meraki

As he listened to the girl continue to explain how therapy was making her feel, Parker nodded along in understanding. Once she was finished speaking, he exhaled a sigh, before he spoke again. “First of all, you uh, you don’t need to feel bad about talking about this stuff, or feel like you’re dumping on me. I get it.” Parker said, flashing the girl a reassuring smile. “Second, you should just do whatever feels right for you. I uh, I know for me personally, there’s a girl here who I’ve told a whole hell of a lot more than I’ve told the therapists; and probably a hell of a lot more than I’ll ever tell them. That’s what’s worked for me. And you should just find what works for you too. Don’t force yourself to do something just because you’re supposed to" Once the girl changed the subject, and began questioning him about his music, while also offering suggestions for ways to make it easier for him, Parker chuckled lightly, while reaching up to adjust his rose tinted glasses. The girl talked a lot, there was no doubt, but Parker didn’t mind; in fact he found it to be a bit endearing, and her interest in him, flattering. “There uh, there is a piano here yeah. I was actually using it earlier. But I try not to play it past nine; just to avoid disturbing anyone who might be trying yo settle down for the night” He explained with a nod and a shrug of his shoulders. “And yeah, it is a bit harder to do it this way, but I don’t mind too much. Actually if I’m being honest, I kind of like doing it every once in awhile; it makes me feel like a real musician” He grinned. “But yeah, I guess I would have to say this is probably the way I spend more of my time than doing anything else. I mean, I do other things, but music has kind of always been my main focus. It’s also always been the main way I pay bills too though, so that might have something to do with it.” Chuckling and nodding his head, he then began to gather up the sheets all strewn out across the table and return them to their folder, deciding that he would give them another look before bed later that night. Once they were all neatly tucked into the folder again, he sighed before flashing the girl a smile. “So uh, so what about you; what would you say you spend more of your time doing than anything else?” He asked the girl curiously

“I’ve been hearing rumors about some upcoming karaoke night. I know, I know, I’m horrified too. At least I can promise that I for one will not be singing.”

“If that’s true, I’m singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ by my girl, Whitney Houston! Lord, please tell me it’s true. Also, you could team up with someone. Make them do the singing and you do backup dancing!”

Sheets of music all strewn about on the coffee table in front of him, Parker was reading them over, focusing intently to try hear the sounds in his head that would be made were he to play each of them on the piano, in order to determine if any of them would fit into the new piece he had started working on earlier that day. Each piece was little more than fragment, only kept to be referred to in situations like this where, if he could find one that would fit, he could use it to bridge the gap in a more complete piece.  He of course, would have preferred to just  actually play each part on the piano as he had done when he started this process a few hours prior, but seeing as it was getting to be late now, he had been forced to do the rest in his head. The concentration required to hear each sound without actually playing it was quite intensive, which was why, until the girl spoke, he hadn’t even realized she was there at all. Glancing up from the sheet he had been reading, he listened as the girl went on about the therapists , and found himself nodding his head in agreement with what she was saying. “I uh, I  would say, if that’s how you feel, then you shouldn’t tell them anything. Not if you honestly feel like, by talking to them, you’re only closing yourself in more” Parker said with a shake of his head. “The therapy here is supposed to help, but  what helps for some people might not work for others. And there’s no point to subjecting yourself to something that not only doesn’t work, but is making things worse for you. I think we’ve all been through enough here without making it worse for ourselves.”

Bo sighed, “I just constantly feel like I’m suffocating, you know? I really shouldn’t be dumping this on you. I just kinda feel like everything is this really big conspiracy theory. Granted, my life, has been much easier than some here. I can compose my hurt and sadness.. So why should I have to contront it?” Bo cleared her throat, and scooted closer to the edge of the couch, picking up a sheet of music, “Are you.. a composer? I’m sorry, stupid question. Is this like, classical stuff, or..?” Bo tilted her head to the side, “You’re writing in silence? There has got to be some other way! Is there no piano here in this house? Or...Or... What about Garage band. That Iphone app that helps create music. That would, at least sorta help, right?” Bo then, shifted her eyes around the room, laughing awkwardly for her lack of helping. The only thing Bo knew about music was how to move to it. That was the extent of her knowledge, “Do you do this all the time.. You know, write music? You could be famous, you know?”

Emmanuelle smiled back, getting caught up in the other girl’s excitement. “Okay, um, yeah. I can probably teach you a few things in return. I’m not the best or anything, but I can do a pretty mean foxtrot,” she chuckled. “I miss it a little, actually…”

“Well, heck, no one is the best. We all have different strengths and weaknesses, and that’s what makes dance so special. You can never forget the feeling it gives you. Oh my God, yes! You should teach me the foxtrot, and I’ll teach you some pointe. I took like, one hip-hop class, in the midst of being an angsty teenager, so I could teach you a bit of that, if you want” Bo grinned at the other girl, “I’m so excited. I’ve so been looking for a dance partner!”

“Very true!” Aleja smiled and then nodded. “That works for me.” He smiled.

“Also.. I’m very angry!” The girl feigned an angry look before speaking again, “Why, do you, Aleja, get the comfier bed? I am a small girl with big bed needs, okay?” The girl then froze in shock of how that sentence came out. Holding one hand up to the boy in defense, Bo’s face began to flush, “Oh god, that is not what I meant!”

“I think being in a place like this kind of does that to a person. I know it’s not like a mental place but thinking about why some people come here kind of makes you think that you know?” Fletcher shrugged although he knew he only added to the truth behind that thought. He turned his head once again to the person who still appeared to be ignoring them. “Well I’m Fletcher and this guy here looks an awful lot like a Henry. He had a long enjoyable life sitting on this coach listening to whatever top 40 crap he looks like he keeps on his phone. May he rest easy.” The boy teased. 

“I just feel nine hundred percent impaired, and tired, and just drained. But if I keep sleeping, I’ll probably become fossilized here soon, you know?” She smiled, “Fletcher, I think we should open up a funeral home. It looks like we have a natural talent for directing these things. I’m Bo by the way, but that bo-body’s business.” She turned to ‘Henry’ and sighed, “He was too posh for the original funeral march so ‘Death of a Bachelor’ should start playing soon. Also, we took the liberties to clear his browsing history, and posted all of the nude pictures his high school flames sent him. Man, such grace and class. God truly only picks the prettiest flowers first.”

Elijah stood behind the sofa, peering down at the girl when she spoke and nodding a bit, though not being entirely sure what she could be referring to specifically. In truth, he had been slowly accepting the fact that he wasn’t as damaged as anyone in the house. And while that had yet to take an affect on his behaviour, he had been spending less and less time festering in his own pity. “I mean, I figure that’s how it kinda feels to start, yeah.” He agreed, wondering for a moment if he was actually going to say the most hypocritical thing he possibly could and defend therapy, simply to be positive. “You’re bound to feel worse bringing up the emotions you’re trying to repress, I think. —And I mean, I dunno but I hear it gets better… maybe…”

Bo readjusted in the chair, turning to look up at him. The boy was attractive, which was apparent to anyone who came into contact with him. His face was perfectly chiseled and his eyelashes long and dark. She sighed slowly, “You’re right. I just feel like, I don’t know. Change... isn’t my favorite thing in the world. I, um, I don’t know. I came here to avoid my feelings, but now I feel like I should’ve packed them a suitcase too, because they’re here to stay... I just.. I’m too critical sometimes, I think.” She paused, “I’m sorry. Rambling is my thing.”

Aleja nodded. “It’s always good to be close to your siblings.” He said with a smile. “Step Up is a movie I’m always down to watch.”

Bo smiled, thinking of her brother, Austin, and her heart ached slightly for him. “Well, if ya can’t be close to them, who else could you be close to?” She smiled, “Great! I’ll check even the darkest corners of Netflix for the movie, and when you have a day off, we’ll make it a point to watch it!”

“Oh wow, that’s, um, that’s impressive.” Emmanuelle smiled, as flashbacks from the years of strict practice came back to her. She had been okay, but never particularly masterful. She kind of missed it, though. “Um, yeah. Yeah. That might be nice. I’m mostly used to ballroom, but I’m sure ballet would be helpful. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

“Not that impressive. My mum and I always thought it was cool. She was my biggest cheerleader!” She smiled sincerely, “Ballroom dancing? No way! That’s super cool! You have to teach me!” Her smile grin, and her nose crinkled in excitement, “Ballet and ballroom would be so beneficial for one another! I am so serious! I’m intrigued, for sure!”

Claire hadn’t even noticed that another person had come into the room; that’s how silent the other girl had been up until that point. However, when she finally did speak, Claire glanced up from her book, listening to what she was actually saying. She could only assume from what she was talking about that she had just left a therapy session, and once she was done, Claire gave a small shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t attend therapy sessions, so I wouldn’t really know” She admitted. “It works for some people, but I honestly think it just makes things worse for others. I think for some of us, the best way to move on from our pain, is to be out there, actually moving on and putting it behind us”

Bo nodded, “I didn’t see the ‘no therapy’ box on the application.” She cleared her throat, “But you’re right. Sometimes, therapy makes us grasp onto the things that hurt us, even tighter than we ever did before, hoping to maybe squeeze the life out of the hurt, all the while, like an angry boa constrictor, our pain and anguish wrench and squeeze at our innards, taking the good and manipulating it to all have a blood tint.” Bo frowned, “The things they ask, are too personal, and if I don’t keep those memories locked in my heart, I may lose them for good.” She shook her head, and pointed to the other girl’s lap, “What book are you reading?”

Aleja laughed. “My brother snores so I’m used to it.” He said. He thought for a moment and nodded. “Step Up sounds right.”

Bo smiled for a second, thinking of hr brother back home, “My brother is my best friend in the world... But he doesn’t snore.” A laugh bubbled from her lips. “Okay, first roommate goal, watch Step Up.”

“I have no idea if I snore or not.” Aleja admitted. He laughed. “If you snore, I’ll let you know.” He shook his head. “There’s no way you can get me into a tutu.” He told her.

“Oh goodness. Okay, we may have to invest in ear plugs, or nose plugs, one of the two.” She smiled before replying, “What? Are you saying tutus aren’t masculine? Okay, fine. You don’t have to wear one. But you could be like Channing Tatum in that one movie, where he dances and help a friend out. And you’d get to lift me and stuff, while I’m wearing a tutu, I might add.” She pondered over the movie for a second, “Step Up or something like that?”

“They’re not that hard.” Aleja shrugged. He looked at the girl and nodded. “Well the only time I’m really in the room is if I’m sleeping or it’s my day off.” He told her. “Ballet is cool.” He said with a nod. “Not something I could ever do.”

“Oh, God! Please tell me you don’t snore!” Bo groaned, and her face flushed, “What if I snore? I’m so sorry.” She quickly composed herself, despite the red coloring her cheeks. “Oh, I’m sure you could do ballet, and I think the girls would all flock at the sight of you in a tutu. If you were interested, I do need a rehearsal buddy, someone to just do the lifts and such. I don’t know, just an idea, and then you could show me how to check someone breaks, or whatever.”