I scribbled nonsense onto the margin of the blank sheet I stared at. As the teacher went on and on about the revolution of whatever, I was creating notes, rearranging the tone, and suggesting lyrics for a song I hoped would actually come out good. Slowly I was making a song that would fit my depressing mood. I made sure my body covered my notebook, embarrassed if another would read my work, and make fun of it. Every time the teacher neared my table I flipped to a new page and continued my doodling of ducks created from my curvy number 2’s.

I flipped back to look at my lyrics, and had a sudden distaste to it and ran my pen through it furiously. Writer’s block. I’ve been having it for the past year. I hated it. I would go to the piano room and just sit there trying out the keys of the piano but not able to create a song like I was able to in middle school when I was full of things and emotions. I only have one song I enjoyed and had saved on my computer. It was the kind of song you heard KPOP artists sing and dance too. I even made choreography to it. I loved it. And I always caught myself humming or moving my foot to the rhythm in my head.

When the class was over I packed my things and started walking out of the classroom when I heard a large group of girls shriek. Not scream, or giggle. But shriek; like monsters. I turned the very opposite of where I heard it, even if that was the way to the piano room. I would just go around the whole floor, as long as I didn’t get caught in the middle of whatever trouble or fan girl craze was happening.

When I arrived to the room, it seemed that the commotion I was trying to distance myself from followed me, the girls were whispering to each other as the ‘Idol Student’ as people called him walked down the hallways with nervous glances. So much pressure, he needs a real friend.

…

Oh well.

Slipping inside I closed the door shut behind me, and looked around the room. Eight pianos sat inside, two rows of four with two benches in front of each one. I entered through the back door, and I headed towards the piano in the very front, the piano the teacher used. It was bigger than the others, with better quality and more variation of sounds.

I placed my fingers on the very familiar keys and started playing the beginning of a song I’ve been trying to work on.

Please give my heart a break

My heart a break

On Monday, I went home, alone

I’ve been crying so many tears

It’s all I had. And I didn’t like it, but I also did like it. The song was in English, my primary language. Like most of the songs I try to start off. I fished out my song book, a notebook I pasted pictures of music notes and quotes I created and found on the net.

I flipped to a page with blotches of grease and water, the page I turned to a lot. It was a song I wrote during the summer before my writers block.  I didn’t really like it, but it was the only song on the piano I could play. Standing it up in front of me, I placed my fingers on the keys carefully, and started to play.

My right hand played different notes than the left hand, the melody carrying gout through the empty room and bouncing back towards me from the walls.

I’ve been stranded on a lonely street

Got lost in the shadows

Fell hard in the battle

I changed the notes, going lower on the keys to make it fit my husky voice.

Heard cries and the suffering

Walked through the darkness

Left broken and heartless

I stopped for a moment, fixing my fingers so they hovered over the needed keys, then started again as I parted my lips to continue singing.

I’m calling out, can you hear my voice

I’m gonna find you through all the noise

You know there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do

Shine your light as I reach for you

At this point, the notes were to high to sing, it would certainly attract attention. Plus, with my tired mood today, I wasn’t up for a kind it. But I still sang one line of the chorus a couple of times,

My heart beats for love,

My heart beats for love,

My heart beats for lo~ve.

I held the note and stretched the vowel , before letting my hands slip onto my thighs. Lately life has been just, fine. Boring, calm, unchanging as ever. My grades stayed around the 80’s, and I was friends with most of my fellow college freshmans’s. My best friend lived too far for my parents to allow me to see her, so we could only see each other when we go to the movies. She was not in my school either, which made it worse.

I reached for my book when I heard clapping. Looking up quickly, I sharply looked at the soft orange haired boy. He smiled, and was sitting on one of the benches in front of the piano closest to the one I was just playing on. He must have gotten here while I was distracted. I’m usually a sharp person, but when I was in front of music, I wasn’t myself somehow.

“Sorry if I startled you, I came in when I saw you come in. Thought it was a safe place to hide in.” He’s cheeks were pink, his hair out of place, and I could see the last of the sweat around his neck. I smiled politely,

“It’s OK. I was just leaving anyways.” Standing, I grabbed my song book, put it away and threw the bookbag over my shoulder.

“Was that an original piece?” He hadn’t moved from his seat, trying out a couple of keys like I did before playing.

“Maybe.” I muttered, shrugging off his curiosness. It was too embarrasing. What if he hated that song? I know not everyone is going to like on thing, but I could bear listening to another trash talk about my music, so I always kept it to myself.

“It’s really good. I like it.” He played a few keys and sang in English like I had.  I’m calling out, can you hear my voice

I’m gonna find you through all the noise

He stopped, and looked over his shoulder at me, where I stood near the door facing him. “I like that line.” He spoke to me in English now, but I kept responding in Korean.

With a glance to the wall I said, “You make it sound better.”

“Nah.”

“Of course, you’re an idol.”

He frowned at this, like he expected me to not know who he was. But it was hard not to know when he was a part of the sub group of the idol group that girls mostly obsessed over in this school, Super Junior. He shrugged away my comment. “Teach me the song someday?”

My slow openness shut before I could get comfortable, and with a mimicking shrug I said, “Maybe.” I left, listening to the sound of a couple of more keys being toyed with before I shut the door. It was too bad I didn’t know the guys name. I have seen his face, but his name was far. Despite him being the ‘Idol Student’, it was what he went by to me. I never really heard his name, or maybe I did but I didn’t allow for it to distract me from whatever I was doing at the moment.

*Song used, My Heart Beats for Love, by Miley Cyrus.

Posted Dember 24th, 2011, 1:50 pm

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!