The Forgotten Melody (MI Challenge)
“You will truly understand… Thy Music art not magnificent with the absence of appreciation, it lives in our heart, deep in our soul, where it tells a story of its own, and each story has its own value.”
Music is not simply a medium of entertainment, it is a story of life... The way of the living.
This is a story of a girl and a boy whose lives, have been intertwined by the fingers of fate, and the tongue of music.
This is a story of life and death, dreams and hope, connection and disconnection…
This is a story of The Forgotten Melody…
Title: The Forgotten Melody
Class: Fan fiction
Genre: Angst, drama
Background: Alternate Universe (Cross-over)
Length: One-Shot (1625 words)
This is a REAL Original Story of Pararae
Those who practice copying without permission (plagiarism) are not welcome.
Work of 7 December 2010
Challenge Site: http://midnight-illusionsx.blogspot.com/
Category: Author of the Month
The silent air of the room tensed around the solo pianist, clad in a white collared shirt underneath the deep blue vest, dark blue pants and white school shoes, sitting on a black stool in front of the mahogany made grand piano in the middle of the room. He tucked his left hand out of the pocket while his right arranging two pieces of paper filled with a new song he just composed last night in his dim room. As soon as he placed both of his hands on the black and white keys, a soft melody filled the room as the slender fingers ran across the keys like a moving art, creating a beautiful music in every move. His hand turned and made a round in front of him as he closed his eyes, letting his free mind playing the music that so deeply carved in his heart.
The music started with a soft, soothing melody with no disturbance from the inside of the empty room or the outside of the open double-lash windows, as if everything had frozen in its movement, including time and the birds outside the glass window. Every son and daughter of nature respected the talent of the prodigy by giving him a silent of complementation and let the music became the song for the world to hear. A sudden flight of the melody echoed through the room when the slender fingers ran rapidly over the white keys before it jumped to the far left of the piano, creating a dangerous, sharp note before it settled on a fast pace crescendo.
The musician lifted his head slightly and a small gawky smile etched above his jaw as if his soul had leaved his own body and joined the music, dancing in the air. He took a deep breath when the music brought him up to the climax of the keys, before it slowly cadenced into a soft melody like a cavernous echo. But as beautiful as the melody and as refreshing the movements of those lithe fingers are, they were not even close to his feet. With his raven, jet hair, his round, doe eyes, his perfect, pale complexion and his cherry lips, he even beat the angels with his perfection. He was like the god’s masterpiece that was born from the mortal’s womb, so the world could see the heavenly being of the seventh sky. He was truly the goddess’ envy and the men’s pride.
As the music came almost to the end, an almost soundless gasp shattered his thought before his hands fell limp to his side and the melody dropped to the floor like a cup of nothingness. A silent curse is heard, followed by a slap of hands to the mouth behind the door. The man tilted his head slightly from the piano and glanced towards the creak of the door where a pair of eyes was watching him with a face of guilt over the pouty lips. A comfortable silence befalls them before the curious pianist smiled gently and reached out his hand in a gesture manner of friendliness.
I eyed his harmless hand and his round, innocent eyes before a sense of courage urged my legs to step forward into the room and into the opening in which I am fully visible to the pianist whom I have watched from afar all these years. It was awkward like a mischievous kid confronted by an angry mother, but it was also a pleasing one as his tender stare engulfed me with a strong, welcoming vibe of affability. As the soft, warm touch of the hands that I have grew to admire wrapped my hand and pulled me closer, next to him, I felt like I have been lifted to the peak of the mountain with a cold, diamond tiara on top of my head.
“What’s your name?” His voice rang in my ears like a morning bell and I could not help myself but to give the brightest smile he could ever imagined. Looking at my reddened cheek, he covered his mouth and gave the most adorable giggle I have ever heard, but aside all of that, I felt foolish at my own reaction.
“I’m Raven.” I quickly answered to stop his giggling and found myself staring at the black and white keys instead of his face.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” I looked up to his face and giggled at his compliment before my eyes settled on the white sheet beside him. He followed my stare and smiled knowingly before he leaned closer to my face and whispered, “Say, would you like to hear my new song? I composed it last night and I have not thought of a title yet. Maybe you could help me to find one.” I nodded at his statement eagerly as he positioned himself on the black stool. I watched him cracking his knuckles before resting it on the white keys, hardly touching. I held my breath as my brain crammed with hundreds of thoughts and expectation of the music before I brought both of my hand to the front of my chest, looking like a hypnotized fan worshipping an idol than a mere girl expecting music.
The tune started with a sad, melancholy music foxtrot across the empty room, illuminating an aura of grave grief and angst. The lithe fingers danced beautifully on the keys like an ice-skater skating on the ice ring and produced a melodious beat that managed to bring the room into the solace of random metronome. The music crescendo, desuetude itself within the air overflowed the distinguished man’s lungs. The heavy, lifeless breath crystallized the soften dream and vision of the composed artist and the solo audience in the room in deep thoughts of pure self-seclusion, engulfed ourselves into the anguish music. The raging chorus evoked the painful memories from the thick page of the enticing man and penetrated it in every corner of the room to the point that I can feel the painful journey and the teary message of the music deep in my core.
I watched him closing his eyes as the music wrapped his mind like a fine silk cloth, bringing him on a flight with the climax of the mellifluous melody and brought him up to his fantasy hill. A loud, powerful beat bounced out of the heavenly instrument before it cadenced and faded away like a cavernous echo, disappearing altogether behind the brick walls. By that time, both of us were too occupied by the supremacy of the melody, to even voice out a word and disturb the feeling lingered in the air.
I could not decide whether I was amazed by the skill or touched by the melody and even before I could recheck myself, I uncertainly licked my ivory teeth and said, “Perhaps, we should name it ‘The Forgotten Melody’.”
“That is exactly what I was thinking.” I smiled to his comment before we fell into a friendly conversation about the music and so forth that I have forgotten about the retiring sun on the far horizon. It was like a fate, after watching him from afar for so many years, I could finally stand this close to him and share knowledge and jokes. It was as if we were meant to be friends and we liked the idea of it.
After ten years I have moved away from the neighborhood, my mind is still replaying our first memory like a DVD player and even when I have reached my 17 years of life, I still thought of him as an angel dwelling in a lonely place where his companion was the singing piano and his audiences were the world itself. I was lucky to be able to meet him and I am the luckiest person in the world to be able to keep his original copies of music sheets and inherited his piano when he died in the accident.
Even though his dream to become the most famous musician lost with him, but to me, he was the best pianist and the world just lost the most talented man in the world whom cannot be replaced by anyone in the next century.
Even after ten years of his death, he still lived deep inside of me. Often, I could hear his voice, ringing in my ears reminding me the first time I have learned of his name as the record of ‘The Forgotten Melody’ sang in the background in the empty room…
“My name is Kim Jaejoong and my dream is to become a famous musician so that one day, the world would acknowledge the beauty of arts in the face of music.”
And may his soul rest in peace…
DATE:Monday, December 6, 2010