A Story to Tell Your Friends

The two days we were to spend with Alex and Lisa were flying by. We’d arrived halfway through the 21st and had ended up going straight to Alex and Lisa’s house (where the boys had decided Jack and I were staying) and falling asleep way too early, somewhat overcompensating for the pathetic three-hour time difference. Given we were on West Coast time and should have been falling asleep later than our friends (add in Jack and I were stupidly Night Owl-y too, which makes this a ridiculous decision and completely unlike us), the 6am wake up call we accidentally had the next morning made utter sense. Lisa and Alex woke up more than an hour later, but Jack and I had already thrown ourselves on their sofa with coffee and were sat watching terrible TV with the dogs.
The boys’ plan for the day was to show me around their hometown. They were going to show me where they used to play their shows in High School, introduce me to childhood friends and just kick about like they were seventeen again. All round, it was a fabulous day. I had gotten used to Jack’s friends telling me they knew all about me, so I was no longer fazed when they introduced themselves that way. Jack, of course, pretended to be embarrassed, but I think he’d also reached the point where he knew that I a) didn’t care and b) wasn’t going to run away over his word vomit. He loved me, so he did what he always did about things he loves: talks about it way too much and infuriates everyone. It was cute.
As it was, we were currently lounging around in Alex and Lisa’s open kitchen/lounge area while they made us dinner. We had offered to help, but they had both been adamant that we would only burn their house down. We had to give them that. We didn’t cook and Jack would most definitely burn the house down if he tried to cook. We were, instead, helping in our own way. This, of course, meant we provided comic relief and not much else. Lisa was pouring wine, Alex was cooking food, and we were being irritating.
“What are you doing?” I asked Lisa, finally, seeing her decanting a bottle of red into another bottle and groaning. She was way more adult than I was. I drank cheap wine and strong liquor and not much else.
“Aerating,” she shrugged, putting the now empty bottle the wine had come in into the trash. There was, what, four years between us? And here she was being vastly more grown up than I was. If there was any way to make me feel like a child, it was to sit me next to Lisa. Admittedly, she joined in with my childish ways more often than not, but allow her to just be herself and she was vastly more mature. That’s not to say she faked it around me (or the other guys), just that, naturally, she was way classier than the rest of us combined. I mean, it wasn’t difficult by any means, but it definitely showed when she and I stood next to one another.
“And dinner is served!” Jack grinned, carrying over the serving plate our dinner had been put onto, Alex following behind rolling his eyes. “I made it myself. Doesn’t is smell wonderful?” I now knew why Alex was rolling his eyes. Jack couldn’t cook this in his damn life.
“Smells great, babe, but I’m pretty sure all you did was put it on the plate,” I laughed. It was simple enough, shredded chicken tacos, but it looked like Alex had made pretty much everything but the tacos himself, including the spice mix and all the sides. If I ever did something like this, it was 100% from a packet. It still didn’t turn out quite right.
“Same thing,” he shrugged, still grinning. The boys kept walking, leading Lisa and I through a set of doors and into what appeared to be Alex’s dining room. We hadn’t been in this room as yet, but the dining table taking up the majority of the space seemed to be a dead give away that this was in fact the dining room. Jack put the plate he’d been carrying onto the middle of the table, before pulling out a chair and grinning at me, implying I should sit down.
“You’re being so nice today,” I said, warily sitting down. “I don’t like it.”
“I’m always nice to you, cutie.” I snorted as he sat down next to me, Alex and Lisa sitting across from us as we began to eat. It was fucking gorgeous, which I promptly told Alex, earning a scowl from Jack who was still insisting he had done the most arduous task in bringing it over to the dining room.
“So, how long are you guys going to Washington for?” Lisa asked, taking a sip of her wine.
“I couldn’t tell you exactly,” I shrugged. “We’re staying until at least the 28th, but we haven’t decided if we’re going to do New Years in LA or up there. My friends want us to stay up and go out with them, but that really all depends on how much of an asshole my brother is.” She raised her eyebrows at my words and I laughed lightly. “He’s probably going to love Jack, but still be a butthole for the sake of it. He thinks it’s his duty as my older brother.” She nodded, smiling slightly. I didn’t know how her brother had taken to Alex originally (having, you know, never asked), but I figured she could relate. Brothers were like that.
“I mean, all your friends are crazy though, right?” Jack interrupted. “So, I should probably avoid them at all costs.”
“Drama queen. Apart from Kayla, you’ve met my craziest friend and you love her. You’re in safe hands, I swear.”
“If you say so,” he sniffed, pretending to be apprehensive. I rolled my eyes at Lisa, earning another small smile as we continued our meal, chit chatting about nothing in particular.
“Hey, I didn’t know you played piano,” I said to Alex as we made our way through his study/studio space on our way through to the den, seeing a dark wooden piano nestled in the corner of the room. It was honestly beautiful.
“Uh, yeah,” he shrugged. “Not my first instrument, but yeah.”
“It was mine,” I replied, continuing to follow the others. “I played around with guitar for a couple years, but my parents sent me to piano lessons as a kid.”
“You play?” He asked, surprised. I hadn’t really mentioned it to anyone here. It wasn’t something I indulged in anymore, so it never really came up.
“Not for years.”
“Wait. Why do I not know this?” Jack asked, stopping to look at me.
“Because I haven’t played since I was like 18.” I shrugged, stopping when I realised all three of my companions had stopped. “Aside from Christmases, I haven’t touched a piano since I moved out for college.”
“Play me something.”
I stared at him, unsure if he’d actually said that. I hadn’t played in 7 years, and he expected me to pick up and play something other than fucking chopsticks? He was going to be let down.
“It’s been years, I can’t remember anything.”
“Alex, tell her,” he insisted, turning to his friend. “Your fingers remember chords better than your head does and she’ll remember, right?” Alex nodded and I groaned as Jack began to push me to the piano. He pulled out the large stool, sitting next to me as I raised the lid and hesitated.
What did I play? I thought back to high school, all the songs I taught myself on a night. I remembered Tammy introducing me to Jasey Rae on Punk Goes Acoustic and spending the entire weekend learning it by ear. Of course, now wasn’t the time to tell that story. I thought about the rest of that album, ruling everything out as I went along.
My fingers started playing Between You and I as soon as the thought came to my head. It was simple enough that I wasn’t too concerned about majorly messing up, but Jack had been right. My fingers moved to the next key along without any conscious thought, my lips silently mouthing the words to keep on top of my repetitions, so I didn’t go over or under time.
I remembered why I’d sunk so many hours into this instrument. Remembering the sounds it made and the awe I felt when I managed to actually do it right, actually managed to succeed after hours, days even, of fucking it up.
That isn’t to say I didn’t mess up. I felt my fingers hitting the wrong note every once in a while, cringing as I did so, knowing how out of place it sounded. I was rusty, so it was to be expected, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating. It was pretty much perfect when I’d last played it, so I was going to be annoyed.
I didn’t look up immediately when I’d finished playing. I did lose myself in music sometimes, its what had drawn me to Hopeless in the first place, but I hadn’t been in practice for a long ass time. If I heard my mistakes, for sure the guys had.
“Shit. And you haven’t played in how long?” Jack asked, making me jump a little. It had been mere seconds of silence, but it felt like forever.
“7 years,” I shrugged.
“I wish I’d heard you then. You’re amazing.” He pulled me into a side hug and I looked up to see him grinning widely and began to blush a little. I took everything Jack said with a pinch of salt, knowing he was going to be biased, but it was still nice to hear. “I mean, of course you only know how to play songs from the height of pop-punk, but you’re fucking good, cutie.” He pushed a kiss to my temple and I smiled a little, thankful I wasn’t complete trash.
“I mean, you’re no me, but you’re good, I guess,” Alex said behind me, smirking just in time for me to see as Jack and I turned around to see him and Lisa.
“Oh, what a compliment,” I laughed. “Ass.”
“Nah, you’re now our go-to, back-up piano player for when I’m in a pissy ass mood.” I grinned at him, taking it for the compliment it actually was, despite it clearly being a joke. I was glad they weren’t focussing on the shit parts of my performance. “How come you never mentioned it before?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “It never really came up. It’s not like I’ve been dying to play and couldn’t. It just sort of fell to the back of mind with college and stuff and by the time I met you guys, I didn’t think about it much.”
“Well, you’re good. You should practice more.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I laughed.

Notes

So, it's obviously a bit of a filler.
Can you tell I've lost my motivation?
I'm struggling with this.
I have a notion of where I'm going to end it, which is more than 10 chapters from now (before you, like, panic or anything), but I'm struggling to get there.
I promise, as soon as a chapter is finished, it comes straight to you.
Bear with me.