Chapter 8:
Chapter 8: A Music with no Song
Connected by Melody
NOAH
As the sun rose, spilling light across my room, I woke to the quiet of a Saturday morning. For a while, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the soft warmth of the sheets around me.
Yesterday still lingered in my mind, strange, unreal, yet unforgettable. Somehow, I’d ended up on a date with a girl I’d just met.
A girl I once thought was a ghost.
A beautiful siren.
Her name was Melody.
She never told me her last name, maybe she wasn’t ready to share something that personal. Then again, we’d only known each other for two days.
The first time we met, I panicked, I ran like an idiot, convinced I’d seen a ghost. But instead of fear, what stayed with me was fascination. There was something about her that drew me in, her eyes, her presence, her voice. Everything about her felt otherworldly, and yet, somehow alive.
What made her so different from everyone else?
Yuki is beautiful, and Cassie has her own kind of charm, I won’t deny that. But Melody… Melody was something else. It wasn’t just her face that caught me. It was her voice, that voice that reached inside me and quieted everything I’d been carrying.
For a moment, it felt like all my problems had disappeared, as if her song had washed my soul clean.
I was preparing to head out, but this time, I wasn’t hiding my guitar. For once, I wanted to walk out the door without feeling guilty about who I was.
Minnie was busy with her work, clicking away at her laptop, when suddenly she called out,
"Noah, come here for a second."
Her tone was casual, but the moment I stepped into the living room, my stomach dropped.
She was on a video call.
And on the screen… was my father.
He didn’t hold any personal grudge against me for playing music, at least, not before. But ever since my grandfather disappeared, something in him had changed. He started to sound more like my mother, like music was some sort of disease to be cured rather than a gift to be nurtured.
From what I remember, my father was an incredible bassist. I used to watch him play when I was small. I once asked if he’d give me his bass when I grew up. He smiled that day, but that promise never came true.
Now, seeing his face on the laptop, I instinctively dropped my guitar to the floor, out of frame, just in case.
"Hello, son," he said, with that firm but distant tone I hadn’t heard in months. "It’s been quite some time since we sent you to Willowmori. How are your studies?"
I swallowed. "Everything’s good."
"Good," he said, nodding slowly. "And how’s the medical program? Are you keeping up with your classes?"
"Yeah. It’s… challenging. But I’m managing."
"Managing," he repeated, almost like testing the word. "Your mother told me she saw you yesterday. She said you’ve grown."
"Yeah, she showed up early," I replied, forcing a smile. "It was… quite a surprise."
He gave a faint chuckle that didn’t sound real. "That’s your mother for you. Always impatient. She’s been worried about you, you know."
"Worried?"
He nodded. "About your focus. We sacrificed a lot to send you there, Noah. This opportunity, medicine, the exams, it’s not something everyone gets."
"I know," I said quietly.
"Then make sure you remember that," he continued. "Music won’t give you a stable future. It’s just a hobby, not a career. You understand, right?"
My throat tightened. "Yeah," I lied.
He smiled faintly, satisfied. "Good. That’s my boy. Just keep your priorities straight. One day you’ll thank us."
Silence filled the room like a weight pressing down on my chest. I could feel Minnie’s eyes on me, waiting for me to say something—anything. But all I could hear was the echo of his voice in my head.
After a few seconds, I leaned closer to the laptop and said, "Thanks, Dad. I’ll… keep that in mind."
"Good. Take care of yourself, son."
"You too."
And before he could say anything else, I clicked the laptop shut.
The sound of it closing was louder than it should’ve been.
I exhaled and rubbed my temples. Minnie didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.
I picked up my guitar and slung it over my shoulder. "I’ll be back later," I muttered, heading for the door.
I wasn’t angry. Just… tired.
Tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t.Usually on weekends, I hang out with my friends. But this time, everyone was busy and that was a problem, yesterday I told her we’d meet tomorrow night. Night. Not today. Seriously, how stupid can I be?
It was 8:45 in the morning, and if I wanted to find her, I had to rely on something other than logic, I had to see from my heart. She could be anywhere. And if I just started playing my guitar in the streets, I’d look like some desperate street performer begging for coins.
Still, I went back to the old radio station, hoping maybe… she’d be there.
I strummed a few chords, waiting for something or anything.
But nothing.
Figures.
So I decided to wander around town instead.
The center was busier than usual, the smell of coffee, chatter, and seagulls overhead. That’s when I noticed something down the street: a stage being built by the beach. Workers were hauling speakers and lighting rigs, and fliers everywhere announced The Amadeus Academy Jury Performance.
Guess that’s where everyone would be in three weeks.
I started strumming softly as I walked. Maybe, just maybe, she’d hear me. Maybe I’d find her again around singing, smiling, lost in her own world.
And somehow, I was right.
There she was. Melody, humming to herself as she wandered between the shops, her dark hair swaying, her blue eyes bright with that dreamlike glow.
I smiled, ready to call out, until I realized how ridiculous I must look, chasing after thin air. To everyone else, I was just a guy running through the street with a guitar, reaching out to nothing.
And then, of course, fate decided to ruin the moment.
I bumped into someone I’d rather never see again.
Joe Fosuta.
If annoyance had a face, it’d be his.
We’d been rivals since the academy entrance exams. The judges couldn’t decide between us, so they made us take a test and of course I won. Ever since then, he’s treated me like I’d "stolen" his spot.
"Well, well," Joe said, smirking. "If it isn’t the prodigy himself. Out here busking already? Gave up on your mommies allowance and decided to beg for tips?"
"Morning, Joe," I said flatly, sidestepping him. My eyes were darting past the crowd, trying to catch another glimpse of her.
He scoffed. "What’s with that look? Lost your mind or something? Oh, wait - you always were kind of weird. Maybe the academy finally realized you’re just a fluke."
"Yeah, sure," I muttered, barely listening. I could hear her voice, faint, carried by the sea breeze.
Joe leaned forward, grinning. "You ignoring me now? Man, you really think you’re better than me, huh?"
"Not really," I said, eyes scanning the beach. And then, there. Near the water, by the half-built stage, there she was, Melody, watching the workers with that childlike fascination.
Without another word, I broke into a run.
"Hey! I’m talking to you—"
My guitar swung over my shoulder as I passed him, and — thud! — it accidentally smacked him right in the chest, sending him stumbling backward into a pile of trash bags.
"Ah— sorry!" I yelled, not stopping.
Behind me, I could hear Joe’s furious shouting echoing through the street.
"NOAH! YOU—!"
His voice faded with every step I took.
But I didn’t care.
Because ahead of me, by the sea, stood the girl whose song could quiet my entire world.I arrived at the beach, but the place was packed, families, students, vendors, all blending into a blur of sound and color. I scanned the crowd, searching, until finally… I saw her.
Melody.
She was standing near the edge of the sand, watching the waves with that same serene smile. But there were too many people between us, faces, noise, laughter, all in the way.
She was slipping further and further from sight.
I tried to push through, but it was useless. And then, out of nowhere, a small voice called out:
"Are you going to play a song?"
A little girl was looking up at me, her hand held by her mother.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I smiled faintly, adjusted the strap of my guitar, and let my fingers fall onto the strings.
The sound that came out wasn’t planned. It didn’t have words or rhythm, just emotion. A soft, melancholy melody that carried over the noise of the beach. It wasn’t perfect, it didn’t need to be. It was me with my confusion, my longing, my search for something I still didn’t fully understand.
This music had no lyrics, only feeling.
A call for meaning and a call for heart.
As I played, the crowd faded. The sound of the waves dimmed. The world around me seemed to slow.
And in that moment, only one person existed in my eyes.
Melody.
Her gaze met mine across the sea of people, and though we didn’t speak, I could feel it, that silent connection between us.
Two souls, bound by a song that didn’t need words.
As the sun rose, spilling light across my room, I woke to the quiet of a Saturday morning. For a while, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the soft warmth of the sheets around me.
Yesterday still lingered in my mind, strange, unreal, yet unforgettable. Somehow, I’d ended up on a date with a girl I’d just met.
A girl I once thought was a ghost.
A beautiful siren.
Her name was Melody.
She never told me her last name, maybe she wasn’t ready to share something that personal. Then again, we’d only known each other for two days.
The first time we met, I panicked, I ran like an idiot, convinced I’d seen a ghost. But instead of fear, what stayed with me was fascination. There was something about her that drew me in, her eyes, her presence, her voice. Everything about her felt otherworldly, and yet, somehow alive.
What made her so different from everyone else?
Yuki is beautiful, and Cassie has her own kind of charm, I won’t deny that. But Melody… Melody was something else. It wasn’t just her face that caught me. It was her voice, that voice that reached inside me and quieted everything I’d been carrying.
For a moment, it felt like all my problems had disappeared, as if her song had washed my soul clean.
I was preparing to head out, but this time, I wasn’t hiding my guitar. For once, I wanted to walk out the door without feeling guilty about who I was.
Minnie was busy with her work, clicking away at her laptop, when suddenly she called out,
"Noah, come here for a second."
Her tone was casual, but the moment I stepped into the living room, my stomach dropped.
She was on a video call.
And on the screen… was my father.
He didn’t hold any personal grudge against me for playing music, at least, not before. But ever since my grandfather disappeared, something in him had changed. He started to sound more like my mother, like music was some sort of disease to be cured rather than a gift to be nurtured.
From what I remember, my father was an incredible bassist. I used to watch him play when I was small. I once asked if he’d give me his bass when I grew up. He smiled that day, but that promise never came true.
Now, seeing his face on the laptop, I instinctively dropped my guitar to the floor, out of frame, just in case.
"Hello, son," he said, with that firm but distant tone I hadn’t heard in months. "It’s been quite some time since we sent you to Willowmori. How are your studies?"
I swallowed. "Everything’s good."
"Good," he said, nodding slowly. "And how’s the medical program? Are you keeping up with your classes?"
"Yeah. It’s… challenging. But I’m managing."
"Managing," he repeated, almost like testing the word. "Your mother told me she saw you yesterday. She said you’ve grown."
"Yeah, she showed up early," I replied, forcing a smile. "It was… quite a surprise."
He gave a faint chuckle that didn’t sound real. "That’s your mother for you. Always impatient. She’s been worried about you, you know."
"Worried?"
He nodded. "About your focus. We sacrificed a lot to send you there, Noah. This opportunity, medicine, the exams, it’s not something everyone gets."
"I know," I said quietly.
"Then make sure you remember that," he continued. "Music won’t give you a stable future. It’s just a hobby, not a career. You understand, right?"
My throat tightened. "Yeah," I lied.
He smiled faintly, satisfied. "Good. That’s my boy. Just keep your priorities straight. One day you’ll thank us."
Silence filled the room like a weight pressing down on my chest. I could feel Minnie’s eyes on me, waiting for me to say something—anything. But all I could hear was the echo of his voice in my head.
After a few seconds, I leaned closer to the laptop and said, "Thanks, Dad. I’ll… keep that in mind."
"Good. Take care of yourself, son."
"You too."
And before he could say anything else, I clicked the laptop shut.
The sound of it closing was louder than it should’ve been.
I exhaled and rubbed my temples. Minnie didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.
I picked up my guitar and slung it over my shoulder. "I’ll be back later," I muttered, heading for the door.
I wasn’t angry. Just… tired.
Tired of pretending to be someone I wasn’t.Usually on weekends, I hang out with my friends. But this time, everyone was busy and that was a problem, yesterday I told her we’d meet tomorrow night. Night. Not today. Seriously, how stupid can I be?
It was 8:45 in the morning, and if I wanted to find her, I had to rely on something other than logic, I had to see from my heart. She could be anywhere. And if I just started playing my guitar in the streets, I’d look like some desperate street performer begging for coins.
Still, I went back to the old radio station, hoping maybe… she’d be there.
I strummed a few chords, waiting for something or anything.
But nothing.
Figures.
So I decided to wander around town instead.
The center was busier than usual, the smell of coffee, chatter, and seagulls overhead. That’s when I noticed something down the street: a stage being built by the beach. Workers were hauling speakers and lighting rigs, and fliers everywhere announced The Amadeus Academy Jury Performance.
Guess that’s where everyone would be in three weeks.
I started strumming softly as I walked. Maybe, just maybe, she’d hear me. Maybe I’d find her again around singing, smiling, lost in her own world.
And somehow, I was right.
There she was. Melody, humming to herself as she wandered between the shops, her dark hair swaying, her blue eyes bright with that dreamlike glow.
I smiled, ready to call out, until I realized how ridiculous I must look, chasing after thin air. To everyone else, I was just a guy running through the street with a guitar, reaching out to nothing.
And then, of course, fate decided to ruin the moment.
I bumped into someone I’d rather never see again.
Joe Fosuta.
If annoyance had a face, it’d be his.
We’d been rivals since the academy entrance exams. The judges couldn’t decide between us, so they made us take a test and of course I won. Ever since then, he’s treated me like I’d "stolen" his spot.
"Well, well," Joe said, smirking. "If it isn’t the prodigy himself. Out here busking already? Gave up on your mommies allowance and decided to beg for tips?"
"Morning, Joe," I said flatly, sidestepping him. My eyes were darting past the crowd, trying to catch another glimpse of her.
He scoffed. "What’s with that look? Lost your mind or something? Oh, wait - you always were kind of weird. Maybe the academy finally realized you’re just a fluke."
"Yeah, sure," I muttered, barely listening. I could hear her voice, faint, carried by the sea breeze.
Joe leaned forward, grinning. "You ignoring me now? Man, you really think you’re better than me, huh?"
"Not really," I said, eyes scanning the beach. And then, there. Near the water, by the half-built stage, there she was, Melody, watching the workers with that childlike fascination.
Without another word, I broke into a run.
"Hey! I’m talking to you—"
My guitar swung over my shoulder as I passed him, and — thud! — it accidentally smacked him right in the chest, sending him stumbling backward into a pile of trash bags.
"Ah— sorry!" I yelled, not stopping.
Behind me, I could hear Joe’s furious shouting echoing through the street.
"NOAH! YOU—!"
His voice faded with every step I took.
But I didn’t care.
Because ahead of me, by the sea, stood the girl whose song could quiet my entire world.I arrived at the beach, but the place was packed, families, students, vendors, all blending into a blur of sound and color. I scanned the crowd, searching, until finally… I saw her.
Melody.
She was standing near the edge of the sand, watching the waves with that same serene smile. But there were too many people between us, faces, noise, laughter, all in the way.
She was slipping further and further from sight.
I tried to push through, but it was useless. And then, out of nowhere, a small voice called out:
"Are you going to play a song?"
A little girl was looking up at me, her hand held by her mother.
I didn’t answer. Instead, I smiled faintly, adjusted the strap of my guitar, and let my fingers fall onto the strings.
The sound that came out wasn’t planned. It didn’t have words or rhythm, just emotion. A soft, melancholy melody that carried over the noise of the beach. It wasn’t perfect, it didn’t need to be. It was me with my confusion, my longing, my search for something I still didn’t fully understand.
This music had no lyrics, only feeling.
A call for meaning and a call for heart.
As I played, the crowd faded. The sound of the waves dimmed. The world around me seemed to slow.
And in that moment, only one person existed in my eyes.
Melody.
Her gaze met mine across the sea of people, and though we didn’t speak, I could feel it, that silent connection between us.
Two souls, bound by a song that didn’t need words.
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