His Last Solo (In progress...)

His Last Solo1

-Can I come over?-2

I stared at the bright screen of my cell phone in the dark. I glanced at the glowing hands of my wristwatch on the bedside table, it was 4A.M. I replied the text message deftly, giving it no thought.3

-Fuck no.-4

A sliver of light peeked through the olive green curtains on my left. I wondered if it will rain today, wishing it would. He hated driving in the rain. 5

-I’ll be there by 11. Behave.-6

Annoyance tinged with anger welled up in me. I did not want to see those vacant dark eyes piercing me, those pale lips pursed in a thin line, but most of all I despised how he acted as if nothing ever happened. He made me feel like a child but then again in his eyes I am a child, forever his baby brother. He could not accept, no, he refused to accept the fact that what I did to him was unforgiveable. He still loved me and all that I could do was hate him. I grabbed my wristwatch and placed it near my ear. The soft ticking sounded almost like a heartbeat, it calmed me.7


* * * * *8


“Nick?”9

I felt something brush my face and woke up with a start. Startling green eyes framed with reddish lashes stared back at me. Paris’s face was inches from mine, her flaming red curls cascaded around my head. She grinned and pecked a kiss on my nose, giggling while she did so. Before Paris could back off I placed both of my hands on the sides of her face and touched our foreheads together. I closed my eyes and inhaled her vanilla scent. Just-Paris-and- me-moments, I cherished these slices of Heaven above everything.10

“How’s life?” 11

“Leg’s broken. Sucks.”12

I felt Paris’s lashes brush my eyelids when she opened her eyes, I kept mine closed. I could feel her eyes searching my expression. To me, it was the most wonderful feeling in the world, it was love.13

“Well, I brought your violin but the nurse says you’re not allowed to play it here.”14

I opened my eyes. Paris sat on the visitors chair with my Stradivarius in her lap.15

“Let’s go outside then.”16

“You sure that’s okay?”17

“Yeah, help me up.”18


I plopped myself on the wooden bench and winced in pain, my left leg was really bothering me. Paris brought her feet up and hugged her knees. It was a windy autumn morning. The wind blew Paris’s hair out of her face. Golden brown leaves swirling in the air matched her hair perfectly. I took my violin out of its case and started playing Ave Maria. My heart beat in time with the music, I could feel Paris’s eyes transfixed on me and it was pure bliss. Immersing myself into the piece, I let every fiber in my being express my thoughts. Every single note was significant, every phrase meaningful, and ultimately, the piece and I were as one.
Perhaps it was the pain in my leg but it could have also been the cold wind whipping my face, images of him crept into my thoughts. Memories of him flashed in my mind; Paris and him laughing, Paris and him dancing under the tree in our backyard, Paris out cold in his arms, the pain in his eyes, the tears he never shed and the image of him walking away into the rain, broken and alone. I could not stem the dark thoughts. 19

“Nick. Nick, Nicholas!”20

Paris wrenched my violin from my grasp and I froze. A worried look verging on terror pinched her face. A light drizzle accompanied the chilly wind.21

“I’ve done it again, huh? Sorry.”22

I wiped the tears that stained my cheeks and smiled reassuringly at Paris. I glanced at my watch, it was half past ten. I sighed and limped back to my ward using my crutches. Paris followed me quietly. She has stopped asking why I sometimes cry when I play my violin though it made her extremely worried when I do and I love her for that. I could never tell her, ever.
When we got back to the ward, I noticed that the bed opposite mine was vacant. I was the only patient left. A sense of calm descended on me. Asides from being with Paris and my few close friends I actually preferred being alone. 23

“I’ve got to get going now. I need to finish up my article for this month’s Haute Couture special issue. I’ll see you tomorrow kay? Love you.” 24

“Okay.”25

The sky darkened quickly. Lightning pierced the heavens as it rained heavily. At 11 A.M sharp I listened for the familiar measured steps of my brother. Never late nor early, Alec was always punctual. Especially after the accident that robbed him his soul mate, Paris. My Paris, his Paris, our Paris. 26


* * * * *27


“I told you not to come.” I said curtly.28

“Yet you’re waiting for me.”29

Alec glanced at my violin in the visitor’s seat. He picked it up and sat down. Alec traced his fingers on the strings lightly, a gentle longing look on his face; the very image of beauty. Alec’s delicate features, slim built and dignified demeanour was that of our parents. I was nothing like him besides for our love for music. Locks of ebony hair fell into his expressive dark eyes. Alec might not voice or express his feelings much but look into his eyes and you could see his soul. Affection for my brother softened my resolve to reject his very presence. Alec always had a calming effect on me.30

“How’s your leg? Does it still hurt?”31

“Not really.”32

Alec waited for me to say more but I kept quiet and simply stared at him. We both sat still for a while until Alec broke the silence with a sigh. 33


(...to be continued...)