him before grabbing the bags and running for the front door.

Brendon sighed, turning off the car and glad to be free of Sarah’s interrogation. He walked up the stairs to his room and went into his bathroom. He took a shower in the hottest water possible and when he came out he could barely see his hand in front of his face through the steam. He pulled on the same jeans and shirt and went down stairs shaking his wet hair until it wasn’t extensively wet. It smelled fresh and clean.

“Way to take like the longest shower ever,” Sarah said not bothering to turn her head as Brendon walked in.

Brendon checked the clock. It was past three. Shit. “Is it time for you to go to your friend’s house?”

“Yes, actually, it is,” she got off the couch and pulled on her backpack that lay next to her.

Brendon and her drove about fifteen minutes to drop her off. “Call me if you need anything,” he told her before driving away. He finally was alone. He turned up the radio loud until he felt a buzzing in his pocket. He panicked and switched the music off. He maneuvered his hands so that he could drive and grab his phone. “Hello?” he answered without looking.

“Brendon! How are you doing? Everything all right?”

Brendon sighed, “Yes. Everything is fine, mom.”

“I just wanted to call and make sure. Everything is fine here, also! Your dad should be getting back from a meeting soon and then we are gonna go look around the city,” his mom’s voice was dreamy and happy.

“That’s great. I just dropped Sarah off at her friend’s house for a sleepover and I’m going home now to hang out for the rest of the night,” his tone was breathy and impatient because he felt very controlled, filling his mom in on every detail.

“Okay, very good. Just checking up. I have to go though, so I’ll call you tomorrow,” his mom’s voice sounded slow and sure like she seriously thought something bad would happen.

“Okay, mom. Bye,” Brendon hung up on her before she said bye, slightly annoyed that she didn’t trust him. He was seventeen for god’s sake.

He pulled into his driveway. It was only about four o’clock now. He walked in, throwing the keys on the table. He looked outside the living room window and onto the street. A car passed by and he spun around facing the opposite direction. His piano caught his eye.

He walked over to it, putting his phone on the music rack and sitting down at bench they had gotten delivered that week. He felt the imprint in the wood from the numerous people who had sat in it before him. He placed his hands over the keys and escaped. He tried to listen, tried to hear the music. He could but it was distant and foreign to him. It was just whispering in his ear. He could hear its beauty, though. Ryan was right. It was in a minor key, but instead of sounding heavy or booming, it sounded sultry and upbeat. Filled with syncopation, it definitely was not something Brendon had read before. He must have just mixed up his mind pretty hard to get this one. He continued to play and listen as it murmured in his ear, almost whining. He couldn’t place the feeling it had though.

His phone began ringing and making a musical mess on the music rack. He stopped playing and picked it up. “Hello?” he said.

“Hey. It’s Ryan,” said a perky voice on the other side of the phone.

“Oh, heeyyy Ryan,” Brendon said blinking a couple times trying to come back to life.

“You were just playing, weren’t you,” Brendon could hear him smiling through the phone.

“You know me too well, Ryan Ross,” Brendon chuckled.

“Well, what are you doing tonight?” Ryan asked.

“Uh, nothing. My parents are gone for the weekend and my sister is at her friend’s for a sleepover. You and Spence can just come over and chill, if you want,” Brendon got up from the piano and crossed the room looking out the window again. The sun was beginning to set now. It must be about six thirty. Brendon closed his eyes to calm himself.

“Spencer, actually, is celebrating Thanksgiving in Canada,” Ryan laughed.

“He’s what?” Brendon opened his eyes.

“I don’t know, he had family in Canada and they celebrate it in October so he’s there till Tuesday,” Ryan laughed again obviously thinking it was hilarious.

“Well, okay. No Spencer then. You can just come over whenever,” Brendon tightening his shoulders in a semi-permanent shrug.

“Okay. I’ll be over in like two minutes then.” Ryan hung up.

Brendon looked around his house and ran up to his room, in attempt to find anything that shouldn’t be out. He tidied up his CD collection and put on some deodorant before the doorbell rang. He bounded downstairs, running for the door. He opened it and saw Ryan standing tall on the other side. “Hey. Come on in,” he threw out is hand in an inviting way.

Ryan stepped inside. He had already been in there before. “What’s up?”

“Not much. Still confused about the whole Canadian Thanksgiving thing but I think my brain will survive. What do you want to do? Order pizza or watch a movie or just raid my room?” Brendon hadn’t planned this very well and he was afraid that he was gonna seem boring to Ryan.

“How about you order pizza, while I raid your room for movies,” Ryan smiled.

Brendon nodded and led him up the stairs and turned into his room. The bedside lamp was off, but the sunset was lighting the room enough to see. “What do you want on it?” Brendon asked pulling out his phone.

“Anything really, I don’t mind,” Ryan said as he quickly found Brendon’s movie collection. He searched it meticulously, while Brendon stared at him from the doorway with his phone to his ear. He was wearing the pants he bought yesterday. Brendon had done well to advise him towards them. They fit perfectly. Brendon continued to stare as he talked his way into ordering.

“It will be here in about twenty minutes,” Brendon said snapping his phone shut. Ryan turned, movie in hand, and began to walk towards him. “What did you pick?” he asked.

“Moulin Rouge. I figured I haven’t seen it in about a month and that’s about 29 days too many.”

“Good. I never get tired of this one,” Brendon grabbed the box from his hand and ran down the stairs.

They started the movie and it wasn’t long before the pizza came. They snacked on it, sparingly, but Brendon began to notice something. About halfway through the movie, Ryan wasn’t even watching it. His eyes were focused on the piano. Brendon’s piano. Brendon let it go at first but when it continued he paused the movie, “Do you like it?”

Ryan looked back at him. Brendon stared at him then the piano. Ryan understood they were on the same page now. “Yeah, I do.”

“It’s been in my family for years. They always pass it down to the best player,” Brendon eyes glowed as he talked about it. He was proud of the family heirloom.

“So your dad was pretty good, then?” Ryan asked not taking his eyes off of it.

“I guess. He stopped playing when he started having kids. My grandfather told me he was pretty good though.”

“So then who taught you?” Ryan asked turning his glance toward Brendon.

“I had a teacher for couple years, but once you learn the theory, you can pretty much pick any instrument up.”

“So this isn’t the only thing you do?” Ryan asked in disbelief.

“Didn’t you see the guitars in my room? I do those and some other string instruments. A little harmonica and accordion that my grandpa taught me. I can fend for myself on a drum set. It’s all the same after a certain point of learning,” Brendon didn’t sound arrogant or conceded. He was honest and even slightly embarrassed of his music geekdom.

“Do you float off the same way when you play all of those?” Ryan’s face was expressionless except for his eyes that were alive and focused.

“I don’t think so. I think that’s strictly a piano thing,” Brendon rubbed his arm self consciously.

“Can you play it for me?” he flicked his eyes towards the antique.

Brendon paused looking into his eyes. They were at their lightest against the twilight outside the window. He nodded his head and got up crossing the room. He sat down at the piano and placed his fingers against the white keys. He took a deep breath and began playing. He was trying to make himself aware of his surroundings. He kept his eyes on the keys as he saw his fingers move over them like well trained spiders. He heard the same song as before, still with the indescribable whisper tickling his ear. In his peripheral vision, he saw Ryan sit next to him on the bench. He could feel the hazel eyes on his face, but he continued to watch his fingers.

Time passed by before Ryan put his large hand over Brendon’s shoulder. Brendon stopped playing and turned.

“Why that song? Why always that one?” he asked.

“I think it’s your fault,” Brendon voice was hushed and his mind was still a bit cloudy.

“What do you mean?” Ryan’s eyes squinted in misunderstanding.

“I have only been playing it since I met you. Do you hear it? It has a sound, a feeling that I can’t explain,” Brendon looked towards the couch in thought.

“It’s like it is reaching out and caressing your face with its hand. It’s whimpering in your ear and begging you to keep playing. The sound could fog up a room in a second, yet it doesn’t want, it hopes. It’s partly lust, but mostly just pure passion,” Ryan whispered through the darkness, as the view of his eyes was fading as the night sky turned black.

“Yeah. Just like that,” Brendon smiled to himself and turned his eyes back to Ryan.

“So this is my song?” Ryan asked as he inched his face close to Brendon’s.

Brendon suddenly felt completely recovered and awake. “Yeah, it’s defiantly your song.” He moved the same way Ryan did until they weren’t more than a centimeter apart. Ryan reached an inch further and his lips were on Brendon’s.

Brendon’s stomach dropped. All he could see was the back of his own eyelids. All he could smell was Ryan, who smelled nice, like Irish Springs soap. All he could feel was Ryan’s mouth against his and an overwhelming feeling below that made him feel sick to his stomach. And all he could hear was the sweet melody of the song playing through his head.

Ryan let go and backed his face away, “was that okay?”

Brendon opened his eyes, “what do you mean?”

“Do you mind that I did that?” he bit his bottom lip.

“I would only mind, if you didn’t do it again,” Brendon smiled wide and he saw Ryan’s white teeth show through the darkness.

Ryan got up behind Brendon. He turned around and Ryan kissed him again. This time harder, pushing his shoulders back into the piano and making an ugly sounding chord. They stayed like that until the sound faded off. Brendon stood up, taking Ryan by the hand and leading him up the stairs.

Once they reached his room, Brendon lay down on the bed and Ryan lay next to him. Ryan pulled at Brendon’s shirt, then his own until they were both on the floor beside him. He wrapped his arms around Brendon’s waist and dragged until their skin collided. They kissed again and again until their heads were too tired to lift.

“Come here,” Brendon said as he rested Ryan’s head on his chest. Ryan obeyed and shut his eyes while Brendon ran his fingers over his bony spine. He didn’t know how long it was exactly, but Ryan breaths got slower and easier until he was asleep. Brendon smiled to himself as he set his alarm on the bedside, kissed Ryan’s forehead, and dozed off, happier than he’d ever been without a piano underneath his fingers.