3-4: At the end of the path...I found you

Fran’s Point of View

My earliest memory could be summed up in four words.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

Since I was little, my life revolved around music. My parents were famous musicians, so the expectations about me were high.

“Mom…my hands hurt…”

“Rest for thirty minutes and then start again from the beginning.”

Every single instrument they were able to play perfectly, I was expected to do the same and somehow, doing it better.

I was raised to love music, so I thought that at some point I would enjoy everything.

“Today after your lesson you're gonna see a teacher, he should teach you about magic.”

Even the things like magic were tied to the music. The only things I was allowed to learn were the things that wouldn’t distract me from my lessons. Even when musical magic is perceived as one of the most inefficient styles, if that helped me to have a deeper knowledge about magic, anything else would be irrelevant.

I thought everything would be okay just doing what they wanted, that’s how my world was supposed to work. But, one day I found a musical box.

“...”

It was on the floor, almost broken, but the mechanism was somehow working. When I used it, I tried to imitate the sound, but I didn’t have any instrument with me at that moment.

“...”

My first idea was just dropping it, after all, I wasn’t allowed to take trash home, but I also knew that I couldn’t just forget that sound. Without any other idea, I tried to do the melody with my own voice.

“Tin tin tin...”

That was my first time doing music without any instruments. That felt totally different, but at the same time, comfortable.

“...”

Doing music without instruments made me feel full of life. I wanted to learn more, so I investigated other people that were dedicated to singing, getting more and more interest.

One day, I stole money from my parents and bought a book about poetry. I got so interested in singing that I thought that I could give lyrics to the songs I was forced to learn.

“...Instead of “jail” I could use “cage"…Then I could do an interesting rhyme…”

I used those tiny moments where I wasn’t practicing with instruments to write lyrics. When I completed my first song, I practiced until I was able to sing it without forgetting anything.

“They will love this.”

I wanted to show them my efforts, I wanted to show them that thanks to their lessons I managed to reach my own type of music. But when I did it…

“Are you done?”

“Huh?”

My father was the first to speak. He seemed disappointed.

“You’ve been wasting your time with that?”

“I-I…”

“I understand you feel curiosity, but you must separate it from the music.”

“...”

My mother was the next.

“I thought you were using your free time practicing other instruments.”

“I was…”

“Does the money that disappeared some weeks ago have anything to do with this hobby?”

“Huh! I-.”

“I don’t care about that, just, stop wasting your time."

“...What do you both think…?”

I used all my strengths for asking that, maybe...and just maybe, I did a good job.

“...Stop trying, that was mediocre, that’s all.”

With those words, I lost the only thing that actually brought a smile to my face.

“...”

“Good job, you’re getting better with the violin.”

“...Thanks…”

My first thoughts were correct. Obeying their lessons, everything became easy. I participated in concerts, showed my talent to other people, I even was able to compose some songs that were claimed as "beautiful".

“...”

“Fran.”

“Yes?”

“In a few days, you'll have to take the exam to enter a magic academy, so practice your music until that day arrives.”

“...”

“We’re gonna pay the matriculation, just keep practicing to compensate for the hours you will be in there.”

“...Yes…”

One of the things I needed for being independent was learning magic, so they put me in there as a way to prepare me for the future. Of course, I got terrible results, so I ended up in the normal class.

“We’re gonna send you to the academy tomorrow, don’t forget any of your instruments.”

“Yes…”

“Also, send us a proof of your progress every week, you can’t neglect your principal task.”

“Yes…”

I reached the place some days before the classes started, so I used my free time composing and learning more about music.

“...”

After finishing one of my songs, I was ready to start reading about piano, but the piece of paper I was using fell to the floor.

“...”

When I picked the paper, I saw the blank side, normally I wouldn’t do anything, but…no one was looking at me.

“...”

My body moved by his own, writing words that matched with the song. I don’t know why I never gave up after all those years…Maybe I’m just an idiot.

“...”

“Hello?”

And, that day, the guy who changed my life just entered the room.

“...What’s wrong with him?”

The day after one of our Physical Education classes, I saw my roommate trying to do some kind of show with puppets, but no one was looking, and somehow he didn’t seem to understand why that was happening. Maybe he didn’t realize that everyone was scared of him after what he did to that guy? I mean, I don’t think he’s that dumb.

“I’m gonna try to ignore him…”

I was planning to go to the art classroom and practice with my violin there. Of all my instruments the violin is the one I feel more comfortable with, so I try to play it better so I could use it to do magic.

“...Huh?”

I walked past him and could hear a song he was whistling. Even after all my classes, after everything I'd learned, I didn't recognize that song. Maybe what I was about to do was a bad idea, but I needed to know what it was.

“Excuse me…”

I was educated to love music at the same level I could love my parents, so I needed to know what that was. And somehow, I ended up with him in the art classroom.

“You can start…”

“Okay.”

While he was whistling, I adapted everything to a musical sheet. I was surprised because he didn’t look like the type of person who would know such a melancholic song.

When I finished it, he insisted that I should play it, so I grabbed my violin and accepted his request.

“Woah.”

“It’s good…?”

“It is, you’re really good with the violin.”

“...My family is known for their music…”

“That explains it.”

That kind of praise didn’t make me feel anything. I heard that a lot of times, hearing it again wasn’t something special.

“Well…thanks…you can go…”

“Huh? We still have time.”

“I don’t want to be a bother…”

I could practice in any other place, so I left the classroom for him. He was interesting, but that’s all…

“I can show you more songs.”

“I don’t think you know any more unknown songs…”

“Well…”

Looking back would be a waste of time, so I prepared to open the door and left him talking alone…But, I heard something.

“...Huh?”

I immediately stopped when I heard what he was singing. I didn’t know that song, not even that language.

“W-What is that song?”

He caught my attention. He got me back in my seat, and I don't regret it.

He explained to me the meaning of the words he was using and even what was the feeling that was supposed to be shown in each part, he even danced to give me better examples.

…Writing what he told me, adapting it to my own language, and receiving his help…I felt comfortable with all that…So comfortable that I wasn’t able to control myself.

“...Tica linga lira….”

“Huh?”

He stopped after hearing something. I was too slow to realize the distraction he heard was me.

“That was your singing voice?”

“Ah!...I did it out loud…?”

My only wish at that moment was to disappear…I really sang out loud? He probably stopped because he was grossed out by my voice…

“Yeah.”

“S-Sorry for-.”

“Do it again.”

“Huh?”

“I wanna hear it better.”

Maybe he was teasing me, so I tried to not do what he wanted.

“...My voice is awful…”

“C’mon, just a little.”

“...You’re not gonna laugh?”

“I only laugh with jokes.”

“...All right…”

He was insisting too much, so I imitated the song he was singing but in my language. Of course, I made some mistakes because I just learned it, but I managed to sing until the end. Although I was waiting to hear a laugh, he started clapping.

“That was really good!”

“...Isn't that good…”

“The heck are you talking about?! I loved every single part. I can’t even imagine how you would sound if you actually memorized the entire lyrics!”

What was he even talking about? I’m a bad singer. He was trying to be kind? Whatever he was trying, I didn’t want him to continue with it.

“...Really, it's not that good…”

“Stop saying that.”

“I’m only good with instruments…that’s what everyone praises.”

“They’re stupid.”

He approached me, and that confused me. I was confused when he praised my voice, I was confused when he stood up from his seat, and I was confused when he touched my neck.

“This is totally your best instrument, and you clearly enjoyed using it, so stop talking trash about it.”

“...But.”

“I’m gonna give you all the praises you deserve until you get the message.”

He smiled, and that smile made me understand that he was telling the truth.

That smile…was totally different to the one my parents put when I did a good job with each instrument…That smile…warmed my heart.

“...”

I wanted to say a lot of things, I wanted to do a lot of things, I felt like everything was full of colors.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but I wanted to be with him more. It doesn’t matter if it was for an hour, a minute, a second, I tried to be at his side. I didn’t fully understand him, but I was happy, happy to know his other friend, happy to be able to call him by a nickname, happy to be with him after a painful moment. Every time I learned more about him, I only wanted to know more and more.

We are friends, we see each other as friends, but, calling my feelings just "friendship" would be something wrong.

Those feelings...always make me smile.