In the beginning, Soul had issues deep beneath the skin and hidden behind melancholy eyes. He was born and raised in a Family famously known for being artistically talented in playing the musical instrument. His Parents were well known and respected for this talent, as well as his Grandparents before them. His Brother Wes was raised to play the violin while the youngest in the Family spent his childhood slaving away over the ivory keys of a piano. The only reason why he agreed to keep playing was because he wanted to get better and one day be as respected and loved as his older Brother and Parents.
In the beginning, Soul really believed that he could play the piano well. His music, however, always reflected his sad soul in its melody and gave off the twisted feeling he had deep within his being. His music made his Mother cringe, and forced his Father to hit him and tell him to redo it while his older Brother tried to sugar coat his disappointment with an embarrassed smile.
In the beginning, Soul knew he would never be good enough. He knew how to play the piano, but he had no real talent. The talented one was Wes. Wes was the one who got to perform recitals and bow down to cheering crowds and be congratulated by their parents when the curtain fell. Soul was always standing aside or sitting in the audience, looking up and watching as the violin's music drifted through the room and touched the hearts of every audience member there. Why couldn't he be like him?
In the beginning, Soul tolerated the criticism and he held back the choking sobs long enough until he was alone in his room. He would stand by the grand piano and listen to his Father rant on about how to change his composition, and he would listen to his Mother try to explain how it should have been much more cheerful. He would listen to his Brother's tips on how to improve and which notes he should have written down in the score to give the melody a happier feel, but when everything would be over with, he'd go to his room, lock the door and hold his legs against his chest in the corner until he was given the chance to try again.
In the beginning, Soul only knew how to memorize. He was given musical scores to look at, memorize and then perform in front of his Parents. If they thought it would be worthy, they normally thought about having him execute a recital. Although, it never worked out, because once they had the confidence he could compose his own piece, he always returned with a work of garbage that would have him thrown into his room to think about what he had the audacity to do.
"I didn't really understand it. But I really liked it."
Her words cut through his misery like a knife. For once, someone hadn't criticized his music. For once, Soul could smile, bow his head and say thank you. He didn't have to return to his bedroom and think of a new piece to play. He didn't have to prepare himself to be stuck in the side of the head for pressing the wrong keys. He didn't have to memorize, recite, memorize, and recite. He could close the fallboard, smile bitterly and comment on how the girl with the confident green eyes and sandy pigtails had shitty music taste.
He wasn't afraid to admit that his music was terrible, but that didn't matter now. He had Maka. She couldn't care less, and that was exactly what he needed to give him the confidence to turn around and take her hand.
This was only the beginning of something much more than just a partnership.
hi hi this story thing is just going to be a bunch of drabbles put together
i'm working on these kind of in between chapters of VOID to kinda get my writing flow going you know?
plus they're cute?
i hope you like them
I'm getting the drabble prompts from a 30 day writing challenge I discovered a long time ago