Domicile: 1st Floor (Living Room)
Click to viewRalph was still playing the tune when Charles, Jackie and Talbot entered, the piano echoing off the empty walls of so many empty rooms. Charles observed his two companions, reading their body language and facial expressions, then proceeded to close the door behind them. Jackie's expression was easier to read than Talbot's- she seemed to concentrate and collect herself, whereas he seemed to get more lost in private memories. Charles folded his arms and stood very still, waiting for a response he could use.
Elsewhere, another pair of ears heard the music and was also similarly affected, and a thousand eyes opened and stared- unblinking- into the past. It recalled a child who used to be seen & not heard- a well-mannered child who always respected the authority of its mother, was very intelligent, and loved to play out in the sun. This child related to music quite deeply, for he found it an excellent way to express his feelings & himself in ways speech never could. Now, after such a great silence, it seemed if he was speaking again.
Ralph, meanwhile, was submerged in intense thought. He remembered a child whose mother held him very close and touched him a lot, smiling as her fingers caressed his neck, shoulders, arms, chest, hips....
"No one ever found out... no one cared..."
Ralph shut his eyes and tried to focus on the music, but the stirring in his loins was undeniable. Some people associate a sensation with an event, others associate a scent with a person, others still associate a piece of music with an event with said person that changed the course of their life forever. Ralph wanted to focus on the music, but even as he sat uncomfortably on the bench, he could feel her arms around his shoulders- sliding over his chest, down his abdomen, pressing rather firmly on the bulge growing in his pants. She breathed heavily in his ear, then whispered, "I've got you now, don't I?" Her hand slipped past the waist, and he could feel her fingers on his skin. All the pain, all the expended effort, all the failed attempts, all the changes he'd endured- they had led to this moment in time. Each memory made his playing more intense, each note seemed to be greater in depth, pitch and volume to him now. All the blood, all the tears- it was for this moment, and it was now his conviction was strengthening. This is not a life to be lived in doubt, regardless of risk or hardship- this is a life for a certain type of man. He would not let this opportunity pass him by, along with those who'd mocked him in passing cars, throwing trash and insults at him. The time for change was here, and he would become the catalyst. After all, he thought, who better embodies chaos?