Pasting a smile over reality, the girl checked
herself in the mirror. Everything seemed as it should, the immaculate
clothes, the friendly disposition, and the happy expression. She, an
experienced actress, knew what the world expected of her, and knew
exactly how to play the part. To her, life really was a stage, and the
world the audience, clapping with approval. No one knew the inside. But
then again, no one wanted or cared to.
He played the punk, a reject of society. Pain and hurt had stamped
themselves upon his heart, and he did nothing to hide it. Thus, the
world left him to his own devices. People tended to think of pain and
hurt as unpleasant subjects, something better left out of the script.
Yet he added them anyway and for that reason the audience jeered
She only had one flaw – her eyes. They were too truthful sometimes. If
anyone took the time to peer into her soul, they could have through
these. To her relief however, no one looked, peered or searched. All
around her, people focused on the act rather than the actress performing
Beautiful music was his secret solace. His soft spot so to speak, hidden
deeply away in his heart, so as to protect it from intruders. He played
the piano, but always alone. It enveloped and changed him, melting the
hardened scabs and dissolving the scars the world had “gifted” him with.
Without those though, he felt defenseless and vulnerable and thus none
knew his talent. People expected a calloused and depressed person, and
he gave them what they wanted.
In short, these two beings appeared exactly opposite, one an actress to
cover the darkness, and the other an actor to cover the light. But both
felt alone and acted they way they did to protect themselves.
Lately the girl’s burdens had gotten
increasingly heavier, resulting in small flaws in her acting. So she had
started going to the theater late at night to practice. For practice
always makes perfect. Practicing relentlessly also makes for sleepless
nights; and eventually those effect a person.
Sitting down in a red, velvet, plush chair in the empty audience, she
leaned back for just a moment. Just a moments rest would make a
difference, and then she would continue. Believing she had merely
blinked, she opened her eyes only to find hours had passed by. Suddenly,
she also discovered herself not alone. Someone quietly played the piano
from a few feet away, music slowly filling the empty, cold theater with
emotion and feeling. Quickly pulling her act together out of sleep, she
walked silently and curiously toward the sound.
Early morning tended to be the best time to play at the theater, no one
ever showed up before eight. Since the boy refused discovery, he always
took great precaution and arrived hours before then. This morning had
been no different. Allowing his soul to fly free in the music he played,
he coaxed the keys into melodious harmony. Before long he’d have to hide
it again and go through the motions of yet another day.
Sound captured her heart and drew her in.
Music blinded him to the girl advancing towards him.
Then, she stood beside him. He stopped instantly, quickly recovering his
poise. Turning to face her he stared, ready to attack if necessary in
order to defend his well kept secret. She opened her mouth to speak but
before she could, all her beauty, grace and put-together self flew past
him in a rush, when he looked into her eyes.
Their worlds clashed together, understanding formed in an instant. Both
had seen the inmost depths of the other, and they knew it.
All the hurt, dread, pain and suffering that had buried itself within
the depths of her heart flooded out, weighing her down. She collapsed.
In slow motion, the boy watched the scene playing before him; the light
in his heart breaking through his tattered soul. And he caught her.