Perfect Melody

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Perfect Melody Page 13

by Ava Danielle


  “Fair enough. Well, the symphony was invited to perform at a big concerto in Germany for Christmas, apparently one that thousands attend and it’s being broadcasted on television.”

  “Oh my gosh, really? That’s amazing, Elliot.” I assumed that would be a reaction my mother would give, but was unexpected for Melody to be so excited for me, “Congratulations,” she places her fork on the table and leans in to hug me.

  Having her in my arms, even if it’s just a small hug is so fucking hard. I don’t want to ever let her go and while I’m this close, I smell her lavender hair and breathe her in. Wishing I was her scarf wrapped around her and so close to her body I envy it, to be so lucky to always be in contact with her luscious body. Fuck. Get with it, Elliot.

  “That’s wonderful news,” both Mom and Grant congratulate me; I’m however, still on a Melody-touched-me high.

  “Thanks,” I mumble in between hugs.

  “So, tell us all about Los Angeles,” I try to divert the conversation.

  “It was fun,” she’s a little reserved, “we shot a video, collaborated on a few things, nothing too big.”

  “Are you kidding me? That is pretty big, Melody,” I’m sincere.

  Between us talking about our future plans our parents seem genuinely and equally excited for the each of us. We found our way to be happy. It might not be together, and it might not be easy, but career wise, we’re both finding our ways and moving forward. What more would parents want? And just because we couldn’t make it work, doesn’t make us incompetent human beings.

  Intense.

  Nerve-wracking.

  Shaky.

  Uncontrollable Butterflies.

  I’m on the back deck of Janine’s house sitting next to Elliot talking about our big plans for the future. I hate this feeling of pretending everything is great, when it’s anything but great. Yes, my career is taking off. Yes, I feel great about that part – that’s what I aimed for. But, I’m unhappy with my love life, because the person I’m dying to be with is sitting right next to me and I don’t have the guts to say or do anything about it. In fact, I want him to know that I’m not over him, not just yet, but I had decided it was best we don’t get back into a relationship, now I regret that decision. Truthfully, I wish he’d say something, but after so many attempts on his part, I’m sure that train has long gone passed.

  “It’s nice that we can sit and talk like this.”

  If only he knew that he’s what I’m thinking about, yet I don’t have a clue what exactly he said.

  “Uh huh,” I hum.

  “Were you even listening or are you still on your Los Angeles high?”

  “What? No! God no! It was fun, but that is definitely not a place I could live forever,” I start to remember all the craziness I witnessed in Los Angeles. The dirt. The people that seemed a little clueless. The bazillion homeless just lying on the streets, not under some bridges, but right there in plain sight. The smell of cars mixed with the heat did not make for a great combination.

  I don’t want to have these mindless conversations with him. I want to have the guts to tell him I still love him, I’ll probably never stop loving him. I don’t have much time for relationships with the busy schedule of future projects, but I do have time for him, I’ll always have time for Elliot. And knowing he’ll be in Germany soon and I’ll be here celebrating Christmas with my father and his mother doesn’t necessarily make me miss him any less. On the contrary, I’m not sure if I want to be with anyone else but him. Ugh. Love life sucks. This sucks. I should’ve never told him there wouldn’t be an Us. If I said otherwise now, he wouldn’t take me serious.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  “Do you need a ride back to the City?” I’m unsure how to answer the question Elliot just asked me as I’m sitting on the front porch of my father’s house enjoying a cup of coffee.

  “Um,” I stutter. If I do, I’ll be an hour next to him and I don’t know what we’d talk about.

  “Melody, it’ just a ride. It’s a yes or no question.”

  Debating whether to say yes or no, I sip on my coffee and nearly choke on it.

  “Are you okay?” he looks concerned coming towards me.

  “Yes, I just drank too fast. Sure. I’ll take a ride,” before he decides to badger me and get to the point I won’t be able to say no without a guilty conscience.

  “Perfect, I’ll be ready in a few minutes, just have to say my good byes and throw my bag in the car.”

  After saying bye to my dad and his mom, we sit in the car and while he’s driving off I look through the back window waving to our parents as they stand arm and arm seeing us off. It’s a pretty view and I notice a glimmer of love as they look at each other. I’m in awe at how well they love each other.

  “Our parents actually make a cute couple.”

  “I know, right?” he says as we head towards the interstate.

  “Do you think they’ll ever get married? Or is this just a perfect little relationship and nothing more?” I’m curious as to what he thinks.

  “I’ve thought about it. I actually wouldn’t mind. Your dad seems great and treats her right, she deserves that.”

  “Your mom is pretty great. You know, he’s never dated since my mom passed away, and never even had interest. When I was a teenager, I tried to hook him up with some of my friends’ moms, you know the divorcees, but he wasn’t having it. No one would ever be like my mother. No one would ever take her place. I guess after I moved out, he finally realized being lonely isn’t all that great,” I stare out thinking about my youth and growing up without a mother.

  “Did you ever wonder what your mother was like?”

  “Every day of my life,” I sigh.

  “Time to shift gears,” I’m glad he decided this wouldn’t be a great topic.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  I see his finger play with the radio dial changing songs.

  “Want me to plug in my Phone?”

  “Sure, find some good jams.”

  Walk on Water by Thirty Seconds To Mars starts to play and we’re both enjoying the words being serenaded, “Good song choice,” I nod my head and agree as I close my eyes and enjoy the ride and music, which is also a good way to not have to communicate with Elliot.

  An hour has passed as we start to make our way through all the traffic to our apartment building. We didn’t exchange many words although I would stare at him in the corner of my eye. His arm resting on the window and his right hand guiding the wheel on the road is a sight for sore eyes. I need him so badly but I blew the chance. Why would any man want someone that made it abundantly clear with a goodbye kiss nothing would ever become of them again? No one. That’s right.

  Fucking hard, that’s what it was sitting in the car next to Melody on the trip back to our apartments. My hands would twitch in need to be on her thigh. I could feel my crotch grow and would have to come up with something stupid to turn me right back off. So often I wanted to just kiss her, but I know how she feels and I learned to fucking respect women. My brain understands that, but my fucking heart and dick don’t. I wanted to stop on the side of the road and explain to her why we should be together, but since I’m a decent human being, I opted not to scare the fuck out of her. I promised her a ride, and wanted to show myself from a good side so maybe she’ll have something to think about, realize I’m one of the good guys.

  I don’t want anyone but fucking her.

  I don’t want to love anyone but her.

  I don’t want to kiss anyone but her.

  I don’t want to fuck and love anyone but her.

  I don’t want to hold anyone but her.

  I want to spend fucking forever with her.

  It’s extremely hard to pack for a trip you’re only half wanting to be part of. It’s great for the symphony. It’s great for my career. But it’s so far away. It’s so far from seeing Melody. And even if we’re not a couple, the fact I won’t be able to walk out of my door to perhaps run into her
makes it difficult. I know, I keep saying that. I know I keep wishing and dreaming. But I also know I have no chance. I’ve been friend zoned. It’s fucking wonderful. Actually, I don’t even know if you can call it friend zoned – we say hi periodically and everyone once in a while there’s a how are you, big fucking whoop.

  I play the piano with a sad tune humming the words, “Baby I need you. Baby, please don’t turn your love away. Baby, please make the darkness go away and help me find our sun.” If only I had the guts to say to her the words I sing to myself, “Baby, I need you in my life. Fuck Love.”

  Like a creep I stare through my peephole watching his apartment door. He’s leaving today. He’s leaving to be part of a tour in Germany and I’m left behind. Last night in bed I had an epiphany. I don’t know why. I don’t know how it happened and why I thought of it, but I think it’s time I make the first move, even if my chances have gone out of the window and he might be seeing someone new. I love him. I do. How I know? Every day since we’ve broken up, I hadn’t thought about anyone but him. Every song I play, I connect to him. Every tune I hear, I think of him. Every couple I see, I envision us. That’s love, right? When you’re head over heels for someone and think of none other than him? When all you want is to be wrapped up into his arms and feel safe only with him, that’s love, right? If you just want to laugh and talk about all your desires with him? It’s time I tell him.

  So, I wait… I wait for him to open his door and leave. I wait to make my sudden move, but I’m not sure how to even start what I want to say.

  “Don’t leave? Nah, that’s stupid. Elliot? Do you have a minute to talk? I want to tell you I still love you. That’s a good start,” I mumble the words as I stand looking through the peephole and still, nothing.

  My phone rings upsetting me to have to leave the door. It continues to ring and ring and ring and by the fifth ring, I realize they’re not going to hang up.

  “What?” I say annoyed.

  “Hey, you okay?” It’s Isabelle.

  “Yeah, just in the middle of something,” I walk back to the door.

  “I just wanted to say I talked to Elliot,” she nearly has me dropping my phone.

  “What? When?”

  “Just now, he’s at the airport.”

  “Airport? Now?”

  “Uh, yeah. I was ready to go through security to board my plane home and we talked for a minute.”

  “Fuck,” I’m scattered looking around my apartment wondering what I should do, “Isabelle, I have to go.”

  I hang up as quickly as I can and don’t even give a second thought to wishing her a safe trip. I pace in my apartment. What do I do? I’ve just lost any chance to tell him how I feel before he left. I’m kicking myself in the ass.

  It’s too late.

  The airport seems packed this time of year. I’ve never flown out of the country and had no idea where I was going, but somehow, I finagled my way through it. Sitting on the most uncomfortable chairs in the airport I stare out at the runway, watch the ground crew prepare for planes, and enjoy the fact I’m inside and not outdoors wrapped up in thick coats freezing my ass off.

  Thinking about everything that awaits me, I’m anxious to play at the orchestra. Not a big fan of the traditional Christmas songs, but it’s an experience. To see another country, meet other artists is an exciting chapter in my life.

  Hopefully though, I come back with a new feeling. A new and refreshed me ready to take on the world and get past my love for Melody and move forward with my life.

  “Elliot!” I hear screams of what sounds like my name but as I look around I see no one.

  “Elliot!” A female screams again.

  Get out of your own head, Elliot.

  “Ma’am, you can’t be here,” there’s commotion all over but I can’t see past the people huddled around watching something unfold.

  “I bought a ticket, I can be,” the female voice sounds very familiar.

  “No, but you bought a ticket for the wrong terminal, follow me,” the male voice says and the female voice no longer present.

  “What’s going on over there?” I ask the stranger next to me.

  “Oh, some woman thinking she’s on this flight, I don’t know. Women!” he rolls his eyes.

  “What did she look like?”

  “A woman, duh.”

  “No,” Jerk, “Was she blonde, brunette, long, short hair?”

  “What’s it matter? I think she had long brown curly hair, but I didn’t take a good look at her.”

  Could it be?

  “Ma’am, you can’t be here,” some elderly flight attendant takes me into his arms and tries to escort me.

  “Yes, I can, I bought a ticket,” I try to show him my ticket and realize it says Gate Five but I’m at Gate Seven.

  “No, but you bought a ticket for the wrong terminal, follow me, let’s get you squared away,” he says and I rely solely on him to get me to where I need to go.

  I decided, it was time to tell Elliot just how I felt. I couldn’t go any longer, knowing he would be away and anything could happen. As silly as it may sound, I feel like I’m close to him. I still have a fighting chance to be with him. I just hope he forgives me for taking this long to realize we’re meant to be.

  Following the young man to a booth to allow him to check the ticket and make sure I’m at the right gate, I look around in hopes to see Elliot. I know he must have heard me, maybe he chose to ignore me? If that’s the case, all this is for nothing.

  “Now boarding Gate Five to Berlin, Germany,” the intercom shouts and I bang on the table to get the flight attendants attention.

  “That’s where I have to be,” I shout at him to give me back the ticket.

  “No, you’re on the next plane, that one is overbooked,” he continues to push the keys on board and stare at a screen.

  “Listen, I’m not actually here to board any plane. I needed a ticket to get back here to stop the guy I love from getting on a plane without knowing how I felt about him. So, I need to go back,” I start to ease away to make my escape when I feel another attendant put a grip on me.

  “Let go,” I scream.

  “Listen, do you know how many people tell us this sad love story shit? Plenty. We know the drill and we’re fed up with it. The airport is not a place to confess your everlasting love for someone. Either you board the plane with the ticket you purchased or you leave the airport immediately.”

  “Let go!” My screams getting louder, “Elliot Harper. Can you hear me? Elliot?” I scream.

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to simmer down,” he pulls away nearly hurting my arm with his grip.

  “Elliot!” I scream, but I don’t see him, I don’t hear him.

  Silence.

  And I realize, it might be too late. I lost my chance.

  “Let her go,” I hear his voice from behind, “I’m Elliot Harper.”

  Afraid to turn around and look into his eyes I stand frozen. If he’s angry, this will be the end.

  “Melody?” his voice is stern.

  Slowly, I turn around, attempting to stare into his eyes, but only finding the floor beneath me.

  “Follow me,” he says as I trail his steps, “She’s with me,” he says to the attendant as he takes the ticket out of his hands.

  “What are you doing here?” he looks surprised to see me.

  “I, I, I came to say I love you,” I say the words slow and softly looking straight down at the floor.

  “You came to what?”

  “You heard me,” I whisper.

  “Melody,” he takes his finger and pulls my chin up locking our eyes, “Say the words again.”

  I stare straight into his golden brown eyes and bite my lip.

  “I love you,” I whisper not blinking or moving my eyes.

  His lips inch closer to mine, his hand placed on the back of my head, I feel his fingers grip my hair as his lips gently touch mine.

  The only words being exchanged are throu
gh a kiss. But suddenly this kiss feels like a goodbye kiss.

  “Last call, Elliot Harper,” the announcement brings me back to reality.

  “Shit,” I pull back, “you need to go.”

  “No,” he smiles.

  “No?”

  “No. I can’t let you go. Do you know how long I waited to hear you say that?”

  Our hands are so tight together I fear we might lose circulation. My heartbeat can’t seem to slow down, beating harder than it did when I raced here to catch him before he left. But now that we’re here, standing across from each other, I feel like fainting.

  “How long?” I ask.

  “Every day since our last kiss, every day before our last kiss, every day since the day I met you.”

  I smile. He smiles. But the moment he pulls me in for a hug, I knew I’d made the right decision to run to him, to finally let myself fall.

  “I craved you. I craved to say good night and give you a forehead kiss and to say that I adore you when you feel at your worst. I craved you in ways where I just wanted to be next to you do and say nothing, but to be in your presence. I craved you every single day since the day I heard you play the violin next door.”

  “That long?” I murmur listening to his heartbeat against my ear.

  “Do you know how hard it was to say goodbye to you? It took so much of me to not have my way with you even though you insisted it was over?”

  “I do.”

  He pulls me away from his chest to look at me, “I love you. I love you so fucking much. You can’t ever decide to leave me again; do you hear me?”

  I grin.

  “I’m serious.”

  I nod.

  He wipes the tears from my cheek, “You give me the kind of feelings people write novels about.”

  It feels like hours standing at the gate watching the people disappear. The doors to his plane closed. His plane pulling away. The lights going dim as we continue to stand frozen in time. He is the love of my life. The one I can’t ever be without again.

 

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