Status: On hiatus
Falling
Chapter Eleven: Impress
I saw Aiden seated on the bench outside of restaurant. He was looking down at his phone and I thought if I left right now he wouldn't see me and I could forget about this whole 'confess my soul' thing. But as my luck would have it he looked up at that very moment, he smiled sweetly and waved at me. I walked over and sat next to him. “Hey you.” He said.
“Hi Aiden.”
“Ready?”
I nodded and we headed into the Chinese restaurant and got some take out. Aiden lived nearby but we drove my car to his place. I was a little nervous about being completely alone with him, but I couldn't back out now. He took out his key and we stepped into his apartment.
It was a studio, one big room. He had the living room and kitchen separated by a few shoji screens, black and white in colour and hand painted it seemed. His furniture were thrift store hand me downs but still nice. His sofa was bright orange, his kitchen table a dark wood that seated four with mix match chairs. He had his things organized, a bookshelf that was overflowing, CD and DVD's in his modest entertainment center that housed an old television. Aiden was quiet as he let me look around his place. There were two doors near the makeshift living room. The bathroom and bedroom? He had a upright piano and an acoustic guitar in the far corner near his TV.
And then there was the artwork, it was everywhere. Beautiful painted pieces of an abstract nature hung from the walls, canvases, half done, sat leaning against the walls. There were sketches of people and random objects. Photographs of everything under the sun and even a self portrait done in charcoal.
“You did all this?” I said in amazement.
Aiden had began setting the food out in the coffee table. “Yeah.” he answered rather shyly.
“It's.... amazing.”
“Thanks.”
He went and got us both some cans of soda from the fridge, while I admired his work. My eyes lingered on painted one of a woman who seemed to be naked in the rain. “Who's she?”
“Figment of my imagination.” He chuckled deep and low. “Sit.”
I joined him on the couch, he switched the television on leaned back. We ate in a content sort of silence, watching a Doctor Who rerun where the Doctor and Martha only have forty two minutes to save a ship from crashing into the earth. I found myself lost in my very own David Tennant fantasy which turned into Aiden as the Doctor, but was snapped out of it once the commercial came on.
“I didn't know you were a Whovian.” Aiden asked once we finished eating.
“Who isn't?” I joked. He took our things to the trash. “I could have done that myself.” I told him.
He shook his head. “Nonsense.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I gestured with my hand to the walls.
“Forever.”
“You're amazing. Do you sell any of them?”
“Yeah, I have to. Struggling artist you know.”
“Ugh huh. You are brilliant.”
“Stop that or I might start getting a bighead.” I laughed. I turned to the piano, it was colourfully painted as well. I got up and walked over to it and sat down on the bench. Aiden joined me, he was so close I could feel his body heat and smell his cologne, or was that his natural scent? He smiled as my fingertips brushed the keys. “Do you play?” He asked.
“Yeah. My mom made us learn. I started when I was five, I hated the lessons, they were three times a week plus mom made me and my sister practice daily.”
“So you hate it.”
“No... I love it actually, well I've grown to love it that is.” I smiled to myself.
I missed playing, although I hadn't realized it until this very moment. I assumed that part of myself died along with everything else I used to love when I was younger. My fingers began playing The Beatles “Sexy Sadie” since it's riff was the first to pop into my head. I could see Aiden smiling out the corner of my eye. I switched gears and began playing Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture. I was a little rusty, I haven't played in months but after a minute or two I got lost in the music and let my fingers guide me. I broke into a little Bach, Mozart, Beethoven's Symphony no. 9: Ode to Joy and a little Bohemian Rhapsody for good measure. I was so lost in my own worlds, not sure how long I played but when I finished Aiden clapped.
“Wow.”
I blushed. “That was nothing.”
“Yes it was. I can barely play the thing, it's here more or less to fancy this place up.” He beamed at me. “You've got talent, real talent Dylan. Why aren't you doing that as a living? Making music, playing symphonies?” I shrugged. “It's not too late you know.”
I was supposed to study music at college but that plan feel through, it had been my dream, yes but like I said my dreams had died away long ago. “Yeah well,” I said “I don't think it'll happen.”
“You really should have more confidence than that.” He playfully nudged my shoulder with his.
“Yeah, well, it isn't so easily obtained.”
We caught each others eye and stared at one another for a long time, not speaking. He brushed a stand of my red hair from my face and licked his lips. I held my breath, my pulse pounding so loud it blocked out my hearing. We were close enough to feel each others breath, then he closed the distance.
“Hi Aiden.”
“Ready?”
I nodded and we headed into the Chinese restaurant and got some take out. Aiden lived nearby but we drove my car to his place. I was a little nervous about being completely alone with him, but I couldn't back out now. He took out his key and we stepped into his apartment.
It was a studio, one big room. He had the living room and kitchen separated by a few shoji screens, black and white in colour and hand painted it seemed. His furniture were thrift store hand me downs but still nice. His sofa was bright orange, his kitchen table a dark wood that seated four with mix match chairs. He had his things organized, a bookshelf that was overflowing, CD and DVD's in his modest entertainment center that housed an old television. Aiden was quiet as he let me look around his place. There were two doors near the makeshift living room. The bathroom and bedroom? He had a upright piano and an acoustic guitar in the far corner near his TV.
And then there was the artwork, it was everywhere. Beautiful painted pieces of an abstract nature hung from the walls, canvases, half done, sat leaning against the walls. There were sketches of people and random objects. Photographs of everything under the sun and even a self portrait done in charcoal.
“You did all this?” I said in amazement.
Aiden had began setting the food out in the coffee table. “Yeah.” he answered rather shyly.
“It's.... amazing.”
“Thanks.”
He went and got us both some cans of soda from the fridge, while I admired his work. My eyes lingered on painted one of a woman who seemed to be naked in the rain. “Who's she?”
“Figment of my imagination.” He chuckled deep and low. “Sit.”
I joined him on the couch, he switched the television on leaned back. We ate in a content sort of silence, watching a Doctor Who rerun where the Doctor and Martha only have forty two minutes to save a ship from crashing into the earth. I found myself lost in my very own David Tennant fantasy which turned into Aiden as the Doctor, but was snapped out of it once the commercial came on.
“I didn't know you were a Whovian.” Aiden asked once we finished eating.
“Who isn't?” I joked. He took our things to the trash. “I could have done that myself.” I told him.
He shook his head. “Nonsense.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I gestured with my hand to the walls.
“Forever.”
“You're amazing. Do you sell any of them?”
“Yeah, I have to. Struggling artist you know.”
“Ugh huh. You are brilliant.”
“Stop that or I might start getting a bighead.” I laughed. I turned to the piano, it was colourfully painted as well. I got up and walked over to it and sat down on the bench. Aiden joined me, he was so close I could feel his body heat and smell his cologne, or was that his natural scent? He smiled as my fingertips brushed the keys. “Do you play?” He asked.
“Yeah. My mom made us learn. I started when I was five, I hated the lessons, they were three times a week plus mom made me and my sister practice daily.”
“So you hate it.”
“No... I love it actually, well I've grown to love it that is.” I smiled to myself.
I missed playing, although I hadn't realized it until this very moment. I assumed that part of myself died along with everything else I used to love when I was younger. My fingers began playing The Beatles “Sexy Sadie” since it's riff was the first to pop into my head. I could see Aiden smiling out the corner of my eye. I switched gears and began playing Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture. I was a little rusty, I haven't played in months but after a minute or two I got lost in the music and let my fingers guide me. I broke into a little Bach, Mozart, Beethoven's Symphony no. 9: Ode to Joy and a little Bohemian Rhapsody for good measure. I was so lost in my own worlds, not sure how long I played but when I finished Aiden clapped.
“Wow.”
I blushed. “That was nothing.”
“Yes it was. I can barely play the thing, it's here more or less to fancy this place up.” He beamed at me. “You've got talent, real talent Dylan. Why aren't you doing that as a living? Making music, playing symphonies?” I shrugged. “It's not too late you know.”
I was supposed to study music at college but that plan feel through, it had been my dream, yes but like I said my dreams had died away long ago. “Yeah well,” I said “I don't think it'll happen.”
“You really should have more confidence than that.” He playfully nudged my shoulder with his.
“Yeah, well, it isn't so easily obtained.”
We caught each others eye and stared at one another for a long time, not speaking. He brushed a stand of my red hair from my face and licked his lips. I held my breath, my pulse pounding so loud it blocked out my hearing. We were close enough to feel each others breath, then he closed the distance.