Twisted Symphony

Adam was simply the messenger boy. I thought he was my best friend, but he became the messenger boy. And I don’t need any more messenger boys. I haven’t spoken to Adam since our dinner. I won’t answer his phone calls. I won’t reply to his text messages. I’ve become an ice cold wall to his efforts. I didn’t know it was in me, I really didn’t, but I managed to let him leave yesterday without so much as a goodbye. I let him take himself to LaGuardia, with no one waiting for him on the other side of the gate.

Suddenly it’s Friday morning and my ticket has already come. It’s six in the morning and when I woke up my ticket home was on my desk. They must’ve done it. They must’ve come earlier today. I couldn’t sleep and I somehow woke up way to early. The ticket makes my stomach flop. I know I’m going home, I know it. I still haven’t told Reid. I know, I’m a terrible person. Kayla is sleeping like a rock. Johnnie still hasn’t accepted her advances and she walks herself around this place like she’s a skeleton. I feel for her I really do, and in some strange way I am going to really miss her.

I quietly pull my huge suitcase and duffle bag out of the closet. She sleeps like a rock anyway. I slowly begin to empty out my wardrobe and fold my clothes neatly into my suitcase. I change into an outfit and put the rest away. Then I pack away my laptop, my pictures, my toiletries, I clean off my desk and take all my books from the book shelf. Then I make sure that everything that made this room me is gone. Clean for the next person who deserves it. I take one last look around and everything is clean. I have got plenty of time, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

I don’t think an opportunity like this will ever come to me again. Definitely not around people like this. So I want to enjoy my last day, not pack in front of them. I’m happy I got up early. I enjoy that baby grand one more time, just for a few hours. I take my journal and go to a practice room upstairs. I set up my journal and open it up. I throw my hair up into a messy bun an get my pencil out. The second my fingers make contact with the keys everything feels amazing. If only for a moment everything feels okay. The knot in my stomach is unraveling and I can breathe.

My concept of time is completely gone. I think I’ve been here forever. I’m working on a song now. Well it would be more productive if I didn’t erase the same string of notes a hundred times and do it over. I’ve sung the same three words a hundred times, trying to get the notes right.

“It’s a C flat.” I turn to the doors and see Johnnie. He’s rubbing his eye and he’s still in his pajamas, mesh shorts and a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. He’s got some serious bed head. It must still be early.

“What time is it?”

“It’s like 8:00. How many times am I going to have to unpack your shit?” He sits in the chair in the corner and flips it around so he sits in it the way her always does. I ignore him and begin to play again. He’ll get the picture. Or I’ll kick his ass. Whichever comes first.

“I told you it’s C flat!” He yells groggily.

“Just because you tell me something doesn’t make it true.” I snap.

“Can you try C-flat and stop being so stubborn!”

“Fine.” I play a single note. C-flat.

“Come on. Play the piece with the C-flat.” I begin to play the piece and he walks over to the
baby grand and leans on it. “Good,” he smirks. “Now sing the lyrics. There are lyrics on that paper.” He points.

“You can’t just unpack my personal property. You can’t touch my stuff. What’s wrong with you?” I hiss.

“I’ll sing it. Play.” He motions as if what I’ve just said is totally irreverent.. He walks over to the piano bench near me and rest a hand on the baby grand. I just begin to play. And he taps his hand on the piano, keeping the beat and looking at the paper.

“It’s sort of personal.” I cover up the pages with my hands.

“A brooding artist?” He’s got that smirk of his pasted on his face.

“Get out.” I order.

“Scared I’ll find you out?” He walks back to his seat.

“I’m not scared of you. Let’s just get that straight. Second of all, I don’t owe you anything. I’m going home anyways!” I retort.

“Can you stop saying that? You’re not going home Gabrielle!” He runs his hands threw his hair and it sticks up at all ends.

“Thank you for finding me.” I turn to him. “But I don’t have time to pretend anymore.” I shrug.

“That’s it?” He narrows his eyes at me.

“That’s it.” I shrug.

“I never thought of you as a quitter.” He says spitefully.

“I’m not!” Scattering for my things, following him out of the practice room.
“Looks like it.” He shrugs his lightly tan shoulders.

“You don’t even get it! Wake up Johnnie!” I say through gritted teeth as we stand in the elevator.

It doesn’t take very long to get back to my dorm room. It really only takes a few empty minutes. Johnnie leads the way as I list all the reasons I’m not a quitter inside of my head. He walks into my doorway and Kayla has a look of horror on her face. The moment I glance over at my bed I know why. I feel this lump swell in my throat. My Mother is sitting there with Meghan, on my bed.

“Wait for me.” Kayla says to Johnnie and rushes into the bathroom to take a shower. As if he were actually here for her.

Johnnie just stands right next to me with his arms crossed.

“I tried to stop her.” Meghan looks at me pleadingly.

“Meghan!” My mother snaps.

“Gabrielle why are you telling everyone that you aren’t going home? I can’t believe I have to actually escort you! I can’t trust any of you anymore! Be an adult for a moment, will you?!” She’s hard. Stone cold.

“I don’t deserve to go home.” I don’t look at her. I just look down.

“And you really think this is a matter of how much you deserve this or not?” She sighs an puts two fingers to her forehead.

“This isn’t about you. It’s about Meghan.” She explains. “No matter. You’re going home, pack your things.” She orders.

“Mom stop!” Meghan objects.

“Meghan Marie don’t start.” She glares at my sister.

“You don’t need this Gabrielle. Why are you being so difficult?” She sighs.

“I just…I guess not.” I shrug and look at my feet. “Sorry.” I say weakly. I can’t do this. Nope, I can’t. I know it’s over.

“With all due respect Ms. Danes when was the last time you heard your daughter play the Piano?” Johnnie asks. His words are strong, stable, but not disrespectful. What? Why is he talking? My mother remains silent. “If you haven’t heard her play in so long may I ask as to why you’re making the assumption that she doesn’t need this? Nor does she belong here according to you?” Silence from my mother. “I mean no disrespect in the way in which I am expressing myself and I completely understand why you would feel that this is none of my business, but Gabrielle is extremely talented. Did you know she can sing? Or that fact that she probably spends more time in practice rooms than actually enjoying the city? She barley knows how to get around the block.”

“Excuse me?” She crosses her arms defensively. Oh I hope he doesn’t die like this. My mother shoots him a cold glare with her green daggers.

“What I choose to do with my daughter is none of your concern.” She shrugs.

“I understand that ma’am, but once she leaves this building there is no going back. Once a student drops out of Hildebrandt you can’t reapply for the follow summer, so if you don’t care about this program or what it has to offer imagine how many doors of opportunity you’re closing for your daughter against her will. Doesn’t that bother you? Fine. Take her back to Illinois, but is it really worth your daughter resenting for you.” Johnnie looks straight into her eyes. My Mothers face softens, but only for a second or two.

“I don’t know who you think you are young man, but if you think you have the right to tell me how to raise my child then you are sorely mistaken.” She turns to me. “Meet me for lunch at the café on the corner. Noon.” She says sharply.

“Wait!” I shout.

“What is it?” She turns back to me.

“Am I going home.” My skin crawls at the thought.

“We need to talk.” She breathes and perches her sunglasses back on her nose, leaving with Megan in toe; her shackled prisoner.

“Why did you do that?” I acknowledge Johnnies small victory on my behalf.

“You didn’t honestly believe I would leave you to face her alone did you?” He smirks.

“Besides it’s more fun proving you wrong.” He shrugs.

“Thank you.” I smile.

“Don’t thank me just yet.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets.