Our dining room is a classic beauty of architecture and design. French doors at the back of the room open to the garden while there are two entrances, one at the front of the room from one of the sitting rooms, and the other from the kitchen. The area is an open floorplan, with no doors, so the dining room doesn't feel closed in. Tan laminated flooring covers the floor, and in the middle of the room is the large dark oak table which seats up to six people. The table comes up to my waist and is covered by one of my mother's favorite table coverings, with a pattern of different kinds of flowers. Above the table is a small crystal chandelier with lights that provide the light in the room.
Mom and dad sit together at the head of the table while I sit on their right, closest to the French doors, and Varun sits directly opposite me. Today mom made lentils and rice, a pretty simple North Indian dish. We all serve ourselves and eat, acknowledging the semi-awkward silence. Dad clears his throat, then, like a lightbulb goes off in his head, he brightens.
"So, have you kids gotten your free passes?" Dad asks, immediately lightening the tension.
"Yep," Varun perkily replies.
"Yes," I say, injecting some fake happiness into my voice. I'm actually dreading tomorrow, since I have to tell Belle about Alex and Noah. That and the fact that I received a single ominous text from Belle, telling me to wear some kind of proper swimwear. Usually we both go to my family beach house which is about a twenty-minute drive and we spend the time with Caspian driving us, since he's a senior. There is a huge amount of private beachfront area, but Belle always wants to go to the public beach area, even though it's public. That means I always dress covered up, even though it's like in the nineties outside.
"Vee, do you and Belle need to use the beach house this year?" Mom asks, she always remembers everything.
"Yes mom, Caspian will be driving us since Belle only just got her license, and we'll all be safe, I promise," I quickly say, discouraging any discomfort from my parents. If I was going with anyone else, my parents would most likely ground me for life, but they know Belle and her family and approve very much, since her dad is our town's assistant mayor and the family is strict, only a little less so than ours.
"What about you, Varun, what are you planning to do?" Dad asks, since Varun does something different every year.
"I think I'm going to the pizza place with Benjamin and some other kids, and we're all going in a bus that someone rented," Varun steadily replies, and we all finish dinner quietly. I think back to one of Varun's friends, Benjamin. Benjamin is about two inches shorter than me with dark brown hair that is always gelled back and brown eyes that I have never not seen with a mischievous glint. He has a lanky and lean build, he probably doesn't work out much, and is more of a swimmer guy.
After dinner we all have some strawberry Italian ice I made the other day before bidding each other goodnight and going to bed. I put a vibration alarm on for eleven thirty before changing into a navy loose tank top and white denim shorts. I quickly fall asleep after falling into my comfortable bed.
The vibration from the alarm pulls me awake and I slowly yawn and rub my eyes. I quickly wash my face and brush my teeth in the bathroom before doing a few silent vocal warmups. I grab my songbook from under the bench in the small alcove and stealthily make my way to my music room. I stick to the darkest of shadows and quiet my breathing as I have practiced, making it seem as if no one is here.
The music room is the only room in this house that is completely soundproof. The door is a plain white door, like all the other doors, with no paint or windows. The set up is similar to that of the dance room, but instead of the side walls being made of mirrors and bars, they are painted black and in front of one wall stands a riser with three levels, and in front of the other wall are stands for sheet music and cases and such filled with instruments. Also, instead of the letters for "DANCE" on the back wall, there are the letters for "MUSIC" and in the very middle of the room is a marble pillar, connecting the ceiling to the floor, that has a large monitor hooked up for online sheet music, video conferences with a music instructor, or, for this instance, karaoke.
I quickly get set up in five minutes, and in another two minutes Varun finally arrives. I hear him not-so-subtly stumble toward the door. By now it is eleven fifty-nine. Varun silently opens the well-oiled door and closes it behind him after entering the room.
"Varun, could you be any more blatant and obvious?" I inquire, a little annoyed.
"What are you talking about, Vee? I was as silent as a ninja," Varun holds his hands up in a karate position and I stifle my giggles at his childishness. "So, what should we start with, your songbook or pop?"
"Let's do maybe one or two songs from my songbook, and then we'll just do some pop. I'm not really up for my own songs, it's the mood," I reply, I really want to get past my songs since they are mostly depressing and poetic, not spunky and exhilarating.
"Can you do your love hate song then?" Varun asks pleadingly.
"Okay, but as soon as that's done we are going straight to our playlists, okay?" I sigh, and Varun nods, positioning himself behind the drum set while I move to the piano. I open it up and take out a box with recordings in it, find the one labeled "L&H PIANO". I can play piano, very well actually, but since I can't play two instruments at once, I made recordings that I put into the speakers.
I settle myself onto a padded stool with my favorite violin in hand and get into position, with my chin on the chinrest and hold the bow in a specific manner while preparing my fingers for holding the strings. The piano begins to play softly, and Varun finds his cue to start a soft but empowering drumbeat. After the initial few notes, I begin to play the violin, my eyelids fluttering closed.
I begin to vocalize until the rise of the violin and the fading of the piano. The drumbeat becomes stronger but not overpowering the violin. I move my arms and fingers into a sharper melody, with a faster tempo and more powerful notes. I begin to sing a song that I wrote roughly three years ago. After a couple of minutes, the piano comes back a little and the drumbeats fade a little. I play the last violin notes, these being much more soft and mournful as I sing out the last few lines of the song.
I hate you
I hate that I love you
I hate that I can't hate you
I hate that everything falls into place when I'm with you
I hate that I can't believe I hate you
But to survive this cruel world
I must believe in one thing:
I hate you.
My voice, a little weary, hit all the low and high notes. When I was younger, I was able to hit every single note on the musical scale except for the lowest ones. With a little practice, I could hit those too, and mimic a lot of singers and their styles.
I open my eyes after I play one last small complicated violin piece, that I just made up on the spot, and see Varun grinning at me. I give him a grin, too, just as big but with my signature dimples. He comes over and pokes his fingers into them and I start packing up the recording and the violin before hooking up my phone to the speakers.
"This time, I'll be supplying the music, so Varun, you hook up to the monitor and get the lyrics up," I instruct, getting some random pop music playlist up.
We sing the night away and revel in the darkness while filling it with laughter and merriment. Varun and I both had about an equal share of individual songs and a couple duets. Many times, he complimented me on my singing voice, since imitation is a skill of mine in singing, but sometimes I also let my true voice be heard. I am a natural soprano, so my little brother often calls my voice "the voice of angels". Varun, on the other hand, isn't the best singer, but his voice isn't too hard on the ears, I guess.
We have fun and drink a couple of sodas in a cooler Varun crept downstairs to get, and we sing our hearts out until we are very weary. We bid each other good night before leaving the music room and heading our separate ways.