I know it sounds foolish; but I encountered it in a dream. The sounds that strum from the guitar, ever so beautiful. She had skin black as the void of space and in her you could see planets, stars, nebulas. She stops playing and touch my face, her milky white eyes bright like distant stars stare into mine. Her hand soft like silk to the touch, her breath cold and yet warm like space followed by a warm wave from the sun. The awestruck look on my face hard to conceal.
Her ethereal voice calls to me, "you wish to be able to strum sounds as beautiful as this, don't you?"
I nod, excitedly explain, "I love the guitar! Music is, well everything to me." He sighs, "too bad this is just a dream."
She has a slight chuckle before she explains, "a dream where you reached me; our souls crossing paths. If you don't believe me; I'll give you a book, when you awake the book should be in your arms."
I hadn't known why yet but had to ask, "why are you giving me this?" Her smile stretches across her face.
She says in a motherly tone, "anyone who can cross the barrier to me; is worthy of my help for music." It was only a moment, she kissed my left cheek; waking up in cold sweat. Besides my music sheets and a pen; something is on my cheek, run over to the bathroom and notice the purple sparkle that shows the left behind mark of a lipstick mark. I go back into my bedroom and notice a black bound book with two quarter notes. That through the book notice details denoting how to make the guitar she had.
The details being, "draw the stars above that you've seen in your soul. Then apply blood, sweat and tears; it cannot be yours." A marker nearby drawing the symbols. I do my usual routine; practice different songs, brush my teeth, shower and dig through what little I have in my fridge. The question swims in my mind, "how am I going to get the three?" After meeting up with my bandmates; Millia our lead singer, and Thomas our drummer.
We played our hearts out during practice. After practice we got ready for some smaller gigs. We played in a bar; everything was going good with us doing our usual routine until two gentlemen got heated in the bar. They walked away and cooled off from one another. After hearing about what the fight was about, something about the two seeing the same woman. I found this to be a good opportunity to make my move while our singer deals with the, aunt flow problem downstairs. The sliding and weaseling my way to the hot head who tried to start the fight, I sit down next to him.
The hot head says, "your song was shit; though your lady friend up there. Is she single?"
I tell him, "she has a boyfriend; Drake, big muscular guy." He slowly nods. Then inform him, "you know; the guy over there was talking about how he was going to fuck your girl again. Emily, was it?" He got up from the barstool; towering over me, patting my shoulder and walked over to the guy; punching him in the face, beating on him. On one hand I feel bad for them; on the other hand, two cheaters beating each other makes me feel less bad. After they're both thrown out I wipe up some of the blood, placing it my pocket for the paper towel. We finish up the gig and later we leave in a white van.
Millia happily chirps, "that was great! I can tell the crowd really loved it!" One part of me wanted to ruin the fun for her; but the other part of me didn't have the heart to do so. Once I'm dropped off at home, I get to work with preparing the first part of the ritual with smearing blood over my guitar and saying the chant. They're not even words; just symbols and yet somehow my mind can understand them but the words come out gibberish to me. I can't even remember the words I've said or spoken. Just a minor panic attack and state of insanity. However once I finish the guitar becomes purely black, black as space itself. The strum of the strings and I can feel the beautiful empty vast expanse that feels like something on the other side grabbing hold; it's strange to look back on this feeling but the mental equivalent to a bridge, a shared experience, empathy in a sense. A comforting feeling that holds me and never wants to let go.
Had I known what my actions would cause, I never would've started but once this far; I chose to keep going. It may sound foolish but I'm a lonely person and this filled me with a sense of comfort and purpose I've never felt before. After making dinner then practicing on my guitar until I drift off to sleep to come to in the dream world, to see her again playing away but this time bit faded and smaller. With concern in my voice, "what's happening?"
She sighs, "I'm afraid I only have two more days left; two more days until our connection fades. Universes and plants moving too far a part. I'm lucky it's going to last this long. I must confess; you're not the first nor last soul I've connected with." A part of me filled with dread at this thought, the thought of never being able to hear or see the fruits of my labor with the guitar let alone her.
She holds me in close; she says in a motherly tone, "good job so far; I'm proud of what you were able to do so far."
I sigh, "I don't know how I'm going to get the tears; the sweat should be the easiest."
She gestures at a portal showing Millia to say, "you could show her something that makes her hurt; something that makes her sad."
I feel uneasy to say, "you couldn't mean."
She answers, "Millia's dad is in the hospital. You could get her to cry."
An uneasiness in my voice, "that's my friend; I just can't."
She kissed me and I felt as if everything that or is unholy doesn't matter; that the sway she had over me. The loneliness, the hurt, all of my pain didn't matter. Every moment with her was just another moment I was put on strings, the stars from her body puppeteering me to her whim, I was none the wiser when with her though.
I assure her, "I'll do it." After that we talked about our favorite bands, she speaks of her favorite bands from earth and realize our music taste are quite similar. To have someone that close feel that genuine like you could tell the world everything. Though she was much more reserved in telling me of her place, where she came from. If anything; she kept me mostly doing the talking until I had to wake up. The usual routine of trying to get to practice, this time however she didn't show up. I hear a voice, telling me where to go; I look down to see my black guitar showing me where she is.
Thomas, he looked at me strangely as I tried to hide my guitar. He saw what was on it; my heart sank until he commented, "why did you paint it black? Like a deep black." A sigh of relief washed over me as I showed it off with me strumming, his eyes couldn't leave my instrument. He seemed to be in a trance and as if a bit of his soul left his body. At that point; I had stopped playing. Then feeling a pain shoot through my head from stopping like I'd been hit upside the head. That I had ignored this feeling with trying to snap Thomas out of his trance.
I shout, "Thomas!" He snaps from his daze, then I question him, "where is Millia?" He shrugs. Then I left, heading to where the guitar is showing me. A sigh wash over me, "look; whatever you were doing to him, I can feel it. Alright? So just... not him, anyone but him. Though; maybe I'm just being paranoid." Getting there by foot while traveling to the hospital. The shady part of town taking a shortcut; though not of my own doing, anything that'd been my fault is dragged along more than anything. As the sun comes down and my path towards the place comes center stage with me being able to see it not too far from where I am. A big burly black man with a knife points it at my face and his buddy at his side, a scrawny skinny pale pasty guy that looks strung out on every substance known to man.
The black man backs, "you, give me your wallet and him the guitar! Now!" At this moment frozen, until the muse came through. A weaponized sound as the angelic shredding of the guitar played, defying the fact it's not even plugged into an amp but as if it was with the sound shooting out of my guitar, from the deep black abyss itself. The two look as if they're under my spell and every step, every move to feel them in my hands. At first it was calm, just me playing away until the two started to brawl, going for one another's eyes and the bloody mess it was making. These two now at one another's throat and enthralled by rage. The blood curdling screams and war cries fly out with them battling it out as the music keeps going until they're no more.
On some level, this music had been played before and I hadn't known where until my thoughts come crawling out; they were unfinished pieces of music I'd been working on. The mundane and broken made ethereal. This left dread in my soul on one hand, weaponized my failed creations but on the other; making beauty unlike anything I've ever seen, a symbiotic relationship between a man and his goddess. I can't hear, I can feel her voice echo across the guitar.
She speaks, "now that you know my intent; you know where this is going, do you dare continue forth? I'm sorry for having deceived you." All of you reading this may hate me for what I'd chosen but we continued, she means everything to me. We barely know one another true but in due time it's a worthwhile bond. You may say she is using me and to that one must ask, "so what?" At least it's a relationship where I'm getting something out of it. Now steadfast instead of working against her, every step feeling within my control. The strings of space fade from my wrist with a brisk walk to a run with full on sprinting up to the receptionist.
I plead, "may I know where Mr. Star is? I'm family."
She asks, "can I see some ID? Mr. Star didn't say he had any other visitors coming." So I'd started playing the guitar, sure enough she let me pass.
The receptionist says, "Room 406; you can't miss it." A simple nod to her; then briskly get there. Millia outside the room, trying to keep a brave face. Millia looked shocked to see me at first then confused and finally landed on happy with her wrapping both arms around me.
Millia softly speaks, "I am so glad you're here! I need someone just right now. I know, I hadn't shown up to the scheduled practice today but my uncle is dying and... I'm just going through a lot right now." She snarls, "Drake didn't show up! He never fucking shows up when I need him!" In that moment comforting her, some part of me is filled with dread at the next part I'm about to do. Nearby some tissues to steal.
My voice is soft and firm, "here; let me play you a little something." She is finding this odd but goes along with it. The somber mellow tones that are dreary, pulling on her heart and even causing me to choke a little with each pluck of the string; it's hard to describe but feels like someone is behind me, helping guide my hand on each cord to play and slowly see her turn from enjoying the music to a bitter sadness. She starts to ball her eyes out. I can't help but wrap my arms around her.
Millia crying, "it's my fault; I should've spent more time with him, why did I have to be so selfish?" Knowing her, this hurts to hear from someone who gives those around her the time if need be. Quite the opposite of selfish. While this is going on, well no use in letting the opportunity go to waste. As the book is in hand which I swear I don't remember bringing with me, regardless the reading of the words on the page and leaving the book to feel my guitar become hot then cold with the two mixing together; feeling the mismatch of heat dancing along side one another.
This left me with enough guilt to stay with her until she hadn't needed my comfort anymore. We parted ways until she ran from behind.
She asked, "don't you have someone to pick you up?" To that shaking my head. She drags me to her car. She offers, "it's the least I could do; offer you a ride and all." Every part of me feeling bad for taking advantage of her as the ride goes along. Once we reach my place, a hug is given. Now all that was needed is sweat. A friendly wave goodbye, then step inside my apartment building to my room. An eviction notice put on my door. This left me a heavy heart until my feet started to move on my own towards where the land lord was. The strings being strum just within distance for him to hear; to see the blank look on his face filled me with joy until he started hurting himself and looked as if he'd be driven insane with acting as a mad man and ran.
My question, "My queen, why did you do that?" Every part of me, never meant to say those first two words. The influence, the effect. Some part of me wanted to blame it but some part of me knows it hadn't been.
She responds in kind, "he was a threat to my greatness; no, to our greatness. Don't you want to spread the music? it's influence, it's beauty." To that, no argument from me. If there was a choice in the matter, well I'd damned myself anyways and being this deep, violating the most private and sacred spaces of the mind. To go further into detail, it's not that these are speculated thoughts because details are left out on my end whether intended or not but rummaging around the souls around me with my music. The memories dragged out by my effort. What did nerds call them again? Oh yeah, a warlock and a bard or something. At first; blind to these facts but the further in the ritual I've gone, the less I can act blind to them.
Every step forward is less of a reason to excuse my actions, isn't it? Regardless not like you could ever know what I'm feeling, until you've had the furthest depths of your soul tugged and pulled you couldn't know. Regardless, back to my room for sleep and see her. The flicker of her, the image that goes by like a film that's skipping frames, a flickering monitor and her angelic voice flicker with it. The tethering bridge on my soul feeling stronger; her emotions feel stronger. Our conversation delayed, answers not as solid with having her body shrunken down even further. Her influence over me, starting to shrink.
That waking up for the final day to get her connected to my world, heading down to practice as soon as possible; skipping the hygiene to approach Thomas and Millia.
Thomas comments, "man; you look like you barely got any sleep. Are you okay?" A quick nod on my end, then Millia put her hand on my shoulder.
Millia asks, "is there anything you wanna talk about?" Me shaking my head. Then my hands strum the strings; the two struggling to work against the music.
The pleads, "please forgive me, please forgive me." These two start doing jumping jacks, running in place and doing push ups. They look as if they're ready to throw up, the sweat building up but none of it truly being enough, needing more from them. We go jobbing around the block, eventually getting enough sweat. Now having revealed what my guitar can do, they try to stop me as the book is one hand and the guitar in the other with dodging them as they try to grab me. The instrument growing a galaxy across it, the beautiful sounds to be heard as the living space is on display from the tuning pegs to the bottom. The rage built inside myself, "these two trying to stop me of all people?" So a quick strum of the strings, they're in line. My queen, now having a stable bridge and every note I've played brings her closer to me.
My new puppets, now lead to practice with us practicing until enough is enough. Them being exhausted but I'm just fired up. Thomas having his phone buzzing mid session.
Thomas picks it up, "yeah mom? No sorry mom I'm just... at practice right now. Still? Yeah I'm still at practice, I understand mom but this important to me. Just for today? Okay, I love you too; goodbye." Mike hangs up, to act as if no control was being done my goddess's part would be foolish of me to say. We had to keep the practice going after all.
Millia reminds me, "we have that gig at the club; remember?" To that, I do remember. So with me sitting in the back we get to the club. This isn't a small club; Millia new a guy that new a guy and sure enough; we got in. You might be wondering why I'd let us get to the club and not wait after doing more practice. Quite simple, my queen was ready for her grand entrance.
The crowd waiting as we got ready; this being it, our moment to shine. As we played, the ethereal black ooze starts to form from my guitar; however, it stops and some part of me dies inside until I've realized the music still is divine, that same angelic sound still there just that my queen stopped stepping through the doorway. I'm thankful her voice is felt and not heard, otherwise the crowd would be screaming. She said, "not yet." At the end of the song we got an applause along with a man in a well dressed suit coming up to us.
His deep booming voice said, "you know; there's a place that'd love to you have play. Have you heard of the King's Club?" My ears ring at that name and happily nod. The other two, not so happy. He continues, "they could use a band right now considering the other band cancelled last second." At this request with happy nods. We quickly load up and follow him.
Thomas having seen what was coming out of my guitar pleads, "don't do this James. This... this isn't you!" This used to not be me, he wasn't wrong about that part but now? This is me. A quick strum of the strings, he slaps himself. He shuts himself up and the two are nothing more than puppets now. They never understood, I've needed my queen, my muse my entire life and I hadn't realized that until now. A missing puzzle piece now filled even if it's the wrong color but the right shape. We reach the fancy club, let in and for the set up with Millia and Thomas looking as if they're ready to cry and scream for help but can't now. With each strum of the string as we start, the two act on my command. The crowd being wowed, emotionally moved and finally feeling each and every crowd member react to my music. To her influence, she starts to have black tendrils form that turn to a starry night sky for each tendril is wrapped with as she grabs people, twisting and turn them to her whim.
In person, nothing could rival her beauty nor her playing as she had a bass in hand. The crowd fell to their knees, worshipping her as she played. I'll make sure; our music and it's influence spreads far and wide.
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