Page 37 of Saviors

“You’re welcome to watch.” Instead, I followed Reid as he walked into a classroom a few doors down.

The building looked like your average school. Except it was in slight disrepair. The paint on the walls was faded. The scuff marks on the tile could never be removed. And there was a draft.

But it still held that familiar scent. A mix of books, sweat, food, and chalk. It brought back mornings rushing to class. Afternoons spent gossiping by lockers.

Five kids sat around a table with books open and worksheets in front of them. I stood in the doorway and observed as Reid joined them. He didn’t ruffle hair or show his care for them like Maverick, but the affection in his expression was clear.

I was absorbed in watching them. They seemed to know him. They smiled and asked questions. He responded patiently, explaining answers or showing them where to find them in the books.

I lost track of time, captivated by this new side of him, until I realized Connor was gone. My footsteps echoed in the empty hall. I peeked into various classrooms. But the sound of music drew me to the end of the corridor.

My stomach tumbled as I heard the unpracticed plucking of guitar strings. Sweat coated my skin as I came closer. My mouth went dry as I stilled at the entrance.

“That’s really good, Eli.” Connor smiled at the kids in front of him. They were in their early teens. I watched as one boy handed the guitar to the next. He fumbled, attempting to play the same song.

My wounded heart cracked as I listened. As I saw the love forming in their gazes. Not just for Connor, but for the music.

I remembered that moment. When I touched a piano for the first time. Something deep inside me had sighed. Whispered, ‘this is it. The thing you’ve been searching for.’

Only when I was playing did I feel whole. Free. Until my mother had seen how well I played. She twisted it into a job. A chance for me to impress her. But I’d failed.

My lungs constricted as I turned from the room. My eyes burned as I shoved open the next door I saw, needing to get away.

Would I ever have that feeling of hopeful optimism again? Or even just enjoyment? I was afraid I wouldn’t. That he’d taken that part of me. The one that could see magic in simple things.

I took in my surroundings as I blinked back the tears. I was in another music room. Most of the lights were off, casting the room in shadows. There was a cello, a set of drums, and a piano.

Fucking fate.

I should’ve been afraid of this strange, dark place. But I wasn’t. My feet closed the distance without permission. It was like the instrument was calling to me. Begging me to play it.

My fingers skimmed across the dust coated keys. I couldn’t do it. That was from my old life. The old me. Before I was broken.

My legs shook, and I collapsed onto the bench. I felt the black sludge coating my skin. It leaked from my heart until my arms were dark with it. If I touched the piano, I would ruin it.

Just like I was.

But it was as if my body was no longer connected to my mind. My thoughts screamed to stop. Not to touch it.

But my movements were automatic. My hands found the natural position I’d sat in for years. The keys were cool under my touch as my fingers moved.

It was muscle memory as the notes rang out. The sound bounced off the walls. When it hit my ears, all thoughts stopped. It was like I didn’t exist, only the music did.

My eyes closed as I swayed with the melody. It flowed through me. I let the freedom sink in. Let it make me feel weightless. Different.

I’d forgotten how music could transform. How it could take you away from the here and now.

It could transport you to other times and places. Make you feel what the composers had. Love. Pain. Longing. Happiness.

It reverberated in my chest. Reached inside and touched my soul. But instead of becoming stained, it washed it clean.

20

Connor

The last student put their instrument away, calling a goodbye as they walked out. I moved down the hall, searching for Reid and Maverick. We needed to get to the clubs soon.

But my feet stilled when I heard the music coming from next door. The piano was out of tune, but the song was beautiful. It wasn’t a child playing. Or if it was, they were a prodigy. As I headed towards the room, I wondered if they’d found another instructor finally.

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