Status: Enjoy =P
Heartsong
Heartsong
Music? Yeah, music was good. Lately Dexxy had started listening to more of it. And a lot of different genres too, not just nerdy 8-bit video game stuff. No, real music. The stuff with real feeling. Rock, country, techno, hip-hop, orchestral, everything and anything. Dexter found that he really liked it. And with the music came experimentation.
It started with just some lame, freeware program floating around on the internet. The teen had almost no trouble figuring out how to use it... but mixing the beats was entirely different. He tried and tried and tried. Tutorials, manuals, even tips from pros themselves... well, as close as a computer screen could get him to them. Nothing worked.
As the frustration built, so did the stress. He felt useless. Even Freakazoid was concerned at this point, but Dexter just kept brushing him off. Nothing to worry about, but nothing worked. Nothing nothing nothing.
Until...
Dexter had just walked in the house and already Duncan was pestering him. Mr. Chubbikins was meowing up a storm, tangling himself in Dexter's legs and it was a wonder as to how the lanky teen made it up the stairs alive. Upon opening his bedroom door the teen's luck ran out and he fell face first into his room. Clothes were still thrown about from the previous night's endeavor to find his math book.
Dexter had finally snapped and whirled around, onto his feet, and the door slammed in his brother's and cat's faces before anyone realized what had just happened. The brunette let out a yell into his pillow as he collapsed onto the bed, wanting to cry with embarrassment that he was so worked up. Freakazoid gently nudged their mind link and let out a cry of surprise as he fell back and off the couch from the sheer force of Dexxy pushing him away.
'My poor human...'
Freakazoid was nearly explosive with anxiousness from the situation. If only Dexxy would say it...! Then he could make everything better. Freakazoid always knew how to make everything better. Or, so he thought. He sat – more blue than ever, and that wasn't just a rhetorical thing – on the floor of the Freakazone as everything started to dim out. He suddenly didn't feel like Rat Patrol or junk food when he heard Dexter sniffle – once, twice, three times and then the sobbing came on.
'My poor, poor human..!'
Dexter had the sudden urge to glare at his computer, so he did.
"It's all your fault!" he accused the machine feebly. The machine whirred in response – it's regularly scheduled scan starting up but Dexter didn't care. Hell, he didn't even remember in his state of self pity and as much loathing as a Dexxy could muster at the world. Gritting his teeth, Dexter got up from his place – face down on the bed – and angrily stormed over to the machine. How dare it just sit there and whir at him without so much as an apology.
When Freakazoid felt the waves of anger and annoyance wash over him, he briefly wondered if that was what Duncan felt right before he beat on Dexter. No. Bad Freakazoid. No negative thoughts like that.
'Gotta stay positive, for Dexxy.'
Dexter let his whole 100-pounds-when-soaking-wet self drop into the computer chair, the chair hardly giving a groan. In fact, it was almost laughing at him.
"I'll show you," Dexter said, his voice cracking and he didn't even care. He brought the computer screen back to life and opened the music program.
"I'll show Duncan," he muttered as he blindly dragged pieces of random music onto the timeline. His fingers worked over the keys and mouse furiously. The tapping and clicking was battering the silence harshly like pelts of rain on a tin roof in a hurricane.
"I'll show those idiot bullies at school," Dexer murmured, voice clips now invading the music. Lyrics seemingly not his own flowed from the low volume speakers. From in his mind, Freakazoid watched the geek fascinatedly as the song came together. Instruments and techno beats flowed over one another and everything synced in a yin-yang mix.
"I'll show everyone." Dexter sneered at the screen. Tears blurred his vision and he quickly – angrily – wiped them away.
Hours passed, but no one came to collect the small geek. As the minutes ticked by, Dexter felt that much better and Freakazoid felt his own eyes widen more and more until they looked like they might pop right out of his head. When all was said and done, Dexter saved his project for the millionth time and sat back in his chair in a deflated manner. He rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock on the computer for the first time; 3:14 AM. Dexter frowned and shut his computer down. He collapsed onto his bed in a tired heap, but not before taking off his glasses first.
Months later, when all was said and done, Dexter could happily say that he figured out the trigger. To make emotional music, one has to feel that emotion, and learn to inject that emotion into the music. When Dexxy had first listened to his first composition after that breakdown, Freakazoid nearly flipped both their lids and Dexter was taken aback.
'I made that..?'
Nowadays Dexter poured his emotion into his music instead of letting himself just take the weight of it. He had found a way to be happier. And while people started to like him a little more, he wasn't ready to give up his heartsongs just yet. Maybe in a few more years. Maybe when he became a little more comfortable in his own skin. But maybe... maybe never. Maybe he'd just keep them to himself – and Freakazoid – and never let anyone hear the most intimate of his emotions. Maybe. Just maybe.
Whatever Dexter decided was up to him, and Freakazoid knew it. He smiled happily from the Freakazone as he heard Dexter mixing beats again and they sat there playing their own game of 'volume war' with each other until Dexter finally gave in, turning the volume back down before his mom or dad came in and yelled at him. Freakazoid chuckled and in turn turned his own TV's volume back down. Everything was back to normal – better than normal even.
Music? Yeah, music was pretty good.
It started with just some lame, freeware program floating around on the internet. The teen had almost no trouble figuring out how to use it... but mixing the beats was entirely different. He tried and tried and tried. Tutorials, manuals, even tips from pros themselves... well, as close as a computer screen could get him to them. Nothing worked.
As the frustration built, so did the stress. He felt useless. Even Freakazoid was concerned at this point, but Dexter just kept brushing him off. Nothing to worry about, but nothing worked. Nothing nothing nothing.
Until...
Dexter had just walked in the house and already Duncan was pestering him. Mr. Chubbikins was meowing up a storm, tangling himself in Dexter's legs and it was a wonder as to how the lanky teen made it up the stairs alive. Upon opening his bedroom door the teen's luck ran out and he fell face first into his room. Clothes were still thrown about from the previous night's endeavor to find his math book.
Dexter had finally snapped and whirled around, onto his feet, and the door slammed in his brother's and cat's faces before anyone realized what had just happened. The brunette let out a yell into his pillow as he collapsed onto the bed, wanting to cry with embarrassment that he was so worked up. Freakazoid gently nudged their mind link and let out a cry of surprise as he fell back and off the couch from the sheer force of Dexxy pushing him away.
'My poor human...'
Freakazoid was nearly explosive with anxiousness from the situation. If only Dexxy would say it...! Then he could make everything better. Freakazoid always knew how to make everything better. Or, so he thought. He sat – more blue than ever, and that wasn't just a rhetorical thing – on the floor of the Freakazone as everything started to dim out. He suddenly didn't feel like Rat Patrol or junk food when he heard Dexter sniffle – once, twice, three times and then the sobbing came on.
'My poor, poor human..!'
Dexter had the sudden urge to glare at his computer, so he did.
"It's all your fault!" he accused the machine feebly. The machine whirred in response – it's regularly scheduled scan starting up but Dexter didn't care. Hell, he didn't even remember in his state of self pity and as much loathing as a Dexxy could muster at the world. Gritting his teeth, Dexter got up from his place – face down on the bed – and angrily stormed over to the machine. How dare it just sit there and whir at him without so much as an apology.
When Freakazoid felt the waves of anger and annoyance wash over him, he briefly wondered if that was what Duncan felt right before he beat on Dexter. No. Bad Freakazoid. No negative thoughts like that.
'Gotta stay positive, for Dexxy.'
Dexter let his whole 100-pounds-when-soaking-wet self drop into the computer chair, the chair hardly giving a groan. In fact, it was almost laughing at him.
"I'll show you," Dexter said, his voice cracking and he didn't even care. He brought the computer screen back to life and opened the music program.
"I'll show Duncan," he muttered as he blindly dragged pieces of random music onto the timeline. His fingers worked over the keys and mouse furiously. The tapping and clicking was battering the silence harshly like pelts of rain on a tin roof in a hurricane.
"I'll show those idiot bullies at school," Dexer murmured, voice clips now invading the music. Lyrics seemingly not his own flowed from the low volume speakers. From in his mind, Freakazoid watched the geek fascinatedly as the song came together. Instruments and techno beats flowed over one another and everything synced in a yin-yang mix.
"I'll show everyone." Dexter sneered at the screen. Tears blurred his vision and he quickly – angrily – wiped them away.
Hours passed, but no one came to collect the small geek. As the minutes ticked by, Dexter felt that much better and Freakazoid felt his own eyes widen more and more until they looked like they might pop right out of his head. When all was said and done, Dexter saved his project for the millionth time and sat back in his chair in a deflated manner. He rubbed at his eyes and looked at the clock on the computer for the first time; 3:14 AM. Dexter frowned and shut his computer down. He collapsed onto his bed in a tired heap, but not before taking off his glasses first.
Months later, when all was said and done, Dexter could happily say that he figured out the trigger. To make emotional music, one has to feel that emotion, and learn to inject that emotion into the music. When Dexxy had first listened to his first composition after that breakdown, Freakazoid nearly flipped both their lids and Dexter was taken aback.
'I made that..?'
Nowadays Dexter poured his emotion into his music instead of letting himself just take the weight of it. He had found a way to be happier. And while people started to like him a little more, he wasn't ready to give up his heartsongs just yet. Maybe in a few more years. Maybe when he became a little more comfortable in his own skin. But maybe... maybe never. Maybe he'd just keep them to himself – and Freakazoid – and never let anyone hear the most intimate of his emotions. Maybe. Just maybe.
Whatever Dexter decided was up to him, and Freakazoid knew it. He smiled happily from the Freakazone as he heard Dexter mixing beats again and they sat there playing their own game of 'volume war' with each other until Dexter finally gave in, turning the volume back down before his mom or dad came in and yelled at him. Freakazoid chuckled and in turn turned his own TV's volume back down. Everything was back to normal – better than normal even.
Music? Yeah, music was pretty good.
♠ ♠ ♠
Enjoy. =P