Lone Voice Finished

Well, it was only music, and Asher's problems were, unfortunately, buried deep, past many walls.
The lyrics struck chords with him that hadn't fully grasped until he was the one singing them. Until he could relate himself to Eliza and Alexander's loss, until he could put himself in their position.
The cruelty of fate's hands, the knowledge that your happiness could be stolen away in one fell swoop.
He and his mother, both, were familiar with this pain, but Asher wasn't so lucky as to see his father before his untimely death. It was only supposed to be a day-long trip to study muggle London when things went awry, and they didn't receive the news until his dad was three days in the dirt. Figuratively. His body was hardly recognizable, more porous than humanoid as a result of bullet holes. Terrorism was a nasty thing, but not so uncommon in the world these days.
He was only eight at the time, and was in the study, reading through a history book when the letter came in the hand of his pale faced mother, who'd wept and gathered her son into his arms. And to think that only a week ago, he was walking with them, with both parents, along the pier. It ate at both of them. They shared their pain. He protected her, from there on, taking the role of his father, and she did her part as a mother. Needless to say, he learned to be responsible, to educate himself, when he was a wee lad. They hadn't the funds for his mum to be the only one putting food in their cupboard.
Elisia Lundell barely let that boy out of the house. She was paranoid her child would be snatched up by death. So he never had much of a chance to make friends. He took his grief out in writing, in song, in the little vacations induced by adventure novels.
But it was only music, and he would not, could not, be so weak. Reality was cruel, and it was a possibility for someone to crush his fragile heart the moment he exposed it for what it truly was. He finishes the final verse with open, stinging eyes, watching the patter of tears to keys. "They are going through the unimaginable.."

Asher sang his way through the whole song, and Ami focused on making an acceptable pianist as she played along with his singing. There was no way she'd be able to say Asher was singing along with her playing with a straight face- he was an amazing singer, and his voice would be able to captivate even the most cold-hearted adults. In a way, he reminded her of Orpheus, of Ancient Greece- the son of the muse Calliope, he had a voice so sweet he could charm snakes and make willow trees weep. 

Ami paused, barely breathing as she blinked away tears, her voice catching in her throat as she slowly lifted her foot off the pedal, letting the rolled chord fade away. "Th-" Ami cleared her throat uncomfortably and tried again. "Asher, th- that was amazing. God, I don't think even Renée Elise Goldsberry herself could've done it better."

She stared down at her lap, hurriedly wiping the tearstains off her face. Biting her lip, she looked up again, knowing that she looked like a hot mess- emphasis on mess, not hot. "Any requests?" she asked quietly. "I'll see if I can play it... I don't know how good it'll be, though."

His chest was tight. Unwanted emotion was begging to surface. He takes a breather, shakily exhaling and slumping on his stool, forehead in his hands. Merlin, he didn't plan on this happening. Didn't expect to feel so homesick, and so alone in one day. Heck, he could have forgotten Ami was there, had she kept quiet. A unrecognizable flush washes over his freckled cheeks as she accolades him. He was used to the praise when it came from his mother, but coming from someone who wasn't family, it was so much more flattering. "Thank you..." He says, barely at a whisper, the color in his face fading steadily. With the sadness in his heart, was a pang of guilt. He could have offered a shoulder for her tears, but here he sat, like a coward, wallowing in his own self doubt. He nudges the troubling thoughts aside for a moment. What song could he ask for? What would shine light in this gloomy practice room? What would bring her hope, and help him assess his feelings? He has just the piece. "Do you know You Will Be Found?" It would make sense that she would. That was a stupid question--

"Do you know You Will Be Found?" Asher asked tentatively, still in the middle of the room, although now he was facing in her general direction. 

"You Will Be-" Ami broke off, nearly laughing- although, if she had laughed, it would've been extremely rude. Did she know it? Did she know it? Ha, she played it so often, Thomas liked to joke that it was her theme song- and in it's on way, it really was. "Yeah, um, yeah, I know it. Well, you'll be singing Evan's part, of course. You'd be crazy if you didn't- your voice is perfect. If I get my head out of the notes in time, I'll see what I can do about not screwing up all the other parts- I'm quite partial to Alana, but Jared's voice is in the same zone as her's, I suppose."

Ami shifted on the piano bench, rolling her wrists, tears completely gone. Don't screw this up, don't screw this up, was the repeated mantra in her head. She played the opening chords, going slowly, tentatively at first, but gradually going up to tempo with the song. She waited with bated breath, knowing that Asher was going to just absolutely kill this song.

Like a child, he inflated his cheeks, huffy on his part. He doesn't know why he bothers opening his mouth sometimes. He lets the air out soon as it's there, though. It was doing his face's structure no favors, whatsoever. Curse his youthful appearance. "I figured you would. I don't know why I asked. Silly of me." Another compliment almost ruddies his flesh again. So, he's a sucker for reverence. "W-Well, I- I think you're overestimating my voice, really, but... I wouldn't mind taking Evan's part." Ah, this doll. Someone, please, save him from interaction. He looks like a fool. An attractive fool, nonetheless. He'd do well to be in theatre when he was old enough for bigger roles. "You'd make a good Alana." Concedes the brunette, hurriedly adding, "--Based on the way you sound, that is. But then again, a singing voice can differ from one's speaking voi-" He just can't quit babbling. It's a nervous habit of his. She saves him from humiliation by starting the song, the notes clicking into place into his mind, and he automatically harmonizes with them, significantly less terrified and actually able to observe her playing while he belts out: "Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?"

"Have you ever felt like nobody was there? Have you ever felt forgotten in the middle of nowhere?"

Asher's voice sent shivers through Ami's spine- no words would be accurate enough to describe the sensation she was feeling. Maybe pure bliss would be able to come close, but really, there wasn't much else. She had nearly frozen in surprise (who knew an eleven-year-old's voice could be that deep?) when Asher started singing, but common sense kept her from doing so- instead, she continued playing with even more vigor, determined to not suck. Ami started to add subtle harmonies and harmonic octaves to her bass chords, making them sound deeper, fuller, and richer; and she added more flourish to the melodic higher notes. She was delighted to find that they still sounded okay with the song.

Ami gradually started to smile when Asher continued through the song, relishing the sweet sound of his voice echoing through the Rehearsal Room. One (only one) of her favorite songs from Dear Evan Hansen, she was proud to hear Asher singing it beautifully. "Have you seen this? Someone put a video of your speech online!" Ami exclaimed when it came time, trying to imitate the lisp Kristolyn Lloyd used whilst playing Alana.

"My speech?" Is the written response. He feels so... at peace, here, surrounded by music, one of those things that got him through the tough times. This song in particular, was a disruption from his toxic conscious. It was also a way of reaching out to her, where he could not in regular words. The aspect of vulnerability disturbed him, and that was one of the scariest things about intimacy with others, about commitment to friendships. He was afraid... to let someone in, and to be used by them, and end up hurt. Hurt was the last thing he needed. He's already cried himself to sleep in his dorm behind closed curtains more nights than he cares to admit. He already dreams about his father's last days with them on a regular basis. He's woken up a few mornings with puffy, red eyes and had to excuse himself with 'allergies'. Has to confront homesickness every time he lays down in a bed that wasn't the one he grew up on. He's having a really hard time, and he doesn't need more issues piled onto his heaping plate of self-doubt and self-deprecation. "When the dark comes crashing through, when you need a friend to carry you, when you're broken on the ground, you will be found." He wishes someone would find him under that smile he wears, as he tends to find others, to lift their spirits without a second thought as to how he feels. It gets exhausting when you're doing the heavy lifting, after a while. Shutting people out was a real chore-- but if that's the case, who is he to let past his barriers?

Ami looked up abruptly, her hands locking up and freezing when she heard the last line Asher sang. Something was off. The voice- his voice. It didn't crack, exactly, nor did it break- but he was emotionally attached to this song, and not in a positive way like Ami was. Something was wrong. At least, she thought so.

"Asher...?" Ami asked uncertainly, standing up. "A- are you okay?" Internally, there was half of her mind doing the Safety Dance and crowing, Ami, you rascal, rawr rawr go get 'em, tiger! Love is in the air! while the other half of her was staring in absolute disgust at Safety Dance Ami, and cautioning, Ami, turn back before it's too late! Stay in your shell! Be ANXIOUS! Be careful, you dumb, dumb girl. Stay away. This isn't your problem. 

Ami steadfastly ignored both of them, thinking, This IS my problem. I asked for requests, and I started playing the stupid song in the first place. It's my fault, and she walked over to Asher, staring at him in concern. Realizing that was probably a little weird (and most likely made him feel like an animal in a zoo), she backed up, standing a respectful distance away, her hands clasped behind her back.

The horror of the situation is a slap in the face to him. Had he sung with a woeful inflection? Had he done something to make her stop playing? His heart stopped beating, a visible chill travelling along his spine and forcing a stutter in his recitation of the chorus- like a broken record in a human's body. Silence, again. Silence was too common between them.
What Asher never accounted for, was the advancement of the pianist. Or her softly-spoken questions regarding his wellbeing. "I'm fine, really." He lied through his teeth. It wasn't like he wanted to be dishonest with her. It was the anxiety and his reserved nature doing the talking for him.
He's an awful liar. Between his lip being tugged between his teeth, and his white knuckles in his lap, it's an easy deduction. Holmes isn't needed for this one. The boy is sad.
"Thank you, though. For caring," He peels his gaze from the hardwood flooring order to meet her eye, "I think you're the first one here to care about me. That means a lot to me. Thanks." He repeats. Odd, how he dances around the original question.
Ami, formerly Michael who made an entrance, is indeed, an appealing character to him. She's kind, and they share interests, and most of all, she cares. Merlin, she cares. He'd be fibbing if he said he didn't want to comfort her earlier when she'd been crying. And now, more than then, he's awfully contrite. He hasn't done enough for her. Not nearly.

"I'm fine, really."

Ami immediately saw clear through Asher's lie. How many times had she been the one to utter that lie, blood dripping down her forearms and staining her sweaters? How many times had she pasted on a smile and lifted her chin up, pretending she wasn't dying inside? How many times had she repeated this to herself as she tried to sleep, how many times had she whispered this to herself while staring at her never-good-enough form in the mirror? No, this boy was not fine- there was no way. 

"Thank you, though. For caring." Asher lifted his gaze from the ground, staring Ami in the eye, luminous ocean meeting rich chocolate. Ami blinked slowly, raising an eyebrow. "I think you're the first one here to care about me. That means a lot to me. Thanks."

"Okay, I'm going to hug you right now, because that's the sweetest and yet, at the same time, the saddest thing everyone's ever said to me," Ami said decidedly. Safety Dance Ami got ridiculously amped up, squealing, shrieking, and straight up banshee-wailing while Anxiety Ami started yelling even louder, now jumping up and down and throwing stools around the room. "Are you okay with that? Because after that..." Ami trailed off, taking a deep breath. "You're going to tell me what the bloody hell set you off like that. You need to talk to someone, dude."