Two of Them

Next morning, I wake up pretty early. My dad is talking on his phone. He spots me and says hello.
“Hi, dad.”
“You want some cereal? There’s cereal in the cupboard,” he points. He continues talking on the phone.
Instead of cereal, I crack some eggs and make some toast.
“Where’s Cathy,” I ask. He doesn't hear me. I sigh and eat.
He leaves the kitchen and comes back, wearing fancy clothes.
“You want to come to work with me today?”
“I guess...”

He drives all the way downtown of Hamburg. He gives me a brief tour of the building he owns.
“Anyway, you can hang out at the studio. I have to go to work now. Do some business stuff." He pats my shoulder before dialling someone number on his Blackberry.
“Studio?” I ask.
“It’s on the 12th floor to your right,” he walks away.
I leisurely walk to the elevator and push the button. After waiting a while, the doors open, releasing busy business people with fancy clothes out. They are all on their phones. It made me laugh a bit. Alone in the elevator, it takes me to the 12th floor. I walk around in circles trying to find where I can sit down and chill.
I look through the glass walls and saw a piano. I go inside where it says studio. A lady at a desk didn’t even notice me coming in.
I walk to the piano and sit down. I just pretend as if I know what I'm doing.
After a few minutes, the door of the studio busts open with yelling.
I jump and look towards the noise.
It's Bill and Tom at the door, suddenly staring at me.
“What is she doing here?” Tom spits.
“Nothing. I’m not doing anything—I’m leaving.” I stutter.
“No, it’s okay. Stay. It’s your father’s company anyways.”
“Yeah, and how am I supposed to get any work done?” Tom sarcastically asks.
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving. I was just looking around.”
“There’s nothing to see. So beat it,” he demands.
I'm about to rush out, but Bill holds my arm, dragging me backwards.
“Tom, don’t be a bully. Leave her alone, will you?” Bill sighs.
“She said she was leaving, so let her leave.” Tom shrugs and passes both of us.
Bill shakes his head at me, “Don’t pay attention to him. Besides, it would be great if you hear our music.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” I agree. But then I see Tom grimace at me, “...B—but I should go...”
“Oh come on. Just one song. Automatic is my favourite,” Bill walks up to the computer and clicks a few things. He plays the song and for some reason I got into it right away.
“I like the sound of the guitar in this song. It’s really cool.”
“Tom’s guitar.” He points at his brother. I turn to him.
“You’re really good, Tom.” I smile, trying to get on his good side.
He just stares with an angry face and crosses his arms on his chest. I swallow nervously. I turn back around.
“Can you play an instrument?” Bill asks.
“Uh, no... I can play a little bit of the guitar, though.”
Bill straightens up and grabs a guitar nearby and hands it to me, “Play something.”
I shake my head but Tom snatches it away from Bill and hisses something in German.
Bill tugs it back and replies in German.
Tom groans and sits in the couches. Bill hands me the guitar.
“He’s just upset because it’s his guitar.”
“No, I shouldn’t... if he doesn’t want me to.”
“Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter,” Bill says.
I play a few strings and found a rhythm.
I feel so embarrassed. I really don't know what I'm doing. I try to do the intro to the song I hear.
“It’s double D-8, D-6,” Bill points at the neck of the guitar.
“No, Bill. It’s double D-6, D-8,” Tom corrects.
“He knows everything,” Bill raises his brows.
“Are you finish now?” Tom groans.
“Uh, yeah. I won’t get in your way,” I say. He grabs the guitar out of my hands.
I wave Bill goodbye and left the studio.
I really didn’t understand what Tom has against me.
But my stomach couldn’t help but feel queasy...