Chapter 19: Words of Hate
I still had a few hours to kill before the rehearsal, so I went home and took a long shower, trying to wash out the smell of Zero's hideout from my hair. I managed to get rid of it, but the memory of scorched cement still followed me, a disturbing feeling somewhere on the periphery of my mind.
Other than that, the only thing that got hurt was my jeans. I managed to tear them sometime during the night, probably while hanging from the museum's fence. My jacket was quite dirty, too, but it was easily remedied by some water and soap. Surprisingly, I had no bruises despite our scuffle with the locals, which was good, because I didn't want to explain to anyone how I got them.
I made myself dinner and ate it in silence, thinking over the plans we made with Mickey. They were quite simple: convince Ted to invite me to the party, find Tanya Duncan, ask her about Zero. And yet, I had a heavy feeling in my chest that made the food taste like rubber. I didn't want to manipulate Ted into inviting me. I didn't want any of them connected to that part of my life in any way, at all. The idea of all that dirt leaving a spot on Claire or Nelly or Dylan, or Ted, made me sick.
Still, I had no choice. Or rather, I've already made the choice, and I didn't like it.
I practiced on Claire's piano, learning all its kinks and capabilities. It was a magnificent instrument, more versatile and complex than I could imagine. There was too much to learn, but by the time I needed to leave, I got the feeling that I'm starting to grasp its core principles. Infinite freedom of expression, as much overwhelming as it was awesome. I could do so much, in time. My fingers felt more capable, too. I was still far away from being as proficient as I once was, but it was all starting to return to me.
I walked to the campus, recollecting Lady Despair and its melody. I already saw where I was not quite on point during the last rehearsal, and how I could improve. Or maybe even change the sound entirely, making it more techno, more surreal. I'll have to discuss this with the guys.
I was inside the lecture building and heading for the music hall when someone called out my name.
'Hey, Matt.'
I looked up, tearing myself from the music, and saw Claire.
She looked extra pretty tonight, wearing a short skirt and wool thigh highs. Her usual heavy metal t-shirt was replaced with a black tank top, and I guess she was wearing make-up, too, masterfully applied to be almost unnoticeable. I almost gulped, and then took a deep breath instead.
'Hey.'