Phul came out of the bathroom. She was disoriented, her hair was messy, her eyes were heavy, and her heart ached. She should've told Zax she was leaving, but she didn't. At that moment, nothing seemed to matter anymore. She was once again faced with the terrible reality she kept trying to deny. As she walked out the restaurant to the city, she couldn't stop crying. Involuntary tears running down her cheeks, she was feeling as though the whole world was choking her down. Even when she got a taxi, and the taxi driver asked, "Are you alright, ma'am?", and throughout the whole ride, she didn't respond.
She got off in front of her apartment, the whole ride felt like a fever dream. When she got in her apartment, it felt cold, and empty and lonely. It was always cold, empty and lonely, but today, for some reason, it felt even more so. She went inside and sat on the couch. Her tears had dried by now, and she just blankly stared at the ceiling.
"I'll never be able to sing again." She mumbled to herself. "I'll never ever be able to sing again, what was the point of all that then?" She remembered how when she was in the music class in elementary school, and strung the guitar for the first time, had decided that she'd be pursuing music for her life. She remembered how she felt when she was the main singer of the school's anthem at graduation. She remembered how she saved all the money she got, skipped lunches and snacks to be able to buy her first guitar in middle school. She remembered how she went busking and the cheers and applauds of the people who heard her. She remembered Vega too.
Vega. Phul's memories couldn't be completed without Vega, afterall, she was her best friend. Was, because now Phul was very much convinced she's not. She remembered how Vega was a studious student, with no clear goal or dreams in life. Vega was satisfied with taking the asphalt road. She was supportive of Phul's passions and dreams, but didn't have any idea about hers. Until that fateful day they went busking together, of course. Then Vega had found a dream, and it became a dream Phul and Vega shared together. They'd go busking together after that, practice and write new music together. Every day was fun.
Phul was serious about pursuing a career in music. So during her last year in high school, she told her parents, and her older sister, that she wasn't going to pursue higher education, instead pursue music. TARA was doing well in the underground music bar at that time too. But Phul's parents were against that idea entirely. A heated argument broke, and with time, it broke the family. Phul chose her dreams and her future, over her family's dream, and came to the city. Vega's family was more understanding and supported her and her activities as TARA. They were doing well, until that day. You know the story.
And so Phul sat, alone in the apartment, her family wouldn't comfort her, and she didn't have any friends now. Well, she did have Zax, but she didn't have the courage to face him right now, not after he did everything for her, and she ruined it and ran out on him without leaving so much as a word. He must be worried sick. She hated herself, every single part of herself at that moment. She gave up everything to be able to do just one thing, sing, and she couldn't do that anymore. She hated Vega even more now, because Vega knew she wouldn't have anywhere else to go, and she still let her out. So much for being 'best' friends.
And amidst that frustration and pain, she looked over and saw the piano in her room. It'd been a while since she played it, it had collected dust. She maybe a sad useless musician who souldn't perform music infront of others, but she was still a musician at heart, with love and respect for her instruments. Her head and heart and legs were heavy, but she dragged herself, and got a cloth and dusted and cleaned the piano. When she was done, she sat in front of it.
The piano just looked at her.
"Do you also think I'm a failure?" Phul asked, to the piano.
There was no response.
"I'm sorry, you must be sad to belong to an owner who never even plays." Phul gently touched the piano.
Silence. Pianos can't talk. Phul knew that too.
But somehow, the piano seemed to be crying, like Phul. It seemed to be hurting, begging her to play it, just once.
And Phul heard that. For some reason, her hands reached the keys. She wasn't thinking of doing that, it was almost as if her hands responded to the piano's pleas on their own. Phul's pain and the piano intermingled, it was such a sad moment, and Phul cried again, as she played a soft melody on the piano. The piano cried with her, it was a sad but beautiful harmony, and the more she played, the more violently she cried, the soft sad song now turned into a raging scream, at everything wrong that happened that led to this moment, and as she played the piano, suddenly, she had a realization. She was not alone. She had the piano, the piano was crying with her, sharing the pain she held in her heart.
It was not just the piano. The guitar, the pass, the small flute she only occasionally brought out, the trombone, the violin she wasn't very good at, all would cry with her, if she cried with them. She felt better, and now played with a passion, a fire, she had been missing for a while. Ah, such a beautifully sad and frustrating moment. But there she was, now with a notepad and a blue pen in hand, frantically scribbling the notes she just played, editing, playing the notes again,, writing again, both notes and lyrics she wanted to shout out to the world. In her misery, she had found inspiration. Maybe all artists are hurting, and the works they create are forged with their pains and tears.
"Maybe all artists are hurting, and the works they create are forged with their pains and tears." Zax thought, as he stood in front of Phul's apartment door. He had come there to make sure she was okay, and was gonna go in and comfort her if she wasn't, but as he heard the hectic melody, stopping and repeating, he decided not to go in. Phul was gonna be okay, she wasn't alone, she had her one true love, music, with her inside. Zax knew that.
He had driven all the way from the restaurant, had checked all the places Phul could've gone to, and had come to her apartment, praying she'd be inside. He was sweating, out of breath, worried as hell, blaming himself, but he was greeted with a soft piano playing inside. Suddenly it turned violent, it was raging, then it was almost as if it'd let out a sigh, it was a soft relaxing tune again. Ah, how emotional he felt when he heard that. He really loved Phul, but he loved her as an artist too. He was her biggest fan, and everytime he heard her voice, her music, it was almost as if it was made just for him, it resonated with him so very much.
And so there he stood, leaning against her door, listening to her work in progress, and all his tiredness and guilt slowly melted away. Ah, how talented Phul was, he thought. It's such a shame other people cannot hear this, but no, they will, someday. Phul loves music, she was meant to sing, meant to touch people's heart with her songs, so she will be able to stand up on stage and do that, someday, he thought. He'd be with her till she does, he would support her, no matter how long it takes, because he loves her music, and her.
If only Phul knew how much Zax loved her. She knew a little bit, but his love was much much more that she could ever imagine.
He waited, and heard until she was done. The evening was over, and stars were out in the sky. He felt content now, and drove back home. Tomorrow he had work. He would have to see TARA again, a TARA without Phul in it. He would have to see Vega again, and he'd have to pretend Phul's fine infront of her, and them. Ah right, he didn't tell Phul about his job today. Well, there's always another day.
As he lay in his bed, he was reminded again about how horribly wrong today went. Sure, Phul might have found inspiration for a song, but that doesn't change the fact that today was a traumatic experience for her, and that he was responsible for it. He tried not to, but couldn't help but blame himself yet again, he'd have to be more careful from now on. Phul is fragile, he didn't want to break her again.
He was exhausted, but he rarely thought about himself. Oh, how damaged both Phul and Zax are.
Maybe we all are.