Invisible

I sat down in Patrick’s living room, feeling very uncomfortable. I was suddenly very conscious of the fact that we were alone, the fact that it was just the two of us.

Looking around the cosy, homey room, I felt the unease lessen slightly. The surroundings had an oddly calming effect on me, I’m pretty sure it was because it reminded me so much of my own living room.

‘So, where do you want to start?’ Patrick asked, getting out his guitar.

‘Well, I’m not much use without a piano…’ I trailed off chuckling hollowly, looking awkwardly away and trying not to meet his gaze.

‘I have something to show you,’ he said, a small smile finding its way on to his face. To my surprise, he took my hand and led me through the front room and down some stairs to the basement. I looked around in confusion until my sights rested on a baby grand piano in the corner of the room.

My eyes widened in obvious delight as I near enough sprinted over there and sat down on the black, polished bench.

I slid my fingers over the pale ivory keys, itching to play something.

It was as though Patrick was reading my thoughts because he said, ‘Go on, play me something.’ He grinned over at me before, I began playing. I already knew what I was going to play – my favourite piece – Beethoven’s moonlight sonata. My fingers ghosted effortlessly over the keys. I’d played this piece hundreds of times, it was like second nature to me. I didn’t have to concentrate on what I was playing, the notes ingrained in my memory so I let
myself get lost in the music.

My eyelids fell closed, and I enjoyed the music, it had been so long since I’d played anything. When my dad passed away I stopped playing. When I was younger, he and I would often sit down by the piano and play together, he taught me everything I knew and it hurt to play when he wasn’t sitting by my side.

As the last note hung poignantly in the air, I opened my eyes. My vision was bleary, I hadn’t even realised, but I had started crying.

Patrick stood on the other side of the piano, mouth hanging open. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

‘That, that was amazing Jess…when you said you could play piano, I thought you meant a little bit.’ He said as he walked around the musical instrument. ‘Why are you crying? I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but if you want to you could…’ he rambled
adorably.

I’m not completely sure why, but I felt like I could tell Patrick of my father and how he died. I felt like I could open up to him and tell him things that I hadn’t told anyone – not even my mom.

I told him how stupidly unfair life was and how I wasn’t sure I could live without my dad. He was my rock, I was always so much closer to him than my mom – you could say I was a daddy’s girl.

Patrick took all of this in and listened, he nodded at the right times, smiled at the right times, he was the perfect listener.

‘I’m glad I told you all of this Patrick, thank you…’ I smiled sadly at him, dabbing the few remaining tears from my face.

‘It’s okay Jess,’ he brought me into a friendly hug. I slung my arms around his neck and hugged him close. Right then, he felt like the only person in the world who I could truly trust, who I could truly count on.

‘Right,’ I said, quickly altering the mood of the room, ‘let’s get started on this music project!’ I clapped my hands enthusiastically before pushing Patrick in the direction of his beaten up Fender Stratocaster.

As he picked up his guitar, for the first time I truly looked around the room, there was a Gibson bass hung on the wall, and a drum kit in the opposite corner to the piano I was sitting at. They all looked fairly used, and I was intrigued to know if Patrick was so musically talented that he could play them all.

‘Why yes I can,’ he answered, when I posed this question to him.

‘Seriously?!’ I exclaimed, still unable to believe that he was so talented.

‘Yep, I don’t lie,’ he said with a cute grin and puppy dog eyes that no one with a heart can refuse.

He began absentmindedly plucking the strings on his guitar, playing something that was unfamiliar to me, yet it was a great tune.

‘What’s that? It sounds great!’ I complimented him.

Promptly, he began to blush, but he kept playing. ‘I wrote it the other day.’

‘It’s great, keep going,’ I instructed, playing a bouncy melody on the piano around the notes he was playing.

In the three hours we worked on the music project, we achieved so much, we near enough finished the whole piece. If I had to tell you what it sounded like, I’d say a cross between Queen, Prince and Smashing Pumpkins. I know, it’s quite a mix, but it sounded immense, I was so proud of our work.