Punk Meets Pachelbel (Freya)

[Marcus Finch]

Marcus sat at the piano, frowning down at his fingers as they skipped over the keys. He wore an earbud in one ear while its clone dangled against his chest. The musty scent of aging wood was strong in his nostrils and the piano bench was less than comfortable, but the musician hardly seemed to notice as he listened intently to the identical tunes, one produced by his phone and the other by his own hands. It was a simple, repetitive piece that romped up and down the musical scale with steady tempo. Even for a beginner the piece would be easy to replicate, and Marcus had little trouble hitting all the right notes with a well-practised sense of timing. He played it flawlessly but the musician’s frown only deepened as the song crescendoed into its jaunty conclusion. Finally, in place of the song’s final note, Marcus slammed his fingers into the keyboard and the piano clanged discordantly in response.

“Screw it!” his shout mingled with the dying echoes of the piano’s final note. He was tempted to slam the fallboard down in frustration, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he pushed himself to his feet and paced from one end of the stage to the other with heavy footsteps. It was wrong, all wrong, even if he played it perfectly. There was just no connection. It had always been so easy for him to pick up an instrument and make it sound like it meant something, but not the damn piano. A glint of feverish intensity burned in the musician’s eyes as he prowled across the stage. What was he doing wrong? What was so different about the instrument? He just couldn’t figure it out. His fingers ached from the hours he had spent stabbing at the keys and he was fairly certain his butt was no longer as round as it was supposed to be after spending so much time glued to the bench. The instrument was a literal pain in his arse and he still couldn’t figure it out. It was maddening.

[Freya Reeves]

Soft humming filled the halls a small girl walked down them. Her fingers trailed along the white walls, acting as her guiding grace instead of her unfocused eyes which were directed to the glinting titles. She was making her way towards the auditorium, the only room in the school that she knew how to get to at just about any time. That was only due to the fact she had frequently visited the glossy black piano sitting on the stage. That same piano was exactly the reason Freya was on route to the auditorium this afternoon, hoping to have a few peaceful hours of playing before attempting to do her homework.

However, as she drew closer to her destination she heard the faint sound of playing. Tilting her head she stopped just outside the doors, closing her eyes and listening to the muffled notes. She knew the melody, something rather simple that most beginners learned shortly into their lesson. Yet, these notes were somehow different. In a way they sounded almost too calculated and the sound being produced was too forced. Freya waited patiently outside the door, waiting for the student on the other side to stop playing before she entered to prevent any major interruption. The red haired girl knew how annoying people coming and going could be when one was trying to focus.

After a few moments Freya heard the song suddenly cut to an unexpected ending as she heard the familiar sound of fingers slamming on the keys, accompanied by a rather loud shout. She flinched, her lips twisting into a frowned as she imagined the poor keys. ‘This’ll be interesting,’ Freya thought as she pushed open the door and tried to close it as carefully as possible. It took her a moment to try to pin point the other student’s location, his pacing causing a few confusing echoes to bounce around her head. Even with the echoes she could tell that he was still on stage and clearly frustrated.

Taking a breath she started walking towards the stage, her hip catching on the back of a chair, nearly causing her to fall. Giving a startled laugh she looked up towards the stage and waved, “Hey… Couldn’t help but over hear your playing and, well, shouting.” Her fingers trailed along the chairs, silently counting the rows so she knew how close the stage was. “I’m guessing you’re upset because it didn’t sound as smoothly as you wanted? Or maybe the keys just weren’t being nice to you?” She teased, a small smile on her face as she brushed her hair from her face.

Freya slowed her pace as she hit the last row of chairs, taking a few steps before hesitantly reaching for the stage. Once her long, thin fingers touched the cool would she drew herself in to it, glad she had remembered to count her footsteps the last time that she had been in the auditorium. She placed her arms on the stage, folding them lightly before resting her chin on them, her tan sweater momentarily pulling tight across her small shoulders. It took her a moment to settle her gaze in the direction of the student, presumably Marcus from the sound of the shout earlier but she couldn’t quite be sure until she heard him talk normally, like their last conversation.

[Marcus Finch]

The punk’s head snapped up when he heard the girl laugh, but then he relaxed slightly when he recognised her. Poised mid-step, he twisted his neck to watch her cautiously pick her way up to the stage. Her steps were even but uncertain. Clearly she had taken this particular path a time or two before. Sticking his hands in his pockets, Marcus turned on his heel and strolled over to where she waited with her chin on her arms and her arms on the stage. He sank into a crouch, resting his elbows on his knees as he frowned down at her, taking his time with his response. Had it been anyone else he might have punched them, blind or not, but the girl had proven her musical talent. Marcus couldn’t deny that her opinion almost meant something to him.

“Here for an encore, love?” he sneered, but then paused as she smiled and brushed the hair from her face. Biting his bottom lip, he shook his head lightly and dropped the attitude. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he admitted with a sigh before shifting so that he was sitting on the stage. “I dunno. Just never got the hang of the piano,” his voice trailed off as he thought back to his last attempt at the song. Sure, it wasn’t his kind of music but that had never stopped him from connecting with an instrument before. He was hitting the notes but it just felt routine. There was no life to them and the keys felt inanimate under his fingers. He shook his head again, absentmindedly biting at the piercing in his bottom lip.

Finally, his attention returned to the girl. “Did you want to have a stab at it?”

[Freya Reeves]

Hearing the silence as Freya waited for Marcus to reply was a tad unnerving. The girl had a small fear that it wasn’t the beyond gifted boy that she had met not too long ago and was instead someone completely different. Who may or may not be looking at her like she was crazy, poor Freya would have no idea. Yet, he finally decided to answer. A feeling of relief washed through Freya, even though the sentence was practically hurled in her face with a dash of spit along with it. “Always and forever looking for another encore, dear Marcus.” She replied, a small grin on her lips as she did so.

A small frown produced itself on her lips as he continued speaking. “Really?” She questioned, a hint of confusion slipping into her tone. She often forgot that just because piano came easily to her that it didn’t come as naturally for everyone else. But even with that, Marcus seemed like he was fairly skilled with most instruments, so why not piano? “Sure,” she nodded a bit. She took a step to the left and pulled herself onto the stage, shimming onto the polished wood with ease. At least she wasn’t flailing like an awkward fish in front of one of her few friends. If nothing else, that counted as her win for the day.

Once she was on stage, Freya made her way to the piano sending out a silent prayer that they didn’t move it since the last time she had been in the auditorium. In a few unsteady steps she rammed her knee into the bench, “Ouch…” She mumbled, she taking a seat. Taking a breath she did a few simple cords to warm up before launching into a beginner’s song. “I think, you’re problem is that you’re trying too hard. If that makes sense? You’re being too technical about it.” Freya frowned again, her hands coming to rest on the keys. “Here, have a seat,” She scooted over to the edge, “I’m gonna try to see if I can get you to semi-work with this piano.”

[Marcus Finch]

Marcus huffed a breath out his nose that was supposed to be a laugh. “Well, who am I to deny my fans an encore?” He pushed himself to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest before peering down at the girl. If nothing else, he could appreciate her particular brand of sarcasm. But, as it turned out, Freya was no one-trick pony and Marcus felt almost annoyed by his own eagerness to hear her play again. “Hmm,” he mused as he studied her, though there really wasn’t anything to say. Finally, with a why-the-hell-not kind of shrug, the punk moved on to address the piano issue.

“Yeah, I dunno,” he said as she clambered onto the stage. He might’ve offered to help her but she seemed to be managing alright on her own. He got the feeling she wanted to do it herself anyway. That was something else he could appreciate: stubborn independence. “The piano’s just never done it for me, ya know?” He grimaced as the girl’s knee collided with the piano bench, but then his expression eased as she began to play. It was a simple song, not unlike the one he had performed just minutes ago, but there was something very different about the way she played it. Freya seemed to coax the notes out of the instrument with ease despite the fact that she couldn’t even see the keys she was hitting. She played it with the kind of skill that could only come from experience and there was nothing for the punk to do but stand back and listen, impressed and more jealous than he was willing to admit. He exhaled slowly as she played the final notes, the sweet music dissolving into profound silence.

“Pretty,” Marcus muttered as the girl’s hand stilled, not willing to acknowledge her comment about his own playing. He hesitated as she patted the bench beside her. For a moment he was tempted to walk out. “I’m not sure, uh. . .” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly before finally giving in with a sigh. “Alright.” His heavy boots thumped on the wooden floor of the stage as he made his way over to the bench and perched himself beside her. “Show me how it’s done, princess.”

[Freya Reeves]

While Marcus could only manage a huff of a breath, Freya held less control of the small laugh that escaped her lips. Their small exchange was more than enough to bring a smile to her lips, however short it was. The mood quickly changed as she made her way over to the piano, Marcus stating how the piano never worked for him and Freya being completely puzzled by the statement. “Yeah, I can kinda get that.” She said before taking a seat. “That was me and the drums, though trying to learn them now might be even harder than before.”

Her brow furrowed as her hands swept along the keys. She hadn’t quite attempted to learn anything new for some time. A few songs here and there but no new instruments. Learning the positioning was harder now that she couldn’t see her hands, and not a lot of people had the patience to help her learn. Brushing the thought away she let the world around her fade as she started to play a beginner’s song, one of the first she had memorized. Once she finished the last few notes, she quickly decided that she wouldn’t let Marcus flounder around for much longer and insisted that he come sit next to her. Well, more or less just suggested it instead of pushing him.

While silence hung in the air for a moment, she wondered if he was going to take her up on it. After a moment she heard his voice. ‘C’mon, do it.’ She pressed mentally, but waited quietly for him to decide. A large grin broke out on her thin lips as he gave into her request, his heavy boots crossing the polished wood. “Awesome,” Freya practically beamed, scooting over to the very edge so he wouldn’t feel crowded. “Okay so, it sounds like you know some of the basics. The chords and scales and even some of the simple songs. That’s a fantastic start, honestly. You’re way ahead of some people.”

She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear, “I kinda hope you know In the End by Linkin Park because this will go a lot easier if you do.” She placed her hands on the two beginning notes for the song. “I’m going to play a few notes and then we'll play it again together.” Her fingers slowly played the first few notes, “Relax and let the music flow through your hands, don’t think about it too much. And if you mess up, it’s not the end of the world. It’s not like there’s anyone here to judge you, besides Casper the Ghost but he’s pretty chill.” She smiled in his direction, “Think you got it?” She questioned poised to start playing the first ten or so notes with him.

[Marcus Finch]

Marcus was surprised when Freya laughed. For some reason he hadn’t expected it, but he couldn’t say he didn’t like it. Sitting beside her on the bench he tried to relax. A wide grin lit up the girl’s face, but Marcus’s expression remained serious. “Yeah, I’ve played a bit. Just not at the level I’d like to be at,” he explained with a frown, but a moment later his eyes lit up as she mentioned Linkin Park. He scoffed in mock offense, “I think I’d be concerned if someone didn’t know that song.” He watched her place her hands on the keys. She appeared comfortable but a little uncertain. The punk wondered if she’d ever taught anyone before as his eyes slid absentmindedly to her face. “Yeah, got it. Though I would appreciate it if the dead would keep their opinions to themselves,” he bantered back with a smirk.

Turning his eyes back to her hands, he watched the blind girl play the first set of notes. It was simple enough and he’d heard the intro often enough to understand how it should sound. He repeated the melody with heavy fingers, the notes coming out a bit louder than her’s had. Furrowing his brow, Marcus said, “hang on, let me do it again. Think I’m still a bit worked-up from before.” He laced his fingers together, cracking them individually before giving them a good wiggle and placing them back on the keys. Forcing himself to relax, he exhaled slowly and started the set again. This time, he was certain that it was identical to her’s. He turned his head towards Freya and raised his eyebrows. It was still too early to celebrate, but the little victory was enough to satisfy and encourage.

[Freya Reeves]

Sitting there felt like an eternity until she felt the other end of the bench give a little, the rebound of his weight causing her to shift slightly. Yet, even though she couldn’t see him, she could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. Freya tried to shake it off, wanting to make this the best experience she could for Marcus. She was more than willing to bet that any time he tried it was either on his own without any guidance or with someone who just didn’t click with him. Which most definitely wouldn’t help him in the learning department.

Keeping that smile going was made ten times easier when she heard the fake offence in his voice. It was easy to laugh around a kid who tossed around as many jokes as she did. A small smirk came to her lips, “You concerned? I’d never thought I’d see the day.” She chuckled a bit, both at the banter and at the pun. Blind jokes, you couldn’t get higher quality than that. She settled down slightly, turning her attentions to the keys. The corner of her mouth twisted into a grin momentarily as her hands automatically flexed before resting lightly on the keys. “You never can tell with ghosts, sometimes they’re snarky little things.”

However, once she started to play her previous giggly-ness seemed to fade away. Her lids fell shut as the music flowed from her finger tips, expertly applying the right amount of pressure to the keys and matching the timing like she had done it a hundred times before. The one aspect in life where she still had complete control, music. She came to a halt, and looked in Marcus’s direction as her eyes opened. Giving him an encouraging nod, she waited for him to play. Once he began, a soft smile formed on her lips. He was hitting all the correct notes, the pressure was just a bit off. However, before she could get a word out he was already at it again.

The second time around she nodded, “Much better. See? You’re not bad, you just have to calm yourself down unless you’re doing a highly energetic or angry piece. Thinking about it I should have done a song like that for you… My bad.” Her had begun to drift off near the end of her rabbles, more so thinking to herself. “Together on three? One, two, three.” She began playing the notes, nodding a little as his clicked in time with hers. “Very nice, still think you’re hopeless when it comes to playing the piano?” She nodded approvingly as she began to play the second set of notes in the second.

[Marcus Finch]

Freya didn’t seem to notice the punk’s tension, or if she did she gave no indication of it. Marcus found himself easing into the situation with every passing joke. The girl managed to draw the slightest hint of a smile to his face as she laughed, amusing herself with her own wit, but he couldn’t seem to laugh along with her. Running a hand through his hair, Marcus took a sobering breath. “Whoa there, seems Casper isn’t the only snarky little thing ‘round here,” he replied, smirking at her from the corner of his eye. Though the punk had only known Freya for a short time she was already beginning to feel familiar, and for the first time since arriving at Ashford Marcus felt comfortable around another human being.

The serious expression returned when a moment later the conversation was turned back to the music. Marcus was tempted to protest her assumption about him doing better with a more energetic piece, but if he was being honest with himself she was probably right. Everything about the punk presented a very clear image of the kind of person he was and the girl didn't have to see him to know. Instead, Marcus remained quiet and placed his hands on the keys beside hers, playing along with the blind girl as if he'd done it a million times before.

Once they had played through the first part of the song, Marcus leaned back with a satisfied grin. Freya offered him her own sort of compliment, the kind that was almost an insult, to which Marcus shook his head and replied, "hey, you're the only one around here using the word 'hopeless', princess." For a moment the musician's grin widened into a genuine, eager smile before Marcus caught himself and flattened his expression once more. Beside him on the piano bench Freya had begun to play the second piece. Zoning in, Marcus watched her fingers carefully. He opened his ears to let the music in as his fingers itched in anticipation. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so excited to play.

[Freya Reeves]

A slim hand fluttered to her chest in mock offense, as she turned to look at Marcus with her jaw dropped, “Are you trying to say something, Mr. Finch? Are you accusing me of being snarky? I think you’re completely off your rocker.” She said, shaking her head lightly as her hands returned to their natural resting position over top of the keys. As Freya looked away she couldn’t help but smile lightly. She was more than happy that Marcus’s tension was slowly fading and he was returning to joking self that she had quickly gotten used to. She may not ever admit it out loud, but Marcus made her time at the school vastly more entertaining. Human interaction, who would have thought?

Casting all joking aside, Freya went about teaching Marcus the first part of the song. After they played it through, he wasn’t the only one that felt satisfied. She was proud in a way. He picked it up and was able to play along with her after only a few trials. Which was very impressive compared to only a few minutes ago when he felt the need to yell at the poor keys. Though, Freya assumed it had very little to do with her teaching methods and was more or less Marcus finally taking the time to settle down to concentrate properly. It was more than clear that he was a musician at heart, and a very skilled one at that.

“Uhuh,” She said, rolling her eyes as she flicked her gaze up in his direction, “I’m sure you weren’t thinking it was pointless when you were throwing a tantrum.” Of course, her sass was meant in good fun as she repressed a giggle, failing only seconds after. “Anyway, part two.” She said, rolling her shoulders lightly before she began to play. Her eyes fell shut as her fingers passed over the keys, her entire body moving with the song for a few moments. Freya felt that Marcus needed a little challenge, so she extended this section a bit longer than the previous before coming to a stop. “Go for it,” She smiled encouragingly as she folded her hands in her lap, her ears eager as she waited for his playing.

[Marcus Finch]

Marcus watched as Freya’s hand settled on her chest, the pale skin standing out against the collar of her blouse. Her hand was surprisingly small, dainty in a way he wouldn’t have expected from someone so skilled at the piano. He suddenly felt self-conscious about his own cartoonishly large hands which were rough and callused from years of playing. He felt something like relief that she couldn’t see them with their wide-splayed, ugly fingers. Tangled in his thoughts, Marcus almost didn't hear Freya's joking reply. Smiling in spite of himself, he gave her a playful shove with his elbow.

They were an unlikely pair: the princess and the punk. He was tall, green-haired, pierced, and armed with a dangerous attitude. The bookish girl, by contrast, was about as threatening as a dust bunny, but the more time they spent together the more they seemed to have in common. As they worked through the rest of the song Marcus found himself looking at the girl more often than the keys. There was something simple about her. She laughed and smiled with open, genuine warmth, she was modest, she didn't try to impress him, and she possessed a bite of sarcasm that kept him on his toes. But she was never mean. She was unapologetically herself.

They played back and forth until the song was complete, exchanging jokes as they sat shoulder to shoulder, seemingly comfortable in each other's company. It was easy to get swept away with the girl’s open attitude, but Marcus still felt the underlying hesitation holding him back. She was nice and he was, well, the opposite. Saying the wrong thing came only too easy to the punk even when he thought he was on his best behaviour. He seemed to have a natural gift for pissing people off and he didn’t exactly hold the most stable temper either. He gave another huff of laughter.

“Princess, I haven’t known you a week, but you’re making me feel like I should try to be a better person,” it was only partially a joke.

[Freya Reeves]

It was only a short time ago when Freya arrived on the island. She had the thought of simply keeping entertained with her books and getting lost in her music. In no way had the redhead expected to come across people she genuinely liked and could talk with. Out of that small group, it was safe to say that Marcus was the most interesting and by far her favorite. He was rough around the edges, which was clearly shown in their first meeting. It had been a little rocky but then again, the best things always are. And that clearly showed as they sat side by side, working with an instrument that used to frustrate her green haired companion to no end.

As Marcus jostled her slightly, she laughed with a large grin splitting through her mask of shock. Had the girl actually been thinking of the simple, friendly motion something may have occurred to her. The fact that she hadn’t jumped or felt uneasy at the unexpected touch. It was something that only her mother had managed, to make her feel comfortable with their movements towards her even though she could no long see them. Or in Marcus’s case, never see them. It was something so little but at the same time, meant a lot to the girl. Having that amount of trust and comfort around some one was hard to come by these days.

The smile on her face never seemed to leave as they continued to play together. Jokes bouncing back and forth, laughter dancing around them. It ended up being more fun than Freya had imagined it would be and as it drew to a close, she found the feeling of disappointment slowly churning in her stomach. Trying to shake the feeling off, Freya looked up at him curiously when he began to speak. “Nah, don’t change.” She shook her head softly, “If people can’t handle you at your worst, why should they get you at your best? Besides, I like you how you are so don’t change for my sake.” She turned attention to the keys, her hair effectively falling in hopes of hiding the embarrassment showing on her cheeks.