Okay, so it goes like this. C. is an ex but we still see each other sometimes.
Antoine is C's friend, and he is the owner of the Bésixdouze,
you know, that restaurant up at Auvergne station with the sunsets.
He knows Darren, who often plays music at the Bé Bar down planetside in Clermont.
And the dress, Gods, I do not know who is responsible for that dress
-golden, uncomfortable, beautiful. I love it, I hate it so Probably Amarrian.
Please don't quote me on that.
Got it? Goodie.
It had started a few months ago. Just me and a microphone, sometimes someone else with a guitar. A dark place and handful of people, never more than a dozen, to listen. It felt releasing, you know, to just let words out, to shape feelings into words.
I wanted to weave words into a story -no, not a story. A journey? I did not want them to know a story but to feel how it felt. Exhilarating, happy, loved, then betrayed, sad and angry. In that order. I just wanted to share; why not? Then I also wanted it to sound beautiful. It was just words in the beginning but it was only natural that words would find music. And music would always find people.
I... was not so sure I wanted people to find me.
I had probably sung in public less that half a dozen times,
first to a handful,
then to a roomful... then Antoine found out and talked me into appearing at the Bé with Darren. Weeks later I was regretting it already, clad in that dress, and the lights were too bright, and I was nervous, and there was an audience out there and, and, and... An actual audience, like fifty of them and then some, just being seated and finally, right, at least a couple of them I knew. Goodbye anonymity, it was nice knowing you.
"Darren, is it too late to back out of this?" I asked, wringing my hands.
"Quin, you will be fine," he said reassuringly.
"You will pay for this, you know."
"Nnnope,
they will pay," he grinned. "In fact, they already have and quite a bit, to listen to
you." He paused before adding "no pressure."
I laughed nervously. "I hate you. Just so you know."
Still grinning, he replied by striking the first chords. I breathed in as I took to the microphone.
This is how I feel.
Seconds march into the past
Moments pass and just like that
They're gone
The river always finds the sea
So helplessly like you find me
We are paper boats floating on a stream
And it would seem we'll never be apart
I will always find you
Like it's written in the stars
You can run, but you can't hide, try
Like the moon that makes the tides
That silent guide is calling from inside
Pull me here and push me there
It's everywhere, hanging in the air
We are magnets pulling from different poles
With no control, we'll never be apart
I will always find you
Like it's written in the stars
You can run, but you can't hide, try
I will always, always find you
I will always
I will always, always find you
I will always
I will always find you
Like it's written in the stars
We can run, but we can't hide, try
I will always find you
Like it's written in the stars
We can run, but we can't hide, try
I will always, always find you
I will alwaysSinq Laison, June 117
--
I loved how it came out. It is always that way as soon as I finish (all four or five times), I feel released and serene. Maybe it has to do with getting weight off my heart; maybe it is just the need to share something with people, to reach out to them even if they don't get it.
On my way out to change and join my friends I found myself talking to this woman, who turned out to be a reporter for
Le Clarion, a news outlet out of Clermont. She had questions. So we talked, while I seriously considered ripping away part of that beautiful, confining gown.
"Thank you for your time," she closed after a few minutes. "You know, it is interesting to find a capsuleer, and a racer, writing songs and singing on stage. How do you find the words?"
"Well, it is just how I feel. I think it is a privilege to be able to share that and it makes me happy if people like it. Do you?"
"I think this was a wonderful love song."
"Thank you," I smiled as I looked for words she may want to hear. "I like to think there is something for everyone in it." I watched as she walked away, preparing the article for casting from her pad and thought it was funny she would say that. Love? How could she not tell? It was not a song about love.
It was about revenge.
Oh well. They really don't get it. Or maybe it was true and there was something different for everyone in that song. I walked as I began to sing to myself.
This is how I feel.I will always find you
Like it's written in the stars
You can run, but you can't hide.
Just try.
Q
--
OOC: While looking for a new forum avatar some time ago I came across Red and someone was kind enough to point me towards the Transistor game. What I found was a visually gorgeous game with beautiful music by Darren Korb and vocals by Ashley Barret and an engaging story in a sci-fi world. No, I have not played it but the music and art alone are worth it -that's what this story is built around but credit is theirs. OK, I tried playing and I suck at it, so what. Go check it out!
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Topic: Paper Boats (Read 1058 times)