Quiet Chords

In the dancing studio, Lalin was by herself as the mirrors reflected her image back to her like a silent judge. The floor was cool and slippery under her bare feet, and the air had a subtle taste of sweat and rubber. After rehearsal, she had sneaked in here in the hopes that the comfortable surroundings would calm her pounding heart. Rather, it accentuated each uncertainty. She replayed the moment she'd frozen mid-performance last week, her body refusing to move, her breath trapped in her throat, her fingers gripping the barre, knuckles turning white. The memory continued to torment her until it was broken by the sound of Kiet's violin from the previous day. It had tied her when she had felt lost; it was steady and soft. She pondered whether she could ever find that peace again as she looked at her anxious reflection.

Sharp and decisive, her breath cut through the silence. She stood up, picked up her stuff, and walked out of the studio.

With his violin case on his side, Kiet sat quietly on the steps outside the music building. The courtyard was painted in tones of amber and shadow as the late afternoon light sank. The aroma of diesel and jasmine from the adjacent parking lot filled the air. His fingers tapped on his knee in time with the distant murmur of students milling by in loose groupings. The notes were still echoing in his head like a dying pulse after he had just completed practicing. This place served as his buffer; it was both close to the outside world and remote enough for him to breathe.

He looked up as a shadow fell across the steps. Lalin stood there, her eyes flashing with something softer, almost hesitant, but her posture was strong. With a hint of nervousness, she adjusted the strap of her bag.

"Hey," she said in a casual yet purposeful tone. "Got a minute?"

Kiet cocked an interested head. "Yes. What's happening?

After making sure they were alone by looking around the courtyard, she looked up into his eyes. "I'd like to pick up the violin. from you.

Her words knocked him off his feet, and he froze. "Me? "Why?"

With a half-shrug covering the strain in her shoulders, Lalin adjusted her weight. "Yesterday, I heard you perform. It was Calm, I don't know. That's what I need now. I'm feeling suffocated by dancing, so I figured this could help.

Kiet thought about her, sorting through her request. He hardly felt he had earned his own spot with the instrument and wasn't a teacher. However, her words had an unvarnished honesty that reflected the silent pain he carried. Perhaps this was his chance to repay her for the one time she had defended him.

"I'm no expert," he said, his words measured. However, I can teach you the fundamentals. if you're willing."

She smiled briefly as her face brightened. "Yes, I am. When are we able to begin?

He paused, then gave the structure behind him a nod. "There's no better moment than right now. The room is free.

The music room surrounded them like a cocoon, with the earthy sting of rosin in the air and polished wood shining in the low light. The violin was wrapped in fading velvet as Kiet placed his case on a table and opened it. Lalin lingered close, her fingers twitching as though she wanted to touch it.

With a fluid grace that had been refined by habit, he raised the instrument and settled it under his chin. He said, "Start here," and showed the hold. "Like this."

Lalin moved forward and carefully picked up the violin. The strings were stiff on her fingertips, and it felt strange—too light but unforgiving. Her shoulders were rigid as she struggled to adopt his posture. Kiet stretched out and gently nudged her hold into place.

"Ease up," he stated in a forceful yet low voice. "It's not going to bite."

She gave a wobbly but genuine snort of laughter. "Could've fooled me."

"You're not wrestling it," he said, his lips curving slightly. "You're guiding it."

His notes rang warm and clean as he played a basic scale. Lalin dragged the bow across the strings in an attempt to imitate him. Heat crept up her neck as she startled as a sharp cry broke out.

Unfazed, Kiet shook his head. "That is typical. Continue.

They exchanged tries and tweaks for the next hour, his steady direction softening her awkward scrapes. A sharp contrast to the silence outside, the room echoed with the unadulterated sounds of her education. Kiet's gentle patience eroded her self-consciousness as the violin became less alien with each pass.

Their lessons carved out a secret rhythm as the days stretched into weeks. They would sneak into the music room when the hallways were empty, such as during lunch breaks or after school. Lalin's bow strokes became less irregular as her fingers became calloused. Although she wasn't yet a master, the violin was a liberation, a place where she couldn't be reached by pirouettes or demands. More than anything, Kiet's serene demeanour and seldom grins gave the space a sense of security.

Lalin stood at the door one day, her bow hanging in her palm as they packed everything. Her voice was hardly audible above a whisper as she questioned, "Why do you keep doing this?" "Helping me, I mean."

With his hands motionless on his case, Kiet hesitated. His attention was on the violin as he tucked it away, not on her. "You were eager to learn. And, you know, it's nice to have another person in this. reduces the sense of loneliness.

She caught the weight he didn't say by nodding. "All right, thanks. for not making fun of me.

"You're not laughable," he murmured, finally looking her in the eyes. "You're making an effort. That's sufficient.

Outside their haven, the school continued to operate, unaware but vigilant. Mina leaned towards her plate in the cafeteria, her fork hovering as she followed Lalin's most recent departure. "She's been off lately," she whispered, her brow furrowed, to no one in particular.

Chai's smile was bright as he gave Kiet a shoulder clap across the courtyard. "These days, you're continually vanishing. What's going on?"

Kiet shrugged, a cautious mask covering his face. "Just messing around with some new pieces."

Chai's gaze lingered, questioning, yet he casually said, "Huh. You had better not be lazy.

Lalin and Kiet were afraid to address the unspoken questions that strained the air between their worlds. Their faint chord held, a delicate, transient harmony, for the moment.