Work Text:
One not so quiet night
Under the stage's light
These words take flight
With your distinct melody
How you try so hard
To compose a love song
For me…
Norman puts the pen down and sighs at the edge of his bed. The rest of the words aren’t coming to him.
***
It starts off as any other day.
“Ray. You need to get up.” Emma says, poking his spine.
Ray pretends he doesn't hear her. It’s not every Friday lets himself sleep in. There are always things to do. Places to be. People to meet. And right now, his next and only client is his bed. He snuggles into his pillow, mind everywhere but in the dreamworld. Even resting doesn’t feel like resting sometimes.
“ Ray .”
Emma has the spare key to his apartment, and Emma is Emma. He’s not going to get his way, but he can try. He had given her that key in confidence . She’s standing at the foot of his bed. He’s on his stomach with his face in his pillow, and the covers were all the way up to his ears until Emma pulled them right off.
He can tell her position by where her voice comes from.
“Come on. It’s past noon. You’ll get indigestion.”
Good argument. Sure. But bold of her to assume he’s not passed the point of return. He feels his lip twitch, but he doesn’t let himself smirk.
She sighs,“You know what? I give up.”
Emma huffs; Ray waits for her to try something. To tickle him, maybe. Jump unto him like she’d do when they were kids. Maybe open one of his windows and scream an embarrassing story at the top of her lungs. One about him. Maybe she’ll threaten to hang his underwear on the windowsill- the list goes on.
But then the door creaks (open, he assumes), and shuts again. He waits a minute. Then two.
And there is silence.
…Did she really just leave?
He peeks out with one eye open and that’s all it takes for Emma to longe at him. Ray yelps in a high pitched voice he will forever deny. Of course the door was a diversion. Damnit.
“I got you.” She says, red hair falling all over her face. She smiles so wide it must hurt her cheeks.
She’s in a yellow dress; she’s been obsessed with yellow this year.
Ray sighs, bleary eyed, “Good for you.” He yawns, “What got you so worked up this time?”
“Gilda's got this friend who owns that casino nearby and apparently they need a pianist! I thought you’d want to see them to get a feel, you know? Don't you want to?”
Ray sits up, squinting at her and at the light. Emma rolls off of him to the side of his bed, grinning.
And well, he could use some extra cash.
“Why didn’t you say that first? When is it?"
Ray looks around his room. There are tons of books on the ground, a few coffee mugs in the corner of his study desk. Blankets he should wash, plates he should wash. Other things he should wash. He grimaces.
“I wanted to get you awake with something other than that. I was challenging my limits.”
He stretches,“You just wanted to be difficult.”
Emma laughs, “Anyways, you up for it? They’re expecting us at one for a light interview. Oh! And wear something casual.”
“It’s today ?”
“Yes siree.”
Ray digs through his sheets to find his phone. Can’t be that late, right? But earlier, didn't she say...
“Emma, it’s past twelve!”
“More reason for you to get up, sleepy head. She said you could wear a hoodie or something anyway.”
Ray trips off the bed, feeling the room almost spin. And then he runs out into the hall only to run back in to get some change of clothes.
“When did you even find out about this?” He asks, rummaging through a draw.
A bunch of hoodies fall out in the process. He has way too many gray ones and right now, he feels like burning them all. So he picks one that looks less like depression made of cotton. A blue one.
“Thirty minutes ago.” She’s still lounging on his bed like she owns the place.
Ray runs out the room again, this time with more dignity.
“Unbelievable.” He shouts it down the hall, pulling the bathroom door open. It jiggles, he really needs to fix the knob.
She shouts back, “It’s worth it, I promise.”
Ray, washing his face, his eyebrow twitches, “Oh, it better be.”
***
They get there five minutes early, even when Ray lets them stop to get Emma a frappuccino to "thank her for helping him out." Then they took a taxi. The traffic wasn’t so bad. But Ray has a feeling Emma knew this would happen but wanted to see him panic.
However, his eyes widen when they get to the stop, Emma pulling him by the hand. (After almost forgetting to pay the taxi. Luckily, the driver wasn't too annoyed about it.)
It’s not the first time he’s passed this Casino on the way to his college. But it’s definitely the first time it’s had anything to do with him. They loiter around the big glass doors. Ray tries to peek inside, but he can barely see through the tint.
Turning back around to face the road, Ray rubs a wrinkle out of his hoodie. He needs to look as normal as possible. It’d be so awkward, if someone was watching them through the glass and stumbled upon them doing something stupid. Emma tries the door, but it doesn’t budge. And there aren’t any people around the front who can tell them anything either.
“Are you sure it’s here?” Ray folds his arms.
“Yup, positive. It’s minutes to one… shouldn’t it be open?” She mumbles.
“We’re not open today. For interviews.”
Emma and Ray startle. There is a man reflected in the glass, standing right behind them with a small smile. Like a ghost. Ray turns to face him only to realise he's nearer than he thought he was. His hair is so light it almost looks silver, and bright blue eyes that catch the noon sunlight. Ray sucks in a breath.
Well then.
Emma ruffles her hair, “Are you the one we’re waiting for? For interviews, I mean.”
The guy shifts his black folder from one hand to the other, “I would assume so.”
The boy is smiling casually, holding a set of keys.
Emma asks, out of curiosity, why the Casino is closed.
"You see, one our pianist just left and our customers are pretty demanding. We spoil them. Pity we had to close today, since it’s Friday and all. I’m Norman.”
He gives out a hand for a shake, Emma takes it first with a winning smile.
Then Norman shakes Ray’s, it's colder than he expects, a contrast to the slight rosiness high on his cheeks. But matches the light dark circles underhis eyes.
Ray gives his own smile, "Ray Freeman."
"Cool." Norman's smile widens and then he lets go.
Maybe, just maybe, Ray's heart dances a little dance. It's not like he's blind ; he knows an attractive guy when he sees one. Dark circles and all.
Upon opening the doors, everything inside glows under the dim lights. There are gambling boards in several places, and a bar area on two sides of the room. Overall it's neat yet packed with things to do. Busy in its own right despite there being no one but them.
“Which one of you is the one I'll be interviewing?” Norman asks, “Or, is it both?”
He leads them to a room that is about half way into the casino labeled, in bronze letters, 'Staff Only.'
They follow him in as Ray says, “That would be me.”
Norman grins and claps his hands together, “Alright. Just warning you, I see no point in doing interview questions. Let’s see you play something.”
“Like, right now?” Ray asks dumbly.
It’s not that he can’t. If anything, that’s better for him. But when are things ever so smooth sailing? Emma's green eyes sparkle, glittering with pride (that could possibly be misplaced), “Trust me, you’re going to love him, Norman.”
Ray wilts at her praise, brushing her off with faintly pink cheeks, “Stop that.”
That right there, is how one can become the victim of a jinx. And that, right there, is what the side character says when they mutter an "It'll be fine" and end up the first one dead in some cheaply produced horror film-
Perhaps he's overthinking this.
“We’ll see. Emma, do you mind staying outside here? It’s nothing personal, it’s just that an interview is still an interview. You can help yourself to the snack bar over there if you’d like.”
He points to the shelf of goodies in the corner to their right.
Ray raises a brow but says nothing. Emma doesn't look offended by it (her eyes are already set on the ice cream bars) and puts a thumb up, “Sure, no problem!”
She bumps Ray's shoulder affectionately, “Good luck.”
Ray rolls his eyes, “Yeah yeah, thanks.”
Norman eyes them with an unreadable expression, and Ray becomes aware of how unprofessional he’s being right now. Maybe he’ll get sent home on the spot. Well, he would have been, had this been a normal interview.
Norman leads him to another door within the staff room. At first, when Norman closes the door, it's pitch black. So dark Ray can't see his hands; there doesn't seem to be any windows. But when he switches on the light, Ray lays eyes on the most beautiful grand piano he's ever seen. For a second he doesn't know what oxygen is.
The piano is white. But even then, it still manages to catch the light and show off its polished finish. All that while also popping against the dark grey walls. If Ray had to die single, he'd at least want to kiss this piano on his deathbed.
His hand twitches.
"A sight, isn't it?" Norman gives him a knowing smile.
Is he kidding? This is every pianist's dream . This is God in the form of musicality. (Okay, maybe he's pushing it.)
Ray straightens up, trying to appear calm, "Yes, it is. Must've cost a fortune."
And debts, in Ray's case.
"Maybe so. Now there'll be no excuses if you play badly."
Ray watches him, sweat starting to form. He tries to laugh, though it comes out more awkward than anything else. Norman eyes him with another strange smile, "I'm kidding. Feel free to play anything."
Ray takes that as his cue to sit, hands itching to press the keys.
"R-right."
Ray does not get this guy, and that makes him anxious. He smiles a little too much, his jokes are unsettling and he seems open and closed off all at once. But now's not the time to think about those things. Ray's fingers glide over the keys, watching the piano suck in every beam of light it possibly could. Man, it's sparkling.
But he should start playing soon. What would a person look for in a good pianist? What should he play? He gets a sudden thought.
Canon in D, he thinks. He gets butterflies thinking about it.
Ray always wanted to play 'Canon in D' on a piano this grand. (Pun intended.) It was the first song he ever learnt on the keyboard his uncle bought for him when he was twelve. (Minus a few easy tutorials for pop songs.)
He imagined it every night for years, a moment similar yet far from this. The heat of a stage and the waxed, wooden platform. All eyes on him, a sea of people just beyond the bright lights. That, and excited murmurs all around.
One day, that will be him. But for now, he must start somewhere.
That journey starts now. His heart stutters in his chest.
Here goes nothing.
He starts to play. The acoustics give him chills right off the bat. The sound rises all the way to the ceiling like mist, and stays there. Which makes sense. It wouldn't cost a fortune to simply look pretty. The ceilings are quite high, and the room is spacious, too.
At some point, he forgets Norman is there at all. The chords bounce around the room. It's everywhere around him, and he is breathing it in. But it all ends too fast.
The moment is gone when Norman starts clapping. Ray is almost startled, but manages to keep himself steady. The look Norman gives him is one almost of awe, but not quite so. Ray isn't sure what he's seeing, honestly.
“That was… wonderful." The man says, "Gilda really did speak highly of you. Have you played anywhere like this casino before?”
Ray blushes a little at the praise, “Not. I played at weddings in the family before… that’s about it, honestly.”
"I see." Norman says, humming under his breath. His gaze on Ray is a little electrifying with its intensity. The back of his neck is getting hot again. That is, until Norman starts to look nervous. He shifts from one foot to the other, biting his lip. It’s the most prominent emotion Ray’s seen on his face since coming here.
Ray raises a brow. “Is… everything okay?"
He instantly regrets asking because Norman winces. That can't be good, right? Is he going to get rejected on the spot? Maybe Norman doesn't like him enough to keep him, and Ray asking only makes it harder to break the news-
“I…only have one more thing to ask. It’s a favour I want, rather.” Norman says.
Ray blinks, “Yeah?”
To his surprise, Norman is the one to give a sheepish smile this time, “How good are you at making your own pieces?”
Ray has no clue where this is going, "To be honest, I never tried that hard to make one before.”
Ray had always been better at reading sheet music and following the timing. Composing his own music had always felt like a far cry from his skillset.
When Norman doesn’t say anything, he probes further. “Is there… a reason?”
Normam’s cool eyes take on a strangely warm sparkle, “Do you think you can you make…a love song?”
Ray stares at him, the silence taking over for a moment.
.
.
.
He bursts into laughter. And to his horror, it's hard to curb. Norman, (good god) lets him laugh it out and boy does it echo, “Sorry, but don't you think that's a pretty daring request to ask a total stranger? Do you ask all your workers to do this?”
Norman downright blushes then, “Ah, you’re right. And yeah, I don't ask everyone that question..."
“Then why me?” Ray asks.
This is the weirdest thing he’s heard all week. But maybe his life is just that uneventful. He doesn’t do much outside of Emma’s adventurous whims. Occasionally Don pulls him out for drinks, and even then he leaves earlier than the rest of them.
“Well, to put it simply, I want to hear something that makes my heart race.” Norman says.
Ray watches him blankly again and then looks around.
“I’m sorry, but how serious are you about this right now- are there hidden cameras?”
Norman chuckles, “One hundred percent serious. And there are no cameras here for that purpose.”
Ray watches him closely. His cheeks are still red, and his entire demeanour is totally different from when they entered this room.
Ray sighs, “I don’t know that much about love. I don’t think I can.”
Norma deflates, "Oh, I see."
His disappointed face should not bother Ray as much as it does.
He shrugs, “I’ll think about it.”
Norman perks up.
“I know this isn't professional, but I couldn't help myself? I quite liked your playing…”
Ray smirks a little. "I'm flattered. Thought for sure I was going to get kicked out."
Norman's eyes light up again,“And I should've said this before, but you're hired.”
Ray sighs in relief, getting off the chair, “On the spot?”
“On the spot.”
If that doesn’t sound shady enough…but if Emma recommended it, then perhaps it’s alright.
“Okay…what days am I expected to be here?”
“Everyday Friday and Saturday at ten pm. We have other pianists on different days. Does this work?”
"Yeah. I can work with that."
No waiting for calls, or checking with future applicants? Can something in life really be so smooth sailing?
“I’ll be nice working with you, Ray.” Norman grins, putting his hand out for a shake.
Ray takes it, and then they let go. They walk back out to where Emma was in the staff room and find her munching on a pack of potato chips.
"He was truly spectacular." Norman says.
Emma smiles, and then looks at Ray with a knowing smile that asks, you got it, right? To that, he shrugs with a small smirk that says Yup. Sure did.
Emma fist pumps the air, "I knew you could do it. There were no buts about it."
Soon enough Emma and Ray are out of there after saying goodbyes. But when Ray turns back briefly, he catches Norman's surprisingly devious grin. Ray feels his cheeks get hot. He doesn't get to look like that after asking for a love song like they're in some movie.
What a weirdo.
***
It's always noisy and crowded at his college cafeteria. But he supposes it would be like that anywhere there's food. It's a miracle his schedule lines up with Don and Emma's today.
"I think he's got a few screws loose." Ray mutters.
"Don't speak like that about your future colleague." Don says.
Ray is sure Don’s just trying to sound cool. He used a different product in his hair today and it’s shiny, and brown. And maybe the shine went to his brain cells. And his future colleague ?
He supposes Norman is working there, all things considered. He did look important. Suit and all. Ray sighs, flipping through his notebook next to his tray in hopes of revising again. Only, he learnt all this already. There’s nothing else to retain.
“But what kind of weirdo asks someone to make a love song? Why couldn’t he ask the other pianists? And hiring me on the spot?”
“Maybe he did. But shouldn’t you be happy?” Emma is grinning, “It would be romantic, if you didn’t have that look on your face.” She thinks it’s romantic ? But Ray does not feel romanced.
Instead he rolls his eyes, “Last time I had a crush it was-”
“In elementary school. So you claim.” Don smirks.
Well, he has a point. The last time Ray had a puppy crush was in elementary school, but he’s seen many attractive men since then…and maybe his stomach swooped a little. But then they’d turn out to be all dumbasses, or straight, or dumbass- ly straight. Even if Emma says all guys aren’t good enough for him anyway. And tries to make him feel better by saying he was too good for them-
Well.
Norman is definitely a weirdo…even if the way he speaks is a little mesmerising. He is most definitely straight, and a weirdo.
And straight . Key word.
His eyes were so blue.
Ray’s neck goes a little hot, “Norman didn’t say why he wanted it anyway. I don’t think it has anything to do with me.”
Except he’s the one composing it, if he decides he will do it. It’s probably for his girlfriend and not for the ridiculous reason he gave. Maybe it’s a joke Norman made as a pianist initiation code or whatever. Unsuspecting pretty boys are crazy.
Emma fiddles with her phone camera, ruining her bottom lip, and pointedly ignoring his response, “Do you even own a suit? We should go get you one.”
Her green eyes are sparkling. Maybe it’s the sunlight from the wide windows, Ray can never tell. Don’s gone to fixing his hair again with a mirror Ray didn’t see him take out.
Ray rubs his temple, and then between his eyebrows, “Are either of you listening to me?”
“Nope, but you can’t argue. You really do need one.”
Ray rolls his eyes. She’s right.
***
It’s after Ray’s last class, Ray and Emma go to a shopping mall. At the entrance, Ray is ready to turn back.
There’s too many people, and they’re all too energetic. Like an exothermic reaction waiting to happen in his face. He doesn’t want to get involved in that. Emma watches him closely and drags him by the hand all the way to the back entrance where they both know less people go. Ray squeezes her hand in thanks.
They find a store soon enough. It looks super expensive.
Ray should’ve bought a suit way before. But he didn’t think he would get a chance to play anywhere besides a wedding. Family didn't care what he wore. There, he would normally wear a turtleneck, a suit jacket, and some black jeans.
Ray looks around the simpler ones on the mannequins. When a woman comes to ask if he needs help finding anything, he says he’s just looking around for now. He can’t stand when they follow him around in stores. He feels obligated to buy something or to pretend he knows what he’s doing. Most times he does not know what he’s doing. He would like to look uncultured in solitude, thank you very much.
There’s one mannequin with a plain black suit jacket, a white shirt inside and a bow tie. He’d rather a necktie. A bow tie will make him feel like he’s trying too hard. Any other guy would look good when they wear it-
“Ray, you need to try this one.”
Emma points to a blue suit hung up on the rack over his head.
Ray makes a face, “The suit looks cool, and I actually like this blue… but I don’t think it’s the look I should be going for.”
It would completely match Norman’s eyes, though. He blinks at himself. Now’s not the time, brain.
“Try it, please?” Emma gives him puppy dog eyes. They’re sparkling again.
He sighs, “Fine, alright.”
He looks at himself in the changing room mirror. All he sees is his plain black hair, his plain green eyes. And then this suit that really doesn’t suit him. Pun not intended. He would take it, if he had the confidence. Or maybe if he was stupid enough.
Ray is neither confident nor stupid.
He leaves the store with the black suit and a pouting Emma in tow. (One with a necktie.) However, she recovers quickly when she sees a purse she likes. Not that she buys it. She’s more of an economist with money than he is, sometimes. How can she not be with all her talk about ‘choices, Ray ’ and ‘ and marginal utility, Ray !’ and ‘ opportunity cost, Ray .’
With no real goal in mind after suit shopping, they walk around until they come across what looks like a small Italian restaurant. It has an open setting, with only small brown fancy fences around. Perhaps it’s because the whole mall has AC. They didn’t need to make it a totally separate space.
But what catches Emma’s eye isn’t the decor.
“Hey, isn’t that Norman?”
Ray blinks, and ducks behind Emma without thinking much about it. He peaks up from behind her and scans the area. Upon looking closer he spots him holding a glass of wine. In front of him seems to be an older man, hair the same platinum blonde hair and body built almost the same. Are they related? The air around them feels impenetrable. A world unknown by the rest of them even as they all stand in the same space. Norman’s jaw is set, eyes cold. And important, in a different sense.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Emma asks, pairing at them. If she’s judging Ray for hiding, she doesn’t say anything.
“Beats me.”
It’s as confusing as his instinctive desire to hide.
“Let’s leave them be.” Emma shrugs.
Though he is curious, he follows Emma out.
***
Next week Friday comes too quickly. He’s compiled a list of songs he knows, just to make sure he feels less light shaking. Emma wanted to come, but she promised Anna she would go with her to a modelling gig. It’s not like Ray needs her here. It’s more like he wouldn’t mind if she came.
His phone vibrates in his pants pocket, and he fixes his tie because it feels too tight.
It’s only three hours to stay here. Till three o’ clock in the morning.
He knows when he gets into playing, he’ll be having fun. The moments up to it is another thing by itself. The moments where he wonders if he should come in his suit, or if he should go in casual wear and then put on the suit.
He had decided he’d just wear it. He’s eight minutes early, but he goes to the front anyway. The guards are here tonight, less than he thought there would be.
“ID.” Says the guard.
He takes it out and shows them. They let him inside. It’s packed. Of course it is. It’s Friday and it’s late. These people want to waste away and play. Maybe he should come here as a customer one of these days.
He hears piano playing, the other person’s shift most likely hasn’t ended yet.
So, he goes to the staff room. It’s not empty. There are a few other people, but he’s assuming he’s allowed in here…
“Am I allowed in here?” he finds himself asking.
A woman with a ponytail and a squinted gaze looks at him, “Oh, you must be the new pianist. Sure, you can be here.”
“Cool, thanks.”
Ray goes to sit on one of the chairs, loosening his necktie for a second time.
He checks his phone.
‘Good luck out there <3” It says.
It’s from Emma. Ray smiles.
“Thanks lol.” He says back.
He looks up, only to see that the few people there are all looking at him. He bristles.
“Is something wrong?”
The woman looks over at a guy. The guy looks at him, “You know, Boss doesn’t usually give people pianist jobs so easily.”
Wait, boss ? He doesn’t let the shock show on his face.
Ray squints, “Are you implying I did something underhanded to get on his good side?”
Though, he didn’t think it was a little strange that Norman was so lenient. Maybe he was in a good mood.
The guy laughs, “No, that’s not what I mean. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Cislo. This is Barbara.”
He points at the woman. They’re both wearing white shirts and black pants. Ray’s glad he chose a black suit. He would’ve looked like a fool.
“I’m Ray.”
They shake hands.
“As I was saying. It’s just that Boss is hard to please.”
“He didn’t take anyone from the other interviews for a while now. I was shocked when he said you’d be working here.”
Ray lets that sink in. Does it actually mean anything?
Ray smirks, “I guess my work was just that good.”
Barbara laughs, “I like your attitude.”
Then, a guy comes in and says, “Next pianist shift.”
Ray gets up and says, “I guess that’s me.”
The man doesn’t respond, his face is like stone. Ray walks past him awkwardly.
***
He goes to sit at the piano's front. It's nerve racking. He feels like everyone is watching him when no one is. But when he starts to play, he can't stop.
They let him take a five minute break at an interval. He gets a few until his shift is over. He wipes his face and thinks about going to the staff room but sits on a stool by a bar instead. A group of people gamble at the tables. At another, there's a ball game.
He sighs.
"Care for a drink?" Someone says.
"No thanks."
Wait. Ray knows this voice. He turns around and almost falls off the chair with how he leans back. It's Norman in a suit once again. But his eyes look significantly duller. There are bags under his eyes. Ray pretends he doesn't notice. It's not his place to pry. He 's not Emma.
"It's you." He says, "and can you please stop doing that?"
Norman looks a little amused, "Doing what?"
"You're- never mind. I'll take water."
He can't push his luck with his colleague- boss . He might get fired. Funny, like he doesn't ask for love songs.
"Sparkling or tap?"
"You pick."
Norman gets a glass, some ice and… pulls out a bottled water and pours it. Completely ignoring the options he gave. Ray watches him. Norman watches him back and slides the class towards him.
"Do you know you're really weird?" Ray says.
He instantly regrets it. There goes watching his words.
Norman only grins "That's not a common thing I hear, so no."
Ray hums, taking a sip, "You picked right. I don't like tap or sparkling water."
"Figured."
Ray doesn't know what else to say. So he doesn't say anything. He doesn't need to. Norman gets called over by someone else. But when Norman goes over to them, Ray notices it more. He doesn't smile as much, if anything, he looks a little bit tired.
And he's really good at making drinks. Or at least he looks good mixing them.
When he's done, Norman goes back to spacing out. Looking lost. Ray watches him for a good minute. On one hand, it's better for him to go home. Better to go to bed so he can wake up decently. As decently as he can. But instead he sighs and beacons Norman over. Norman looks surprised but he does.
"Did you want more water?" Norman asks.
Ray blinks, feeling foolish. Yet, he pushes on. "What's wrong with you?"
Norman squints at him, "I'm sorry?"
Ray flushes, "No, no. I mean what's up? You keep spacing out."
He must really sound stupid.
Norman wrings his hands, "That obvious."
He's not even asking.
Ray hums, "You going to talk about it?"
"Wouldn't I bother you?"
Ray laughs, "Doesn't matter. You can't get more extreme than three am."
"Fair enough."
A silence again. Ray thinks Norman is trying to gather his words.
"My father wants me to study business abroad."
Ray shakes his glass, pretending he isn't all that curious.
"Do you want to go?"
Norman pauses. He's probably thinking.
Then, he swallows audibly, "No."
"Then don't."
"It can't be that simple."
"I didn't say it would be. But how much are you willing to fight for what you want?"
He doesn't know where the words come from. But he knows he must sound ridiculous. Frankly, that's all Emma's fault. It’s Emma's words to him once before. They’d stuck like glue to a page in a scrapbook.
Norman looks him in the eye, his gaze suddenly fierce. "I'd do anything."
Ray feels a chill up his spine. What passionate eyes. They were different from any other face Norman ever made. He rests leans unto his hand, giving Norman a shrug.
"There you have it. Your answer. It might be hard to fight the current. But it's possible."
Ray has been told many times he's not suited to music. He's too book smart to just waste it with music. But who said he couldn't be smart and play music? Why get a degree in sciences of he won't feel fulfilled afterwards?
Norman seems to think over, "Thanks. I didn't know I needed to hear that."
"No problem." Ray tilts his head and takes a last gulp of his water.
Ah. The night, it's wasting away soon.
He says his goodbyes, feels Norman's eyes lingering at his back.
Miraculously, he still has his job. Miraculously, he’s excited to come back again.
***
Norman’s room is quiet and spacious.
He’s at his desk.
There’s a poem he wants to write. But he has no inspiration for emotions like this.
***
Ray presses random keys, even going as far as to experiment with different scales. He is definitely not testing if he can write a love song. Definitely no way in hell-
By the time lunchtime rolls around, he strings something decent together but he doesn't like it very much. There are no emotions behind it for Ray can't remember what romance feels like enough to blend the music together.
***
Emma likes playing pop music in her living room. Ray jams out with her while studying for his exams.
"I love that you have work now. But I missed you. I missed this ." Emma says, when they’ve finally settled down.
"It's only been three weeks. And you're always coming over anyway."
Ray clicks his tongue. Emma pats him on the head like he's a child. He lets her even if he flicks her knee from where he's sitting on her couch. Then his phone vibrates. It pops up as from Norman. He actually forgot they exchanged contacts at some point.
'My father slapped me across the face.' It says.
Ray feels his heart sink. He connects the dots fast. Perhaps the guy from the restaurant? Wait, was that his fault?
'Sorry, is it because of my advice?'
He sees the typing bubbles that come and go.
'No, this is actually the most free I've felt in forever. He's letting me stay. I should've said that first. Thank you.'
Ray's lips quirk up, 'Don't go crazy and thank me for getting slapped. Are you okay?"
'I'm great.'
He types 'Good' but thinks better of it. He thinks better of it and types 'okay' instead.
"What are you smiling at?"
Ray startles. He was smiling?
"Nothing."
The curtain at the window flies up, hitting his face. Emma starts blasting music again. And Ray’s concentration has long since ceased.
***
There’s a poem Norman wants to write, but he can’t find the words.
It’s the first time he’s put so much thought into his poems. All his others were just plain raw.
Of things in his family he wished not to speak of. When he hates himself, why can't he hate his family?
***
It's become a habit for Ray to stay back with Norman at the bar. When they're like this, Ray keeps forgetting Norman is supposed to be his boss. That can't be good…though he supposes it can’t be that bad Either. Norman doesn’t seem to mind.
Either way, he pretends he doesn't like it as much as he does.
"Is Emma your girlfriend? She comes to see you here often."
Ray chokes on his apple juice.
"Girlfriend? Don't be ridiculous. She's my best friend. Should you be asking your employee this anyway?"
Norman raises a brow, "I'm technically a bartender right now."
"You're ridiculous."
Norman snorts, "Do you hate it?"
No.
"I guess it's not intolerable."
A few seconds of silence.
"So, is Emma your girlfriend?"
Ray rolls his eyes, "Look, I love her. Just not like that. I'm gay."
Norman hums. "Alright. I'll get out of your hair, now."
Ray glares at him and Norman only smirks. At that, he can’t help the way he blushes.
***
One night, even workers begin to get suspicious.
"What did you do to the boss?" Hayato asks one time.
"Excuse me?" Ray says.
"He seems so different lately. It's kind of scary in a good way."
Ray doesn't know what to make of that. So he makes nothing .
***
Norman didn’t want to be treated like he was useless when he lived at that house, so he proved himself useful by studying till his head hurt.
The empty notebooks in his draw are calling him. But for once, he wants to write something different.
Sometimes, Norman’s writing appears mellow. Other times, they feel bitter. For he does not know what love is.
***
Norman sighs, "I can't take it anymore."
Ray looks at him owlishly, "Can't take what anymore?"
Norman stares at him intently while passing a glass of grape juice to him. It's kind of startling.
"Did you make it?" Norman asks.
"Make what ?"
"The love song."
Ray feels himself blush and can make out the slight pink on Norman’s cheeks.
"No."
Norman deflates. He actually deflates. His lips jut out, shoulders slumping. Ray can only blink even more owlishly. "Why did you want it anyway?"
"To make my heart race."
Oh gods. Not that excuse again.
Ray shakes his head. "No, not that. I mean.. Why do you want to induce this anyway? You have to tell me otherwise-"
'I won't have anything to go off of the next time I try.'
"-otherwise I won't do it."
He’s not about to explain that he’s already tried. It’s embarrassing enough that he’s already entertaining the whim.
Norman sighs, "I guess I owe you as much. None of it makes sense right? I must've sounded like a maniac."
Ray laughs, "Not so far gone yet."
"I'm flattered," he pours his shaker and passes it to the woman sitting not too far from them.
Norman says, "It's because I want to remember my humanity."
Ray raises a brow "What do you mean?"
Norman wipes a glass. "I'm not my father's only child. I'm actually his youngest."
Ray nods to show he's listening.
"The family isn’t so open-minded. If you can’t get more than ninety-five in a test, you’re basically a failure,"
Norman sucks in a breath.
Ray finds him knocking his hand with his, "Hey, you don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sorry I put you in a tight spot."
Norman shakes his head, "No, it's okay… I’m fine."
"If you say so."
"So I kind of did regrettable things. I lied a lot, sometimes I faked test scores. I'm very good at acting, you see. I watched my other siblings get hurt when they’d get lower than me. I couldn’t do anything. I tried once, when I was younger. I was already doing so well, my dad didn’t need to pressure my siblings anymore. He laughed and said nothing is that simple. That we needed to be able to survive in the real world. I remember I said that’s what surviving is, I would rather have not been born. I felt like, between school, home, friends, I had nowhere that felt like home."
He passes another drink. He speaks as he’s simply stating that black is black, and that blue is blue. The thought of it makes Rau’s chest ache ever so slightly. But he says nothing. Not yet.
"But we're all adults now, though. They don't do that anymore. We pretend we're above it all. My siblings don't hate me or hold it against me… but I constantly feel like something’s missing from my life. And I don’t know what. So I figured, maybe music will move me, somehow-"
Ray grabs his hand and squeezes. Norman squeezes it back.
“I feel like I don’t know who ‘me’ is. So now I want to make sure that I can still feel it. I want to make sure I did not lose me, even if I don't feel like me. So sometimes I write poems. And these days, I like music.”
Oh how everything makes sense, now.
Ray squeezes his hand, "I'll make the piece for you."
Norman goes to open his mouth but Ray stops him.
"It's not out of pity. I was actually planning to do it already. I just wanted some context… Norman, the fact that you feel this way is proof you are still in there. You're not far gone. You were forced to do something you didn’t want but it’s not too late to want something else.”
Norman smiles, a small weak trembling thing. "You always say what I need to hear without me knowing I need to hear it. It’s like you’re privy to my heart even as I’m unaware.”
"Don’t flatter me." Rays shakes his head. “And thank you for telling me.”
"No, thank you . For listening."
Ray gives Norman’s hand another squeeze before letting go. “But seriously. Why ask me?"
Can I really hope to be what you hope to hear?
Norman smiles, voice soft, "Didn’t I tell you? The way you play is beautiful."
Ray can't help blushing. He runs a hand through his hair with a huff.
Things changed a bit between them after that.
***
Most of the time, Norman doesn’t think the words don’t speak enough. But he wants to try. He wants to make them speak.
He wants to speak to himself. He wants to speak to the universe.
Norman wants to speak to…
***
Ray is in front of the piano, fiddling with keys again. He knows Norman’s reasons now, but it was stupid to think this would actually help.
He ignores Emma and Gilda watching him with curious gazes.
Unless… He plays a few minor chords in a row, he kind of likes it. Maybe it can start off, he doesn’t know. Dramatic sounding, a little hopeless. Maybe. He eventually gets creative-block though. Now he’s stuck again. But he likes where it’s going so far. He records himself playing and writes out the notes on a paper.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him like this.” Emma says to Gilda.
They’re both sitting by the island, eating the extra scrambled eggs Ray cooked for breakfast.
“Yeah, he looks totally into it.” Gilda says.
Ray’s brow twitches.
“I wonder what made him change his mind.”
“Wait, he’s composing the love song? I thought he said no. It sounds super cool so far.” Gilda says.
“Yup!” Emma doesn’t even try to be quiet this time.
Ray scowls. “I can hear the both of you!”
They laugh at him, like they know something he doesn’t.
“And I have creative block right now so-”
It’s as if Norman hears his thoughts, then.
‘Hey, want to hang out?’ Ray makes a noise at his phone.
‘Eh?’ he types.
‘You know, to go sightseeing. Maybe you can get an idea or two for the piece.’
Ray snorts. ‘I don’t think it works like that’
‘Then, how does it work?’ Comes Norman’s response.
Ray clicks his tongue, ‘I don’t know.’
‘Exactly. So, you up for it?’
Ray sighs, ‘Can I bring my two friends? They’re here with me. You remember Emma? And I’m sure you know Gilda.’
‘Yeah, sure!’ He can practically hear Norman’s grin through the phone.
‘But what exactly are we going to do? Boss?’
‘It’s a surprise. Meet me by that popular cafe.”
Of course it is.
“Emma, Gilda, Norman’s inviting us out. Wanna go?”
Doesn’t even take Emma two seconds to stand up. Gilda has to make sure her stool doesn’t topple over. Ray definitely wasn’t planning to study after this. Definitely not.
***
When they get there, Norman is waiting. And for the first time, Ray sees him in normal clothes. And Ray thinks, oh, so this is Norman. Real Norman.
“Long time no see.” Norman says to them.
Ray wants to say they literally saw each other last week, but then he remembers it must've been a longer time for Gilda and Emma. He waves anyway, trying not to stare at Norman too much. He looks good in blue.
“So, what’s this all about?” Emma says, “Ray just said we were going out and didn’t even say where. He was in such a hurry.”
Norman raises a brow at Ray, “Is that so?”
“No clue what she’s talking about.” Ray forces apathy onto his face.
But he feels seen through. What is being seen through anyway?
Gilda smiles at them, “Alright. So what are we going to do?”
Norman smiles, “Karaoke.”
Emma thinks it’s a great idea.
Ray is distraught. Gilda too as she pales. Though, she says nothing. Emma’s voice is pretty good. She sings the majority of the songs and tries to get Gilda to sing with.
Guilda laughs nervously, “I'm tone deaf.”
Norman hums, “That’s okay. No one will judge. I’ve heard you sing before.”
“And it was horrible.” She adds.
Norman and Emma manage to convince her. Ray thinks it wasn’t that bad, with how she was describing it. And then it comes to his turn.
“No thanks.”
Emma whines about it. Gilda says if she had to sing, Ray should too.
Norman is in on it. “Hey, why not do a duet like they did? Wanna give it a go together?”
Emma is giving him puppy dog eyes. Gilda is glaring playfully. Norman is just smiling, but god his eyes are sparkling.
“Ugh, fine.”
“Alright, Gilda, Emma. What song do you think we should sing?”
“The Other Side.”
Ray glares at Emma. Did she hear him singing that along in his room or something or…
“Sounds great!” Norman is already picking the song, “You go first.”
The music starts playing. Ray can’t miss this. Norman is looking at him and smiling. Ray starts singing. He feels kind of shy about it, when all eyes are on him. But he smirks at the shock on Norman’s face. And then he kind of just gets stuck in the lyrics. He really liked singing this one. When Norman follows up, it’s like he’s brought out of his head. Ray can’t stop looking at him. He can’t stop smiling. Norman’s mannerisms are so cute too.
Don’t you wanna get away?
From the same old parts you gotta play?
Wait, Ray’s smiling.
It goes like this, until the end.
***
“I didn’t know you could sing so well. You were really into it.”
Ray rolls his eyes, he was really into it, it’s embarrassing, “Well I didn’t know you could either. I didn’t know you went to Karaoke.”
Norman laughs, “That was my first time there.”
“Wait seriously?”
“I am a man of many secrets.”
And Ray finds that he wants to know what they are. Gilda finds herself drawn to a bookstore, so they all follow suit. When they’re in, Emma steals Ray away for a little. They pick a few books they want to read. Ray more so than ever. He secretly takes some manga though.
Emma sees him but doesn’t say a word of it.
“Are you having fun?” She asks.
Ray looks away, then back at her, “Yeah, I am. Is that the only reason you pulled me over here?”
Emma grins, “I’m proud of you.”
Ray sighs, “I have no clue what’s happening.”
She pulls him right out and back by Norman and Gilda.
Even then, he is still clueless.
***
Emma says she wants to go to the beach. She gets what she wants. They take a few pictures there. They even write their names in the sand a few times at different spots. Too bad, the waves will wash them away soon.
And then, Emma gets her own ideas again, and leaves Normand and Ray alone under the guise of getting her and Guilda fruit pops.
“We’ll be back.” Emma had said. Ray could see the mischief in her eyes.
He hopes Norman is clueless. But that’s unlikely. They’re silent for a moment, until they aren’t anymore.
“I think a part of me is right in this spot.” Norman says.
Ray raises a brow, “Hm? How come?”
“I liked the beach when I was little. I would tell it everything because I thought the waves would wash it away and nobody would ever find them. Silly, right?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s good to dream.” He smiles. “Your imagination must’ve been vivid.”
Norman smiles again, why does it look so sad? “Not so much anymore.”
It makes Ray hurt again.
‘You never know,’ He wants to say, ‘It might still be in there somewhere. These things never really go away.’
But it’s not his place to say all that, is it? He’ll wait from the sidelines, putting words to piano keys in hopes of a love song.
“Why did you really bring me here? Us here?” Ray asks.
Norman keeps looking at the sunset, a gentle look on his face.
“I already told you, didn’t I? Love song material.”
Ray sighs through his nose, a smile appearing on his own face, “Really, I don’t even know how you say that with a straight face anymore.”
Norman laughs. The light dances in his hair, and he’s smiling. Ray’s heart is racing, his insides feel bright and gold like the sun at the horizon. His stomach swoops. No, it more than swoops. He is falling.
And Ray thinks oh . Oh no. He grips the sand, he loses a lot of it between his fingers.
So this is what it feels like.
“Thanks, I guess.” Ray mumbles, heart racing.
“I’ll show you my poems one day.” Norman says.
“Sure.”
Emma and Gilda come running back. Their faces all flushed and extra fruit pops in hand.
***
Ray remembers the books scattered on the floor, the music sheets scattered under his mother’s feet.
“Is this how you want to waste your life, Ray?”
He remembered how it felt like his heart wasn’t beating, not because he was scared. But because he felt so ashamed he wished to stop breathing. It beat so fast that it felt like it wasn't beating at all. He couldn’t meet her eyes.
He shakes the thought away. Ray made a few mistakes while playing today. He hasn’t been doing well on the sleep front these days, so it’s hard to stay awake. Maybe he really isn’t cut out for this. Maybe he should’ve listened to his mother when she said he couldn’t do it. That it wasn’t worth it. That he was wasting his book smarts.
Which is why he still goes to the library to read everything. From history to science. Just to keep his mind sharp even if he doesn’t actively use the knowledge. He’d feel like he’s proving her right if he started forgetting.
Someone clears their throat and Ray looks up to see that it’s Norman.
“Something stronger this time?”
“Yeah, just a little.”
Norman pours him a glass of red wine. Ray sips in small quantities.
“The few mistakes weren’t really noticeable, you know. It could’ve passed for the actual song.” Norman says. Of course he knows when Ray feels bothered.
“Should you be saying that as my Boss? And you noticed, so that means it’s noticeable.”
Norman smiles about to speak. Ray cuts him off.
“I already know what you’re going to say. You’re a bartender right now, okay.” He laughs a little. It’s humourless.
“No, right now I’m your friend. And as your friend, I didn’t take you for the type to agonise over mistakes.”
He would be right, if it were anything else. He says as much. Ray’s head feels a little fuzzy, he takes a sip of water to rid the feeling. He doesn’t think getting tipsy would be any good anymore. Which, now that he thinks about it, is counter productive to his earlier goal.
Norman leans near him casually, “You can talk about it if you want.”
Ray takes a breath, “Remember what I said about pursuing what you want?”
“Yeah?”
“I was originally supposed to major in sciences. My mom freaked out on me when she heard I wanted to play music. She’s okay now though, we talked it out. It’s just- I was trying so hard. Whenever I make mistakes I feel like she was right, back then.”
Norman pats Ray’s hair, and it shouldn’t make him feel as safe as it does.
“Do you regret your choice?”
Ray doesn’t wait a beat, “Not at all.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to anybody but yourself. And not to be biassed, but I’m pretty sure those mistakes can be fixed with some sleep.”
Ray’s eyes go wide “How did you-?”
“I look at you a lot, you know. Here’s what, I’ll give you next weekend off.”
“What? No, I can’t do that-”
“That’s not a request.” He sounds so cocky.
Ray clicks his tongue, “Alright then, Boss .”
Norman’s cheeks flush at that.
Good, that was Ray’s intention.
“This shift should finish soon. I’ll walk you home.”
Ray doesn’t get to argue. Norman walks him right up to the door.
“I guess I’ll see you the week after next week?” Ray says.
“Don’t be a stranger. We can meet in between.” He says it softly, shyly.
When Norman turns to leave, Ray takes his hand.
“Thanks.” Rays says.
Norman laughs, “Anytime, Ray.”
Ray watches until he disappears.
As your friend. Why does that make Ray so giddy and anxious at the same time? And the way Norman says his name…
That night, Ray thinks of Norman’s voice, the sand crushed under his palms. He thinks of the gold of the sunset, giddy feelings and anxiety.
He could write a love song about this .
***
“I think I like him.” Ray says to Emma.
She was pretending to be asleep like Ray was all those weeks ago.
She jumps up at the phrase, “I knew it!”
“Now you didn’t.”
“Yeah, yeah. So what are you going to do now?”
“What do you mean? I’m not going to do anything. I don’t want to put myself in a position to get hurt.”
He doesn’t want to love anyone so much like that. It scares him, feels like he’ll be at Norman’s mercy, then. Ray never wants to be at anyone’s mercy.
And the fact that Norman probably doesn’t like him back…
“What if you don’t get hurt?” Emma tilts her head.
“That’s impossible.”
Emma whines, but she says. “If you feel most comfortable like that, I won’t bug you. But be sure that’s what you actually want.”
***
Norman wants to speak to…
***
At the bar once more, Ray forgets his thoughts about liking, and tries his hand at seeing Norman as merely a friend. It works for the better part of two seconds.
“So, “Norman says, “Have you started..?”
“Yes.”
Norman lights up, “Really? Tell me about it.”
“It’s a secret.” Ray smiles, trying to hide the anxious feeling growing within him once more.
“Then do you like it?”
Ray clenches and unclenches his fists under the counter, “That, I do.”
***
Norman is at his door. Ray almost loses it, but keeps his cool. Ray's heart is beating manically until he sees the redness under Norman's eyes.
"Hi." Norman says. He’s holding a folder full of paper.
"Woah, are you okay?"
Ray has a feeling he knows partially what this is about from the phone calls Norman kept leaving to take on some days and how drained he looked. In response, more tears gather in Norman’s eyes. Buthe blinks them away.
Norman shakes his head, "You know what? I’m sorry to bother you. Maybe I should go back-"
Ray pulls Norman inside and sighs, "You say that now, after you’re here? Come inside."
He pulls Norman in by the hand and makes him sit on a stool by the island, "Do you want tea? A snack? Anything?"
"Tea will be fine. Thanks." He looks so small, shoulders almost hunched up to his ears.
Ray brews some chamomile since he read somewhere it has calming effects.
"How come you didn't go by one of your other friends- not that I don't want you here. Promise."
"No no I get it. To be honest it's because I wanted to see you. Selfish, right?"
"Not at all."
Ray is selfish too. He wants to see Norman all the time. He wants to be the one Norman leans on. He wants to write him a love song .
"What happened?" He asks.
"Just a fight with my uncle. He's against my dad letting me stay."
"What? Why?"
"I don't know. Maybe he doesn't want me here. But I need to be here. My whole life is here and I don't want to give it up. Is that so bad? Ray, am I being difficult?"
Ray wants to hug him so bad.
"Norman, you're not the one being difficult. This is your own life we're talking about. He can't persuade your dad, can he?"
Norman's silence is enough to make Ray worried for him. It's not fair, Norman is an adult. How long are his parents going to rule over him to this extent? Clearly it's making Norman emotional. Half of him thinks this isn't the only reason why Norman was crying.
"It's late, do you want to spend the night?"
Ray passes the tea to him. But he really wants to pass a hand through Norman's hair. Anything to calm him down. Ray likes to think he has a devil on one side and a demon angel hybrid on the other. There is no pure angel.
But right now, he can't tell which one he's asking this question out of.
Norman stares at his mug, "May I?"
So polite. Ray sighs and he really ruffles Norman's hair this time. His heart skips a beat when Norman leans into it. His hair is so soft.
"I literally asked you so yeah. By the way, what’s in that folder?”
“...My poems. I took them up without thinking. Wanna read some?”
Ray nods.
He reads through them, eyeing the words with raised brows. “These are really good.”
“You think?”
Norman blinks at him. ‘You really think so?”
“Definitely.”
***
Norman wants to speak to Ray.
He wants to write a poem about this feeling. Seeing Ray read through his work felt freeing.
***
"I didn't know you could cook." Normans says.
"I live alone. I’d die on take out so I had to learn." Ray says.
It's silent until Ray finishes. It's just mackerel and noodles. Weird combo but it tastes good.
"If you don't mind me asking…" Norman wipes his mouth, "What's your mom like?"
Ray smiles, knowing where the question comes from. "Well, she's gentle. She didn't like telling me direct answers to problems I had as a kid unless she really needed to. She liked when I took time to figure it out. I wish she would've just comforted me instead sometimes."
He sighs.
"You seem close." Norman smiles. But he looks sad again."When she… how did you persuade her that you could do music?"
He could've asked that in the first place if he wanted to know.
"I showed her what I learned. I told her what I intended to do with my life and how I was going to do it."
"And what did she do?"
"She accepted what I said. My mom knows she couldn't dictate my whole life so she apologised for how she reacted. I was happy she trusted me enough. It must've been hard. I'm not a parent. But I see it, they worry, you know?"
Norman hums.
Ray continues, "Even then, they're going to have to let us grow up eventually. Don't feel bad for that, Norman."
"I don't know how you do it, but you know just what to say to me."
And for once, his smile feels real.
“I can tell you love your dad.” Ray says, “So I think you need to have a proper talk with him face to face. I’m sure he’ll understand."
"Yeah, I'll do that."
They eat in comfortable silence.
***
"I'll sleep on the grou- stop looking at me like I'm an alien!" Ray says.
"It's your house. I feel like I'm imposing already."
They've been going around in circles for half an hour. Ray's had enough.
"Alright, you wanna share?"
Norman's face goes a beautiful shade of red when Ray gets onto the bed.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, unless I'm crossing a line-"
"No, that's not it." Norman, wearing one of Ray's old jerseys and his own pants.
"But there's one magic password for this to work."
Ray looks at him, and he feels very spooked, "What's this magic password…?"
"No homo. I’m wearing socks."
Silence ensues. And then they're both laughing.
"You're." Ray's gasping for air, " You're so ridiculous, you know that?" Ray says.
Norman's face is red from laughing,"Do you hate it?"
Ray is surprised he remembers.
"No, it's cute."
"You think I'm cute? That's definitely not what you said last time."
Ray hides in a pillow, "Oh my god, I'm going to hit you."
It takes them a while to settle down and turn the lights off. But they do settle, like teenagers at a sleepover. Ray never thought it would end up like this. He feels so comfy. Why is being around Norman so comfortable?
And he just knows that in the future, it’s gonna hurt so much more.
***
People say Norman is cold and ruthless.
Ray doesn’t say what they say. Makes Norman warm inside.
***
When Ray wakes up, there's a weight on his chest. At first he panics because he thinks it's a sleep paralysis sensation until he hears a sigh, an unintelligible but cute mumble and a groan. Ray doesn't need to open his eyes to know what's happening. But instead of panicking, he wants to stay like this. It feels nice.
And then he opens his eyes, and Norman's wide awake and he hasn't moved.
That does spook him.
"Uh..Good morning." Ray says casually.
Norman discreetly removes himself, and Ray's tempted to pull him back in. Would that be too much?
"Can the morning go away?"
Ray laughs, "No it can't. And I have a class today."
Things to do. Things to do. How he wishes he could sleep in. Norman groans.
Ray huffs. "Don't be like that, you'll make me want to stay."
"Ah, so it’s working?"
"Shut up. I'll make you something before I leave."
And before Norman inevitably leaves too.
Is this okay? They're awfully comfy with each other. Ray's not blind to how domestic this looks. He decides now's not the time to think once more.
***
Ray is stuck with making breakfast.
"Your bedhead is adorable. You look like a little kid." Norman yawns his way into the kitchen.
Ray blushes and ruffles his own hair, "Stop looking."
Norman laughs. “I do what I want.”
Ray could get used to this. But he shouldn't because it isn't real.
***
Norman leaves before him, thanking him more than he should. But at the door, he stops.
"Ray, come here for a second."
Ray comes dumbly, "Okay…"?
Norman hugs him, "Thanks so much."
He smells nice. Ray hugs him back.
"You idiot, you said thanks already."
Ray goes to class after a while. He takes his notes and it's all well. But he has the urge to play. He ends up at the piano at school and comes up with another part of the song. It seems almost done.
Then he goes to a cafe with Gilda and Emma.
"You seem different." Emma says.
Ray pauses, "Do I?"
Gilda's glasses spark in the light, "Afterglow."
Ray nearly drops his phone, "Don't say weird shit like that."
Emma rolls over laughing and the whole back of the cafe is watching them. He explains that Norman spent the night. And that everything was PG-13!
***
Ray's head is pounding. Has been since morning. It only got worse.
Which sucks since he's been slacking on his daily reading. He planned to get back into the throw of things this weekend so he reads the book anyway. It's a book explaining how different parts of the brain affect moods. It/s under the biopsychology banner.
He presses a thumb between his brows. Barbara keeps looking at him.
“You don’t look too good,” She unfolds her legs and as if that will help her look at him better, “First time I’ve seen you space out.”
“First time for everything.” Ray shots back.
“Should I tell Boss to let you leave?” Cislo offers. He’s playing with a rubix cube. If Ray was feeling any better, he would’ve offered to do it with him.
“No, it’ll only bother him. I can manage.”
His shift will be up soon, and he doesn’t want to take another day off after he got the week off last week. He’ll feel like a burden.
Barbara still watches him but sighs, “Alright.”
But it turns out Ray won’t have his way with anything today. Norman comes strolling in, smiling. Ray better act like nothing’s wrong.
“Good night.” Norman says. His office is at the door opposite this room. Ray barely ever sees him go in there.
“Night” Cislo says the same time Ray does.
Though Cislo and Barbara have this look of awe at everything they see Norman.
But Barbara is watching Ray which Ray wishes she wouldn’t because Norman watches them both.
“Something wrong?” He asks. He’s still smiling, but it feels a bit guarded. He acts differently in front of the others and even in this haze, Ray feels special.
“No, nothing’s up. Except, isn’t it basically morning?” Ray leans back and pretends it doesn’t make his head spin.
Barbara says, “That’s true.”
Norman hums, “Oh, you're right.”
He comes to sit on the couch beside Ray and Barbara and Cislo on the other. They all look at each other in confusion. Norman doesn’t usually come sit with them. He’s either at the bar or at the office. Norman and Cislo and Barbara make small talk for a bit. Ray can’t find the energy to join in, or listen to what they’re saying.
“Now, how is everyone?” He asks.
He’s up to something. Ray narrows his eyes.
“Well I’m good.” Barbara says.
“Great.” Cislo adds.
The pounding is getting worse, “Awesome.” Ray says.
They stare for a long, awkward moment. Norman laughs. Ray looks at him like he’s crazy. He flicks Ray’s head, and he flinches.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“For lying to me.” Norman says with what looks strangely like a pout, “You look like shit. And since when do you ever describe your well-being so blatantly?”
“Oh, well thanks for the compliment.” Ray says dryly.
Norman wordlessly puts a hand on Ray’s forehead and it takes Ray’s entire weak will-power not to lean into it like a child. His hand feels nice and cool.
“You’re burning up. I’m taking you home.”
Panic enters Ray’s eyes, “What? No, I already missed last week-”
“No buts. I am your boss.”
“So now you're my boss.”
Norman smiles, “Exactly.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
Ray is vaguely aware of Barabara and Cislo watching the two of them. But he doesn’t care that much. His head hurts too much.
“I have things to do.” He mumbles weakly at Norman when Norman drags him out by the hand.
Things to do. Things to do.
“And there’s always tomorrow, you know?”
Ray expects Norman to hail a taxi, but instead he goes and gets a silver car parked not too far away and puts Ray in the front seat with his seatbelt.
“But what if tomorrow doesn’t come?” Ray says.
Things to do, things to do. If he can do it today, why leave it for tomorrow?
He must sound very stupid right now. He’s not sure what he’s saying, but he kind of feels like saying anything.
Norman stands by the door for a while, watching Ray with an expression he can’t decipher. As hard as latin written backwards. Norman passes a hand over Ray’s forehead and lifts his bangs off his one eye, rubbing at his eyebrow. Ray lets him.
“Well then we’ll hope tomorrow comes. Together.”
Ray likes that. ‘Together’ sounds nice.
He’s vaguely aware of when they reach his house. Ray hands Norman his key and lets him in.
Ray knocks out like a light when he hits his pillow.
***
Ray wakes with a start. His head is pounding, everything feels too hot.
“Woah, easy there. You’ll fall off your bed.” A voice.
When Ray registers, he yawns, “Emma? How come you're here?”
“Norman called me this morning. Said you might want me here.”
And Norman is right, but…
“Where’d he go?”
“He’s in the kitchen struggling to boil cup noodles.”
Ray laughs. “Thanks for coming, Emma.”
“No problem.” Emma takes his temperature. “Looks like it went down a little. Only a little though. I’m not letting you do any work today.”
He whines. And he will deny that later. That’s right, he wants them both here. After that, they didn’t let Ray leave his room. So they all ate cup noodles in Ray’s room.
“Thanks,” Ray Says to Norman.
Norman raises a brow, “Why?”
“Obviously for bringing me home, or whatever.”
“Always.”
Ray blushes and looks away.
***
Ray recovers fairly quickly. But Emma still won’t let him read anything, so he opt to finish the piano composition. It flows easier than it ever has. And before he knows it, he’s reached an end.
The song, it’s finished. He can’t help feeling just a little sad about it. But he’s going to have to tell Norman about it soon. Hopefully he would like it…
He’s never had so much fun playing piano before. It’s almost as if he wasn't even having fun before. He wants to keep this feeling.
***
He texts Norman a few days later, ‘ Hey’
‘I finished the composition. When’s the next time we can meet?’
The response takes a minute, but in that minute Ray’s panicking.
‘!!’ He says at first, ‘Tomorrow? Before the Casino opens. I can’t wait to hear it. Once you’re feeling okay.’
‘I am.’
Ray barely sleeps that night.
Next morning, Norman is there, bright and early at ten o’ clock with the doors wide open.
He lets Ray in.
Ray goes to sit by the familiar piano, but it’s bright and early. It feels like the first time they met, coming full circle.
“Uh, I’m going to start now.”
Norman laughs, “No need to be so nervous.”
Ray plays. He rehearsed it a million times. It’s not jazz. It’s not soft and mellow at first. It sounds scared, then it becomes hesitant, then it becomes quiet, then loud. It’s all in one, all the things Ray feels combined. And he feels alive when he plays the chords.
Yes . He wants to think. This is what it feels like to love. This is what having fun feels like. And he’s smiling.
He thinks of Norman’s request the first time. He thinks of holding his hand. He thinks of gripping the sand, and watching him smiling. Wishing it were happier. I want to make him happy . He thinks about the hug, and all the times Ray’s wished to give him one. He thinks about seeing tomorrow together with him.
He thinks about what else he wants to say in this piece, and all he finds is his chest full of gold, like the sunlight. And by the end, when Ray looks up, Norman has the most open look he’s ever had on his face. It’s flushed, a hand over his heart.
“Ray…” He comes in closer, “That was beautiful.”
“Well?” Ray smirks, “Is your heart racing?”
Norman blushes then, and mutters. “It has been, for a while now..”
Norman suddenly gets a call, after that. The moment feels wasted when Norman tells him he’ll have to leave because of the call. But Ray only smiles and says nothing.
***
“Do you think I was too much?” Ray asks, randomly.
Emma gasps, “What? No! You weren’t.”
“But it’s been days and he still hasn’t gotten back to me.”
Ray’s actually texted him a few times, but he hasn’t seen them yet. Is he avoiding him?
***
Ray doesn’t see him at the casino for a bit either.
Maybe he hates him. Maybe he was only using him. It hurts .
“The boss has been so busy these days.” Barbara says off-handedly.
“I think he is planning something.”
Ray watches her closely, and he thinks she knows he likes Norman. Thanks , he wants to say. But that’s probably just a lie.
But instead, he smirks, “I wonder what.”
He buys Barbara her favourite drink as thanks for the lie.
***
“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
“I said no.”
Emma sighs, “I don’t want to be pushy. But I know you, and really, are you okay with this loving from afar? Would you be okay if he went out with someone else? If the answer is yes, I won’t bother you. But to me, you look absolutely miserable.”
“I’m not-”
He kind of is.
Ray ponders on what she said. That can’t be true, right?
“Are you scared you’ll get hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
“..Yes.”
“Which one is stronger?”
Ray’s gaze snaps to hers. “I-”
“Don’t tell me the answer.” She shakes her head. “I want you to ponder on it.”
***
Ray ponders, and ponders and ponders. But really, he’s known the answer all along.
***
It’s by chance that Ray sees him in the supermarket. And as soon as he sees him, Ray’s unto him.
“Norman!.”
Norman looks surprised, “Ray, long time no see.”
Ray furrows his brow. “Let me get this out of the way. Have you been avoiding me?”
Norman looks shocked, “What? No.”
“Promise?”
They’re outside the store now.
“Promise.”
Ray hugs him without thinking like a maniac, “Thank god. I thought you hated me.”
His head is snug in Norman’s neck, and he doesn’t let go because his face must be super red. He’s probably tearing up.
Norman hugs him back, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t avoiding you. There’s something I wanted to tell you though.”
“I want to tell you something too.” Ray says.
“I-”
Norman shushes him, “Let’s go back to the Casino again. Then we’ll tell eachother.”
***
“Play it again.” He says.
Ray blushes. But he does. Somewhere along the way, Norman rests his head on Ray’s shoulder.
Ray’s not in a suit like he was last time. He’s just Ray. Norman is just Norman. Two people who know what they want with their lives, but are scared to reach for it. Ray’s heart is beating. He can feel Norman smiling.
At the end, it’s silent for a while.
“I want to hear it now. I want to hear what you have to say.” Norman whispers.
Ray sucks in a breath, he’s really going to do this.
For the second time, Ray is going to try to confess.
“Promise you won’t run away?”
“Promise.”
Ray thinks of every moment they had. He can do this.
“I realise I don't like liking people more than they like me.” Ray mumbles, heart in mouth.
He can feel the weight of Norman listening like he feels the weight of his head on Ray’s shoulder.
“But fuck, I like you so much I think I might die. I know you might not feel the same but I just had to put it out there.”
Norman takes a hold of one of his shaking hands, squeezes it tight.
“Now look at who's saying cheesy things with a straight face.” Norman whispers.
Ray groans. Is that all you have to say? He’s about to say so when Norman leans on and presses a kiss to his cheek.
“Are you a fool? I like you too.”
He turns Ray by the shoulders, brings his hands to both sides of his face like he’s holding a gold stone. Ray wants to say something, but all his words get stuck between the spaces of his heart beat.
“I’ve wanted to do this for a while now. I wanted to do this since the first time I heard you play a song in this room. I made excuses to see you more. I couldn't decide whether I'm your boss or a bartender or your friend, so I chose all. I like making you laugh- Ray, do you know what you do to me?”
Ray finally finds the words, leans right into Norman’s space.
“Stupid Norman.” His voice wobbles more than he’d hoped. He’s so relieved, “Then why were you not responding to my text?”
Norman’s eyes opened wide, “I’m sorry. If I did, I would come running to see you. But I needed to do something first. Cross my heart. I had a heart to heart with my dad and uncle,,, and now I get to keep the casino and do a course in literature..”
“What?”
“You heard me. This is thanks to you saying to stand up for what I want. I proved it to him. I showed him my writing. ”
Ray is at a loss for words, but he's smiling.
“Now Ray, will you allow me?”
Ray’s head is all over the place.
“Norman, allow what?” So vague.
“Allow me to love you.”
Ray nods, “Only if I’m allowed to love you back. I wrote a love song for you, damn it.”
And one moment there is space between them, the next moment. There is none. They are kissing. Norman’s lips are soft. Softer than he’s ever hoped they were. Norman’s hands are on his cheek bones, he keeps caressing them like he’ll disappear. But Ray brings his hands to Norman’s neck, to his jaw, so he’ll know that no, Ray isn’t going anywhere.
They move back to catch a breath and then they kiss again. They kiss until Ray’s lips feel tingly.
“Now I know the words.” Norman mumbles against his lips, “To the poem I tried to write. The one I couldn’t, for the longest time.”
Ray smiles at him, having no clue what he’s rambling about, “God, you’re a sap.”
“Aren’t we both?”
“Can’t argue with that.”
One day, Ray left this without a hand to hold. Thought made him open for hurt and pain alone. Thought it was foolish. That losing passion for piano was inevitable.
That it was one of his many things to do.
He leaves that night with a hand tucked in his. He wants to play more songs. Now he knows why all those people become fools. Love is that way, sometimes. Hope is that way sometimes.
Ray wants to feel it again and again.
***
Norman picks up the pen one more time. And for once, the words flow like that magic of Ray’s notes. Tomorrow, he will show it to him. Because they’ll see tomorrow, together again.
One not so quiet night
Under the stage's light
These words take flight
With your distinct melody
How you try so hard
To compose a love song
For me…
Without that splendid black suit
With pianist’s perfect hands
You whisper our truth so imperfect
Until the lights shut off,
'Til the crowd runs home
And all left behind is you
Whom I love
So much more than you know
~To Compose A Love Song~
By ShootingStarsAtNight
Fin.