Song of the Chapter: This Feeling - Noisestorm (Electro)

(Evee's POV)

"So ... how'd it go?"

Noisestorm looks up at my question, confused for a second. "Oh? That? Um ... pretty well, actually. Thanks for your help."

We're sitting in the kitchen of a house - Laura says that it's her grandmother's friend's sister's house or something complicated like that. Whatever the relationship, it's a safe place to stay for a day or two, at least until things cool down with the MI and whoever Jensen's working with. I'm surprised with all this music stuff here. I would have expected the owner to take down and hide away all of this stuff. I guess the MI didn't have the heart to arrest a eighty-something year old grandma.

Noisestorm pauses his doodling to rub his arm and wince. "What happened?" I ask.

"I earned a hit that's gonna stay with me until my grandkids can feel it," he mutters, his voice holding a teasing tone. "At least, that's what Phantom said."

"I thought you said everything went well?"

"It did - until he started joking with me and I went off on a song-title-pun-rant. Then he punched me." He glances up at me. "Do you get it? It's even funnier if you get it."

"Get what?"

"The joke ... you know, hitting me ... okay, never mind. It's a guy thing." He chuckles a little and changes the subject. "Don't ever become Phantom's enemy, you got it? He can smile like a kitten one moment and beat you up the next, and you'll never see it coming."

"Got it," I laugh. I yawn and then say, "If you don't mind, I'm going to go find a room to sleep in. I'm still exhausted."

"Go ahead," he says, pausing his art once more to look up and smile. "Goodnight, Evee."

I go downstairs into the basement to find a room that's not occupied by boys. I'm glad they're not all here, or else I probably wouldn't be able to find a place.

I pause as I pass a closed door and hear something - music, piano music, to be exact. I lean against the door and listen. Whoever-it-is is playing one of my favorite sonatinas, which is the only reason I know its name. It's Kabalevsky's Op. 13 No. 1. He finishes the piece with a bang rather than a gentle touch, like I was always taught. I like it better loud. He moves on to the third movement, but only plays a few measures before stopping, like he forgot how it goes. He changes pieces and plays Waterfall instead, by John Schmitt. I bet everyone would recognize that song, even if they don't know the name. I expect him to play it softer, because after all, music is still forbidden, but he plays it as loud as it's supposed to go. After he's finished with that, he plays another modern piece I don't recognize, but still enjoy, and then plays a couple chords of a song I heard Tristam singing once ... though I forgot the name. Then, he switches again and plays a sort of repetitive song I assume is another EDM song from the label. The pianist plays the last chord, the notes lingering in the air, and I start to open the door to tell him how amazing that was.

The door opens seemingly by itself and I go down with a squeal, falling right at Phantom's feet.

"Oh ... hey ... " he says awkwardly.

I scramble back up before he can help me. "Hi. Uh ... that was beautiful. All of it."

His cheeks turn pink. "Thanks," he mumbles.

"How long have you been playing?"

"Since I was four ... I had to quit when I was about fourteen. My sister couldn't pay for the lessons that long after my parents' death."

"Oh ... I'm sorry." My gaze moves to stare at the piano in the dark room. He was playing with the lights off.

He shrugs. "That's okay, I guess. I'd play at my aunt's house sometimes. I lost some of my skill, but I kept most of it in my fingers." He catches my longing look and says, "So ... you played, too?"

"Hopefully, I still do." I wander into the room and sit down on the bench, resting my fingers on the keys. I want to play, but I don't know what, and I don't really want Phantom listening. I don't have the heart to tell him to leave, especially after what happened to him only a few hours ago, so I take a deep breath and begin to play. It has a smooth, clear melody, and shimmers when I play it, like a reflection pond. I quickly lose myself in the music, letting it flow through me.

When I'm finished, Phantom doesn't say anything at first. We both let the notes echo until they're followed by silence - that wonderful silence right after a piece when you're breathing hard and your heart's beating and you can't stop yourself from smiling. Playing the violin is one thing. The piano has more potential, I think, more ways to play, more harmonies.

"Teach me to do that," he whispers in awe.

"Teach you?" I'm taken by surprise. I've never been a good teacher. I usually don't have the patience to correct all the mistakes, and teaching someone who's my age or older ... "I don't know," I mutter.

"Please?" he begs, giving me a shy smile.

I groan a little. "Why do you have to give me that look? It's too cute to refuse."

"Well, if I've been deemed 'cute' enough, then will you?"

"Alright, alright. Stop looking at me with those eyes. Sit down." I get up and he takes my spot on the bench. "I don't know where to start, so why don't you play me that modern one ... The one after Waterfall. We'll work on that one."

"I like this one," he says softly, and I can hear a younger, carefree boy in him. "It's called Impressions on Yellow."

He starts to play and I have to stop him immediately. "Your wrists could hit the floor if you tried hard enough,"  I say. "Lift them up and don't let your fingers be squished. Flat. Whatever. Round them out."

"Like this?"

"No, I'll show you. Pretend you're holding a ball in your hand. No ... no ... here, put your hand on mine and you can feel it."

The lesson goes long, and by the time we're finished, the sun's rising, its morning rays slipping through the cracks in the blinds. I'm exhausted, barely able to keep my eyes open, but Phantom is wide awake and grinning excitedly. He improved a lot, once we'd reminded his fingers and arms and wrists how to play correctly. I'm surprised that he was able to remember the pieces and hand positions so well. If what he said was true, he hasn't taken lessons for three years and hasn't played for a year and a half. It's almost unnatural, how well he remembers.

"Thank you so much," he says. "You don't know how much I appreciate that, especially after ... you know ... " He chuckles nervously. "And thanks for helping Noisestorm, too. I think he was more nervous about that than I was."

"Of course," I say, yawning. I watch him for a minute and then say, "You really love him, don't you?"

He hesitates, playing with the bracelet around his wrist. "I really love him. I didn't realize it until now."

"I felt the same way with Rogue. I didn't realize I loved him until ... everything happened so fast." I pause, letting my fingers rub over my necklace. I watch Phantom visibly relax and hear him sigh softly in relief.

"I thought you'd all think I was crazy, or stupid, or wrong, or treat me differently, or make fun of me ... " he whispers. "But you've all still ... I don't know, it's only the first night and I've only told Tristam and Braken, but they both took it as well as you two did. I'm glad I finally have a place to call home." His gaze lingers on the piano and he smiles. The little sunshine rays play across his face, shining almost as brightly as his blue green eyes. There's a lot we don't know about him, I realize, even those who knew him before. Many of the artists didn't even know him before this mess started. "I think you should get some sleep," he says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"You too," I say, standing up and almost falling over.

"Thanks again for everything." His smile widens and he sits up straighter, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

"Any time." I walk to the door, but pause. "I know I haven't been really talkative before now ... sorry about that."

He just laughs. "Some day, I will understand the ways of the introvert. Today is not that day."

"Hey, no worries. I'm stuck in the middle somewhere. I don't even understand. Anyway, see you in the morning ... or in a couple hours, since technically it is the morning."

I find a room and crash, waking up again sometime around noon. I get up, notice that Laura found me and is still asleep, and quietly go find a bathroom. I brush out my hair with my fingers, since I feel guilty about digging through the drawers of someone else's house.

I wander upstairs after making myself presentable and find Aero Chord in the kitchen. I'm surprised, since I didn't think he'd show up, and also since he looks so awkward trying to keep his wings from knocking anything over. It seems like they're a lot bigger in the confined space.

"Where's Au5?" I ask softly, noticing his worried expression.

"They took him upstairs," he grumbles. "Wouldn't let me follow them."

"They?"

"Danyka, Monstercat, Fij."

"Fij is here?"

"Yeah, and Stephen Walking, Hellberg, and Karma Fields. Stay away from Karma if you value your sanity. She's more than insane."

"How is Au doing?"

"Not good." Aero shakes his head and sighs. "We did all we could for him, wrapped him up, removed the bullet ... " We both shudder at that. "I don't know how he's still alive. He won't stop bleeding. It's all over ... "

"I'm so sorry." I sit down at the table and sigh. "I wish that never happened."

"What's done is done," he says softly. "He won't stop saying that."

Someone nearly flies down the stairs, slamming into the front door. He runs around the corner and into the kitchen, someone else right behind him.

"Don't let Leo make pancakes!" Braken yelps.

"He'll make ... " Nitro pauses for dramatic effect and drops to a whisper. "Whole grain."

"Oh no, what ever will we do?" I say sarcastically.

"Have you ever eaten whole grain pancakes?" Nitro demands.

"And if you have, you've never had Leo's." Braken shivers dramatically, and then sits down next to me at the table, smiling a little. "Hullo, Eveelyn."

"H-hi." I smile nervously back, suddenly reminded of last night - how he almost killed Rogue. I remember the terrifying rage in his deep blue eyes, the anger that's now hidden by childlike playfulness.

"Are you okay?" he asks, tilting his head a little to the left. I notice that he's wearing his scarf again, though now it's been washed and is still a little damp.

"Yeah. I'm fine." I shake my head and grin at him. "You?"

"Better."

A loud thump is heard from upstairs, followed by a yelp of, "GAH!" All four of us turn to look, and I can hear Tristam loudly grumbling as he hauls himself down the stairs. "I just want my freakin' pancakes, Braken. Come on - " He swears with a yell of pain, and then continues grumbling, gradually raising his voice. "Hey, someone wanna help me?"

"You can walk," Braken calls with a shrug.

"I'VE BEEN SHOT IN THE LEG. SOMEONE HELP ME DOWN THE FRICKIN' STAIRS."

Nobody moves.

Finally, after plenty of curses and yelps, Tristam drags himself, heavily limping, into the kitchen. His leg has been bandaged correctly, and doesn't look nearly as bad now that he's not bleeding through it. "Braken," he says darkly, trying to catch his breath.

"Yes?" his friend says sweetly.

"I. Hate. You."

Braken just gives him an adorable smile and carefully stands up. I watch the two with amusement as they both shoot looks at each other. I like this new side of Braken - this playful, friendly side that isn't isolated and depressed, or terrifying and mysterious.

"You know what - " Tristam begins, and then cuts off and curses at him in French. I don't know what he said, but I pick out a couple words, none of which make sense. Something about a horse, I think ...

Braken starts to laugh, but it turns into a shriek as Tristam lunges at him, letting out a yelp of pain himself. I squeak, too, because somehow, Braken ended up around the table and Tristam is sprawled across my lap. He looks up at me, gives me a bright smile, and says, "Good morning, m'lady." Before I can say anything, he scrambles off of me, hopping on one foot to try and avoid the pain. He goes after Braken, cursing in French again.

Nitro and I laugh at them as they go, Tristam cursing and limping and hopping, and Braken giggling like a little kid, always one step ahead. He suddenly starts to sing in a purposefully off-key voice. "I PUSHED YOU AWAY," he yells, more than sings, and I burst out laughing again. "IT'S TOO LATE TO COME BACK NOW. I'M GONNA CLOSE THE DOOR TO MY HEART - ooh, sing the French part, Leo."

"The only thing I'm doing in French is swearing at you," Tristam growls.

"Why not just say it in English?" Braken asks, ducking to avoid a swipe that probably could have taken his head off if Tristam had wanted.

"Because the lady over there probably doesn't want to hear what I want to say!"

"Did you hear that?" Nitro says, poking my arm. "He called you a lady." I snort through my nose on accident, definitely proving his point.

Tristam finally grabs Braken's scarf, yanking him so he can't run away. I'm a little concerned about what's going to happen next, but Tristam pokes Braken's side and then squeezes, tickling him.

Braken screams loud enough to wake the rest of the house - and probably the neighborhood, to be honest - and collapses on the floor, trying to curl up and protect himself. Tristam kneels next to him, still holding him in place and tickling him mercilessly. "Don't - Stop it! Stop it stop it stop it - " Braken gasps out in between bursts of laughter and helpless screams.

"What is it? Did you say 'don't stop it'?"

"LEANDRE - "

Tristam just laughs, flips his friend over onto his stomach, and sits on his back, dropping down with a thump.

"Oof - " Braken gasps out, trying to catch his breath. He takes a deep breath, trying to say something, and then takes another, and another. Then he tries to lift himself up and tip Tristam over, but he can't do it. He takes another breath and I jump in surprise as he screams, "LEO, GET OFF ME, YA FAT WALRUS!!"

Aero snorts, his equivalent of a laugh. Tristam just pats Braken's head with both hands and smiles. "Shh, little muffin child," he whispers.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"Alright, who's getting murdered?" Noisestorm grumbles, coming down the stairs and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

I laugh again, feeling that even through all this, all the injuries and the pain, today's going to be a good day.