The Frost Amphitheater was full of life. The cool night air mixed with the notes of guitars and the murmur of conversations. The stage lights shone intermittently, highlighting the musicians who took turns playing. Megan and I found a comfortable spot on the lawn, close enough to enjoy the show but with room to talk. Sack, as always, stood on the sidelines a little, sitting with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on the stage.
Megan tried to liven up the atmosphere, throwing comments about the bands playing.
"These guys are good, but their bass player could relax a bit. It looks like he's going to break a rope of such enthusiasm," she said, laughing as she sipped her drink.
"Or behind her own back," I said, which made Megan laugh.
Sack barely smiled. Although his attitude could be frustrating at times, I had already gotten used to it. There was something intriguing about him, as if everything he said or did had a hidden weight. I turned to him, determined to break his silence.
"Sack, I never asked you, but do you still play the guitar?" I said, remembering the talk with Daniel at the party. He had told me that Sack was very good, but he also mentioned that he didn't do it much lately.
Sack looked up at me, surprised by the question. For a moment, he seemed to debate whether or not to answer. Finally, he shrugged.
"Not really. I haven't played since—" His voice trailed off, and he looked away at the stage, as if the subject no longer mattered.
The silence that followed was palpable. Megan, who had been looking at Sack curiously, leaned back on her elbows, clearly aware that there was something more behind that incomplete sentence. I knew it too, but I decided not to push it. Something in his expression told me that he wasn't ready to share it.
"It's a pity. Daniel said you were very good," I said softly, trying to ease the tension.
"Daniel talks too much," Sack replied, with a small wry smile.
"I don't think it's a bad thing. Someone has to tell us the things you don't say," I replied with a smile.
Megan chuckled.
"You're right. If it were up to you, we'd never know anything. You are like a walking mystery.
Sack didn't answer, but leaned back slightly, as if accepting the comment without wanting to discuss it. Instead of being uncomfortable, I felt a strange satisfaction.
The sound of a new band began to fill the amphitheater, interrupting our conversation. The first notes were soft, almost melancholy, and for a moment we were all silent to listen. Sack closed his eyes, as if he were absorbing every chord. I wondered what he was thinking, what memories would have emerged when he heard that melody.
The singer's voice echoed through the air, clear and full of emotion:
"Would you know my name, if I saw you in heaven?
Would it be the same, if I saw you in heaven?"
The song was "Tears in Heaven" by Eric Clapton. The sadness of the melody crept into the air, causing everyone to fall silent, even Megan, who usually wouldn't stop talking. I glanced sideways at Sack. Her lips were tightly pursed, her gaze lost somewhere between the stage and something farther away, something inaccessible.
The voice continued, full of emotion:
"I must be strong and carry on,
'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven..."
Sack took a deep breath, as if those words resonated somewhere deep in his being. For a moment, it seemed like he was about to say something, but instead, he just looked up at the sky, as if looking for answers in the stars.
Megan, who had been watching the scene curiously, leaned over to me and whispered:
"Do you think it's okay?" Seems... distant.
"He's always distant," I replied quietly, not taking my eyes off Sack. But this time it's different.
I didn't know how to explain it, but there was something about his expression, in the way his body seemed to tense with every note of the song, that made me think he was fighting something inside. Something I didn't want anyone to see.
The song continued, and the singer seemed to pour his soul into every word:
"Would you hold my hand, if I saw you in heaven?
Would you help me stand, if I saw you in heaven?"
Sack looked down, fixing it on his hands, which now rested on his knees. I noticed how his fingers moved slightly, as if they were playing imaginary chords on an invisible guitar. It was a small, almost imperceptible gesture, but for me it was like a window into his inner world.
"Do you remember when you played?" I asked, unable to contain myself.
Sack did not respond immediately. For a few seconds, he seemed to weigh whether or not to answer. Finally, he murmured:
"It was something I did with my mother. She taught me.
Her voice was so low that I barely heard it, but the words echoed through me. It was the first time he had mentioned his mother so directly. I felt a knot in my stomach, as if I had touched a wound that had not yet healed.
"It must have been special," I said softly, trying not to press him.
Sack nodded, almost imperceptibly.
"It was.
The song reached its climax, and the singer seemed torn with emotion:
"Beyond the door, there's peace I'm sure,And
I know there'll be no more tears in heaven..."
Sack closed his eyes again, as if he were trying to contain something. For a moment, I thought she was going to cry, but when she opened her eyes, her expression was as impenetrable as ever. However, there was something in his gaze, something that told me that this song had struck a chord.
Megan, who had been quietly watching the scene, leaned back on the grass and sighed.
"Wow, that song is... Intense.
"Yes," I replied, without taking my eyes off Sack. It is.
The silence that followed was comfortable, as if we all needed a moment to process what we had just heard. Sack leaned back, leaning on his elbows, and looked up at the sky. I watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind. Was he thinking of his mother? In the things I had lost? In which he could still win?
I didn't know it, but for the first time, I felt like I was a little closer to understanding it.