Third week of doing this Yeah Write linkup and I’ve been having such an amazing time. Everybody has been so supportive and kind, and I appreciate every single comment and piece of constructive criticism/advice.
Today’s post has a male character for once, named Russell because I just watched a movie with a character named Russell and I’m abysmal at names. TW for mentions of homophobia.
The Pianist and the Photographer
The music washes over him like the waves of the ocean, faint at first but growing louder as he walks toward the park. There are always musicians in Ashcreek Square on sunny afternoons, but rarely on overcast days like this one.
And certainly not a classical pianist.
Russell stops in his tracks at the edge of the park, ignoring the bicyclist who has to swerve around him and the rude hand gesture that follows. Twenty yards away, in the middle of the square, sits a grand piano. Perched on the stool is a young man a few five years his junior. He wears a T-shirt and khaki pants and looks for all the world like an ordinary hipster who wandered out from the nearest Starbucks…if it weren’t for the otherworldly music flowing from his fingers. He plays like the secrets of the universe are captured within him and fighting to get out.
Russell finally gets enough presence of mind to step out of the bike lane. His fingers are already sliding around his camera, unclasping the lens, adjusting the focus. But even if he had the pianist’s permission, he couldn’t capture this in a photograph. The way the young man leans in to the forte, closes his eyes during the high notes, breathes the piece through his body…it’s like his DNA is woven of the musical clef.
HIs phone buzzes in his pocket. Probably his boss calling to clarify something for the photography assignment he’s on. No doubt he’ll hear an earful later about ignoring his call, but for now Russell doesn’t care.
He takes a halting step forward but can’t bring himself to go any closer. All around the pianist people are walking past, too busy to stop and witness the performance. A few pause for a moment to nod in appreciation before they continue their fast-paced stride across the square. One woman slips a folded dollar bill into the cavern of the grand piano. The pianist doesn’t look up. As she turns away, the sharp angle of her jawbone and her dark brown hair makes Russell think for a moment that he’s looking at his mother. But no, her hair is cut in a bob, a far cry from his mother’s long curls, and she’s wearing round glasses that his mother never needed.
When he first left home all those years ago, he saw her everywhere: the bartender who served the beer he drowned his sorrows in, a woman at the gay club in downtown LA, his next-door neighbor in their crappy apartment complex who asked him, brows furrowed in concern, if he was doing okay. It took his boyfriend pouring all his beer down the bathroom sink for him to realize that things had gotten out of control. But it took longer to get his life back on track. Some days, he still doesn’t think he’s there. Because staring at this beautiful man at the piano fills his gut with a hot, sickening guilt that feels all too familiar. Guilt, roiling and churning in his stomach, because of the flutters of excitement dancing through his body at the sight of this musician.
Didn’t he spend his entire teenage years praying for these feelings to go away? Crying himself to sleep because he just wanted to belong, knowing in his bones that he would never find someone to love him back? He tries not to think of the day he broke down and told his mother, but the thoughts come unbidden just like they always do when he sees an attractive man. The bags of his belongings thrown out the garage door. His key no longer fitting the lock. His mother’s phone going to voicemail when he called. His childhood ended that day. And even though he’s made a life for himself, he’s still alone.
He drops to one knee, frames the pianist, and snaps a picture. The only way he’ll ever view people is from a distance.
At that very moment, the pianist releases the last note and exhales a long breath. Russell finds himself holding his breath as the young man looks his way, takes in his camera, and meets his eyes. Maybe it’s the way his brown eyes search Russell’s mind, or the way he swipes his hair out of his eyes, but it prompts Russell to take a step closer.
Just one step. But that’s all he needs to do. The pianist rises from the bench and comes to meet him.
749 words
Photo prompt this week is by gratisography
Emotion to incorporate this week was “shame”
Really nice integration of the photo, Claire. You created some good tension with flashbacks. He’s obviously still dealing with his sexuality. I wanted the two men to have a bit more interaction before the approach. I think because Russell is so insecure I doubt he’d be sending off “Come talk to me” vibes. You know? Could one of them smile or wave? Maybe end with Russell’s thoughts as the piano player is stepping toward him?
Hello! I really like how your descriptions pulled me into the story, like I was entering the photo! Russell’s pain, desire and hesitation were all touchingly clear. I could feel a conflict between Russell today and Russell as a child, where the enemy was his mother, but wasn’t sure how the conflict was resolved– It seemed very lucky that the pianist noticed Russell and felt like approaching him (though I was happy for Russell!). I think a hint of maybe their eyes meeting earlier and feeling a spark might help (so we get a sense of their mutual presence/attraction being acknowledged, then Russell is also fighting his low self-esteem on top of his fear of rejection– He can’t believe what’s happening to him because of his past)? Great job and thanks for sharing!
I enjoyed the description of the pianist. This story was a nice mix of both “showing” and “telling.” I like how it ends on a note of hope. The poetic touches such as “it’s like his DNA is woven of the musical clef” were also nice.
I really enjoyed how you’ve incorporated the prompts in this piece. The descriptions are great as is the manner in which you’ve conveyed the emotions. I really felt for Russell. I think like the previous comments mention, maybe a bit more to indicate some kind of interaction between the pianist and Russell would be nice. You could consider making this a longer piece