From the moment he touched the black and white keys, the crystalline notes stirred and wound themselves around him, twining and shimmering in the air. Eyes closed, he let his fingers run across the grand piano, forgetting everything but the melodies that beckoned him toward oblivion as everything else in the room faded away. For as long as he could remember, it had just been him and the music, a haven for him amid the chaos and contempt that surrounded him. In here, there was peace. In here, there was nothing to fear, no threats, no enemies, no pain. In here, he could be utterly free.
His hands began to fly as the music surged and soared. Mindless of anything or anyone, he poured his soul into his song. It was for him the only safe place, one where the rules were never-changing, any complexities his to bend or break into beauty. There was no need for words or names; only him flowing into the music, and the music holding him.
Watching the dark head bent over the grand piano in the back of the room, Cardin found himself mesmerised. It wasn't the first time that he had heard Keary play, but his music still filled Cardin with an ache that ran through the palms of his hands to settle in a place somewhere deep inside his chest. Keary often took familiar melodies and turned them into something that was all his own. In his music, there slept something that sounded like hope in anguish.
The haunting melody lingered in the bar even as the song came to an end. Hesitantly, almost as if afraid to intrude, house music faded in over the speakers, and a booming voice announced that the pianist would be taking a short break before returning for his final set for the night. As the patrons of the crowded bar resumed their chatter over their cocktails and the pumping beats, Keary silently made his way to the counter, where the bartender filled him a glass.
"Quite something, eh?" Nigel said. "He used to play at a number of lounges and bars, but one day he just decided to drop them all, even though they were desperate to keep him. One of the managers was almost in tears begging him to stay."
Cardin blinked quickly to clear his eyes of the moisture that had risen in them from the song. After the initial consternation caused by Nigel's abrupt suggestion and the manner in which he had brought it up, the blue-eyed boy had quickly agreed to his proposal to secretly watch Keary's performance. Dressed in black and keeping a hood over his head to hide his bright hair, he had let Nigel drive them to the bar, which was situated about half an hour away from the house. Although there hadn't seemed to be any room left inside, the redhead had once again proved resourceful, and had managed to get the both of them in and seated at a shadowy corner where they would be relatively hidden from view. Cardin had had no trouble entering, although the security personnel had all been eyeing him suspiciously. It probably had something to do with what Nigel whispered to one of the doormen, if not the cash he had slipped into the man's pocket as he did so.
"Why didn't he continue?" Cardin asked, eyeing a well-dressed woman who had approached Keary at the bar. She seemed to be in her mid to late thirties. Her shapely figure, accentuated by her body-hugging clothing and six-inch heels, drew thirsty stares from several of the male guests, but her eyes were on Keary alone as she rested her hand comfortably on his shoulder. At her touch, Keary turned toward her, and smiled; they seemed to know each other.
"He got busy, I guess. Plus, he didn't like some of the attention that he was getting." Nigel took a swig from his glass.
"I see…" Absent-mindedly, the blonde sipped his own drink. The lady was leaning against the bar as she spoke to Keary, her fingers casually toying with his hair. Keary didn't respond, but he wasn't pulling away either. Cardin felt a twinge in his stomach at the sight.
Beside him, Nigel downed the rest of his drink and stood. "I'm going to try and get another round without him seeing me. Stay here, don't move."
"Okay." Cardin had no wish for Keary to notice his presence either. He watched, the unfamiliar sensation curling in his gut, as the woman threw her head back in laughter at something the dark-haired boy had said. Concentrating, he realised he could make out some of what they were saying from the way their mouths moved.
"Oh, don't be churlish!" the lady was saying. "Come on, my darling. There must be something more lively in your repertoire. Play that song, the popular one…" She hummed a tune, tapping her long, immaculately manicured fingernails on the counter-top.
Keary tilted his head in a deferential gesture. "What the paymaster wants, the paymaster gets."
"Forever the practical, pragmatic K. I keep forgetting how young you really are whenever you talk like this. But, I do have something that I think might help…"
She reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, then withdrew it to trace a line of white powder on the back of her hand. She offered it to Keary, a queen demanding fealty.
He twisted his head away with an exasperated look. "No, Edith, I don't–"
"It's only a smudge!" The woman called Edith protested, before slipping back into coyness. "Just a little, hm? For old times' sakes. It will help you play more happily." She reached her hand out to him invitingly.
Keary knew she wasn't going to take no for an answer when she was like this, at least not without raising a ruckus, and attention was the last thing they needed right now when she was flaunting narcotics around so openly. Dropping his shoulders in a sigh, he complied, taking the elegant hand and pressing his lips to the white line. When he raised his head, the powder was gone, and Edith was gazing at him with sultry eyes.
"Still so delicious." She leaned in close. "It makes me so nostalgic…"
Cardin's stomach twisted as she tugged Keary toward her by his tie. He tore his gaze away from the scene, his heart pounding in his ears. Barely aware of the people around him, he stumbled out of the bar with his hooded head down, and didn't see Keary push the lady away from himself, gentle but firm.
"E, behave," he murmured. "People are watching you. The arrangement we had is over, and you have a husband now." He rose. "I'm going to get ready for the next set."
Moving away from the pouting woman, Keary cast a glance at the far corner of the room. He thought he had glimpsed a familiar face in his periphery, but there was nothing but shadows at the table. He blinked slowly as the drugs kicked in, then turned to make his way onto the stage.
As the sound of the piano rose again over the speakers, Nigel found the golden-haired boy standing outside in the chilly night. He was trembling, but not from the winter cold. Before Nigel could say anything, Cardin went to him, and asked in a low, subdued voice to be brought home.
...