Rockstar Serenade: The Chorus

Ch 33: I Feel Infinite, I Feel Immortal

TREVOR~

The house is filled with the melancholic mood given off by my playing of Chopin’s piano piece on the D-flat major scale. I’ve translated this famous piece on my electric guitar and gave it a tangy feeling a few times already. Though, nothing will ever beat the classics.

I just had this feeling that I should make things different today, so I plugged in my electric keyboard rather than my electric guitar. But because I have lived through major and minor scales, pentatonic, Mixolydian, Diatonic, Lydian and other scales as a musician, the piano is no thrill for me. Sigh, another boring day. What the hell am I supposed to do?

Just when I’m already the best part of the musical composition, a sound of a newly arrived text message rings. Damn.

So, u gonna accept the offer or not? Ladies are waiting, dude!! If u aren’t coming im’ma drag u 2 the designer’s studio myself :P –Rick

Another one of Rick’s senseless text messages.

Ignoring my phone, I proceed to another gloomy piece by the same composer and decide to play it on the E minor scale, to add to the lonely feeling of being alone inside a huge house. Ah yes, I’m slowly drowning myself in a depressing mood.

However, my phone buzzes again.

I’m going to force u to model for the clothing line ‘cause Brent said so :P -Rick

How many times do I have to tell them that I won’t pose for Raze Clothing?!

Annoyed by all these distractions, I put my phone in silent mode. I don’t want Rick’s presence right now, much less anybody else’s, be it through electronic communication or personal talk. I prefer playing in an environment with very minimal noise so I could achieve that soulful feel.

Quiet time. I need quiet time. I need to enjoy my one week vacation from the music industry. Moreover, Chopin’s compositions are making me drift away from my interests in loud guitar shreds, and I’m not complaining about it. Music as a drug could work magic sometimes.

I turn the leaves of my collection of piano sheets I inherited from my grandfather. Carefully, I open it on Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. With my fingers readily positioned on the white keys, I begin with  G-sharp, C-sharp, E, G-sharp, C-sharp and E...

Buzzz!

First, my phone. Second, the front door buzzer.

“Damn you, Richard,” I growl under my breath.

Did he really think that he coming to my house would convince me to model for that stupid clothing line? Did he really think he could ‘drag’ me to the designer’s studio? Damn, he can’t even beat me at arm wrestling!

“Goddamn it, Rick! I told you a lot of times that I am never ever going to accept Raze Clothing’s offer if that means that I’m going to co-model with that fuckin’ drummer Max!”

I head for my front door. It seems like somebody needs to learn the hard way. Swearing to myself that I’m going to carve in that head of his that he should think twice before doing anything bothersome, I turn the doorknob and open the door wide enough to shout at his face.

“And I don’t need you persistent fuckers to come here and—” I gasp at who stood before me. “Oh no. Holy shit, no.”

I slap my forehead with my palm and hide my face in shame. Damn no. No, no, no.

A girl is at my doorstep, wearing a black t-shirt and a checkered skirt, her hair up in a ponytail and her eyes reflecting the rays of the sunshine. It’s the girl who I thought I’ve lost, the one who I thought I’d never hear from again, the one who I thought has given up on me a long time ago. It’s the very same girl I kept thinking about before I sleep—my guilty dream and my sweetest nightmare.