Chapter Text
“why are we here?” as i open the song book and flip to some pages.
“to sing?” the lad answered, questioning.
“i don’t sing. will you rap for me, then?”
“what? i don’t sing too. i write.”
“oh yeah? what if i told you that i make music?” anyway, how did i end up being with this guy again?
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the name’s zanka. bachelor of arts in literature, major in literary and cultural studies student. the typical one, who has a hobby that the connection to it is not making any sense. i love doing disc jockey stuff, i want to produce music someday, but now, surviving college is top priority.
i grew up in a family of educators, i don’t see myself as one, so i choose a life that they can somehow accept for the time being. my first year is quite fun, it is like a discovery. a foundation for something i really love. theories, culture, and genres, such as those that discuss gender studies or diaspora, taught me how to make music.
sophomore is challenging because this is where my artistic juices is being tested. i almost give up college and just continued my dumb hobby, forget everything, break the rules, but i got a glimpse of hope from some people who see what i have is an exceptional talent, never called it as trash. i am an easy person when being complimented and adored.
now that i am in my third year of acting as a good son, secretly, i am working on everything on my own, under the things that favor me, and i know that will benefit me in the future. so if there is stuff that doesn’t concern me, i am not interested.
“zanka, my favorite man in the world!” it is riyo, the only woman in my life whom i trust my plans with. the only one who supports my ‘stupid hobby’, as my mother and my sister call it.
“riyo, perhaps you're free this weekend?” i asked immediately. when i received her high five.
“yes, i am. do you need my angelic voice for the nth time again?” woman who is a big talker about herself, you hear.
“yes, but this time, to make vocal background samples only. i haven’t done with my arrangements yet, my research papers are ganging up on me for two weeks straight.” i let out a heavy sigh. my hands are itchy to click a synthesizer, not a computer keyboard.
“got it, same time on your place, right? if samples are only you are working that day, will you be my date after that as your payment?” she poked my right chin and raised her eyebrows, waiting for my approval.
“okay, but i am not drinking this time. my sister might visit me to check on me.”
“ugh! is your sister obsessed with you that much or something?”
“she’s just... doing our mom a favor.”
riyo made a skeptical face, “guess your mom is the one who is obsessed, your sister is just-”
“can we stop talking about my family now? let’s just eat. i am beat.” riyo just hysterically laughed at me. it is not like what she’s saying is untrue, being like me is that complicated at some point. i am used to it, but i am not saying i am going with the flow with my family's accord. i will live this life under my hands in control with some rules they made for me.
saturday came, riyo in my dorm room, in her party outfit already. we’re only doing eight vocal samples, and i am telling you this girl's voice is really perfect for my music.
riyo likes singing but she’s not confident, she is a ballerina, fyi. we become partners for a literary analysis thing once, we argue at first but we finish the task in time. we had drinks and little get to know each other, i thought our relationship will become romantic but she said she doesn’t see me as one. i am a friend, and that says everything. did that hurt me? not at all. i don’t like her as a girl, i like her for being free, supportive and a best friend of mine, like a sister.
and we come to this kind of situation-ship, i am making music, she will sing for me. like a pact between friends that doesn’t need anything to give back in return, well, let us say, conditionally.
the vocal chops are now saved. i am preparing to be her escort tonight. not too casual or formal, enough to match her fit so everyone can see that i am her date, indeed.
“what will be my facade this time?” i asked her straight. i am spraying some perfume.
“hmm, not too clingy, but you can rest your hand on my waist. we need to show a strong impression at first, then you can leave me after an hour.” she smiled, with a big grin, you wouldn’t guess what she is planning.
i don’t trust her at all, maybe she just wants someone who will notice us for some reason. leave an impression, or she wants to see a reaction? there is nothing i can do about, it is not my business to know everything yet being one hundred percent to make it believable, then i will lock in. did i already mention that we can be friends with benefits for good purposes? cause we are.
“we’re here. did you bring one of your usbs for me to hand to the sound techs?” she stopped the engine of her car and put some blush on, i think.
“you know the drill.” i simply respond and hand a yellow usb to her. “can i wait for it to play before going home?”
“sure you want to see the people be crazy in the party on your music, right?” she clicked her tongue.
i followed her lead. my right arm and hand on her waist as she instructed. she reduced enough space between us to make it more convincing. we both give our greetings to her so called friends, meeting them for the first time doesn’t bother me. that shows how outgoing the girl i am faking going out right now. hands down on you, riyo.
what i admire about her tonight, she knows what she’s doing. the woman of her words. we are sharing one alcoholic glass, part of the act as an intimate couple, but all i did was sip. this is her kind of drink, really.
“hold this for me, sweety. i will visit the sound tech room, wait for your masterpiece to play, okay?” after she whispered that, she winked at me. i got chills, who’s man is this girl? not mine, never.
i followed her with my eyes as i search for a perfect spot where i can see everyone’s moves and reactions. this is my favorite part of the night whenever she takes me to a club or anywhere will make my music introduce to a public audience. she really is a supportive angel in disguise.
the music shifts smoothly with the familiar producer tag as an intro. my producer tag. i already found riyo dancing in the crowd, singing along with it. geez, this girl is beyond belief. i nod at her after our eyes met, almost clapping for my victory for sure, then she just continued dancing.
i also observed how everyone jams with my music. you don’t believe how the adrenaline of dopamine is crawling inside my stomach. i am so happy. damn, man, that is my music playing in the speakers. volume high, people are dancing like crazy maniacs. who made it? man, yours truly!
my last track is now playing, sign for me to wrap up and go home. i already get enough of the crowd enjoying my work, already satisfied of the hype.
leaving the club’s bright doors, I was about to book a cab when someone just grabbed me by the wrist.
“zanka rai rabinowitz nijiku?” i look behind the unfamiliar voice who just called my full government name. “ahh... hello?” it was a guy in locs i never knew in my entire existence. i gave him a demented look.
“and you are?” i pull my arm back.
“jabber wonger. from history class,” doesn’t even ring a bell.
“what could i do for a complete stranger like you?” i raised an eyebrow at him. i hope he can sense me being muddled.
“can i talk to you for a minute?” a minute, you say? seems like even an hour is not enough for his business, i can tell. his face shows that he has a serious matter with me.
going home early won’t be possible for tonight, i guess. i hope riyo will be alright.