002 | Dream
Warnings: BI...POLARNESS...
Effects: WARM FUZZY FEELINGS ♥ -- followed by angsty WHY WORLD WHY upon awakening. Britney Spears can be playing in the background if you want.
♬
It wasn't Mozart's clone who approached his original. No, it was the original that approached the clone. "Approached" put it lightly. Clone Mozart had been idly playing at the piano when his original stormed into the room and threw himself at the seat.
"Oh, my clone! My clone! Genius of geniuses, only you who are above me! Give me the honor of playing a duet with you," his original begged.
Clone Mozart beamed at the response. His original acknowledged him! Ha, that useless idiot. Now that he was here to replace him, there truly was no need for him. But a duet, only his original was worthy for that position. Yes, worthy. Clone Mozart laughed though it sounded like there was poison on the tip of his tongue. "You shame yourself in front of me. Why, you're on the verge of tears! Hurry and pull up a chair."
All too eagerly, his original stumbled about the room and dragged a seat over. He plopped down like a child does and prepared himself to play the harmony. Fitting for his original, so Clone Mozart thought.
"I'll leave it to you to improvise with my lead," he said with an air of arrogance.
"Oh no," said his original, with a defeated look, "your skills are far beyond mine! It is you who now carries my name."
Clone Mozart smiled to himself. How obedient he was! This was bliss. This. His original matching his every move, like the world was bowing down to him. Everything melted around them, the furniture, the afternoon sunshine, all the meaningless humans and clones alike. The only things that needed to exist was this piano and the distinct resemblance of the same man split between a younger and older generation. When Mozart closed his eyes, nothing existed besides this one entity known as Mozart and this beautiful music. When was the last time he played with such honest joy?
His original suddenly stops with a screech of the piano. His clone halts as well, suddenly snapping his eyes open and turning to him. His original is no longer there. Neither is his seat. It is dark outside and he's all alone playing the piano in this room that's too big for just himself. The keys of the piano are cold.
♬
[Mozart awakens with a cold sweat. He scoffs and throws the Dreamberry against the wall. A horizontal view of him hugging his knees to his chest with his head hung low shows right before the feed ends.]