Make A Mistake With Me - Prologue, Part 1: Blue Monday - by MistakeAnon
>Coffee and cigarettes >That’s about what you had to your name, at the moment. >You are Anonymous, and you are stuck in the band room at the moment. >Well, less “stuck”, more “better here than anywhere else.” >Your studio flat, quite frankly, reeked like corpses and was covered in trash bags. >So much for fresh start after juvie. >Sure enough, you skipped town and arrived to this city. >Hell, you even enrolled into the local high school (which was a miracle in itself.) >But it looks like old habits die hard, especially when there’s no motivation for change. >In just few short weeks, your new apartment started looking like a landfill. >Thus, there was nothing waiting for you there. >And it’s not like you had made any friends to hang out with during your time in CHS. >Really, most of the students avoided you like a plague, and rumors run rampart. >Which was just fine with you. >After all, it’s what made your current situation possible. >Cigarette on the lips, thermos of tar-esque coffee next to you, and an old guitar in your hands. >You were as close to heaven as you had been in six months. >You feel a slight tingle as your fingers fly on the neck, sliding up on an open A-string. >Whorehouse Blues echoes in the silence of the dusk-dyed school. >Thought you doubted the pair of raspberry-colored eyes looking at you recognizes the song. >You hum to the tune you were playing and act like you didn’t notice. >Whoever was spying you from behind the door wasn’t exactly Big Boss. >But other than the occasional hushed whisper, she wasn’t bothering you. >Still, you couldn’t but to overhear the conversation… or, at least, one side of it. >Sounded like she was on the phone. >”T-the band room’s a no-go! Someone’s in there! Someone weeeeeeird!” >”No, I can’t! He’s, like, three times my height! For realsies!” >”You do it, Aria!” >”N-no, but, I---“ >”Nuh-uh! You are!” >Oh boy. Looks like you had stumbled upon something troublesome. >You took a drag from your cigarette and heaved the smoke through your teeth. >This might turn ugly if things went south. >The only thing you could hope for was that this wasn’t some student-utilizing hunt for delinquents. >If it was just some idiot looking for a place to stash her booze, that you could cope with. >Hell, you might have tried to buy a bottle. >But if this was connected in any way to that Principal… >Shit, the memory of your first meeting still gave you shivers. That ma’am was not to be messed with. >But! Back to the present. >Namely, the door of the band room slamming open. >”S-smoking on the school’s premises is, like, illegal, you know!?” >Hoo boy. >Blue and purple. Hair on an energetic ponytail that bounced to the rhythm of her breathing. >Whoever this girl was, at least she knew how to leave an impression with her style. >Still, the confident image was marred by how she was shaking. >Her whole body seemed to scream how confronting you was the last thing that she wanted to do. >But seeing, and more importantly, smelling her left you relaxed. >That smell that hung around her… you knew it all too well. >Small grin forms on your lips. “I know. I just don’t care. What’cha gonna do, brother?” >Clearly not the answer she was looking for. The girl tilts her head in confusion. >However, she recovers just as quickly. >”I’ll… I’ll report to Principal Celestia! And I’m not a brother, but with the Student Council, you know?” >Wow. It had been a while since you had heard a lie that bad. “No you won’t. In fact, you’re not with those goons. From what I can see, you’re just trying to make me leave.” >Bullseye. The girl recoils in a surprise. >”H-how did you know!?” “Mostly judging by the state of your clothes, and your smell. It’s been a while since you showered, huh?” >Another bullseye. She was now holding onto the door as a support. >Looks like you had hit closer to home than she wanted. >“Is it… like, that obvious?” >She looks rather embarrassed. >The sight was endearing enough that you have to take another drag just to hide your grin. “As a former homeless, it strikes a chord with me. Dunno about others.” >This seems to surprise her in a different way. She leans a bit closer, eyes wide. >”Wait… you’re homeless, too?” >You shrug and continue strumming the vaguely familiar chords. “Not anymore. I used to be, though. That’s why it’s easy to spot someone in the same situation.” >You chuckle a bit. “Thanks for the confirmation though. Now it’s clear I have nothing to worry about.” >That made her expression quickly sour. >It seemed that now that her lie had been busted, she no longer had any idea what to do. >”Aww, now I went and messed up. Aria’s gonna kill me. For realsies, this time.” >The sight before you made the old guitar in your hands seem real interesting all of a sudden. >Damn girl had the perfect “kicked puppy” moment going on. >You almost felt like Indy before the Arc of Covenant. >Keep your eyes shut, Anon! >And so, a moment of awkward silence falls over the room. >You do your best to fill it with the sound of your guitar, but it’s not really working. >So, eventually, you succumb. To a degree. “You know, I’m not moving from this room… but I don’t mind other people here.” >This catches her attention. “So if this is your hangout or whatever, I’m not driving you out.” >”Really? Even if I’m…” >She left those words hanging in the air stiffly. >Looks like someone else had their collection of bones in their closet. “Don’t care, Blue. You don’t pry into my business, I don’t pry into yours. Deal?” >The girl before you smiles for the first time. She nods enthusiastically. >With a little bounce in her step now, she enters the band room and looks around. >However, just as quickly, she looks back at you, a little confused look on her face. >”I’m Sonata, by the way. Not Blue.” “Whatever you say, sister.” >”And I’m not your sister, either. At least I hope I'm not!” >You heave a heavy sigh and grimace. This was going to be a chore. “I know that. It’s just… it’s just a saying. Don’t mind me.” >”Alrighty, then I won’t!” >The blue-haired girl, Sonata, is quick to lose her interest in you. >Instead, she makes a beeline straight for your thermos, with curious sparkle in her eyes. >She peers into the container, only to draw immediately away like the sight had burnt her face. >”W-what’s that!? It looks, like, boiling asphalt!” >You smile a bit smugly. “Never seen real coffee before, I take it?” >”I’ve seen coffee, and that’s not it! That’s… that’s just something evil!” “Never knock something before you try it. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that?” >Your lopsided joke has a bit of a surprising effect. >Sonata’s expression droops, and she shuffles around awkwardly. >”Umm… I dunno. I don’t remember my mama.” >Well shit. >Now you went and made things depressing. >… Or so you thought, but it looks like the girl’s forgotten about it already. >Indeed, she’s busying herself by pouring some of your coffee to the cup. >And, surprisingly enough, she’s humming along with the tune of your instrument. >Chuckling in relief, you return to strumming your guitar. >At some point, Whorehouse Blues had morphed into Jessica. >You hadn’t even really realized it. >Was it because of this girl’s perky aura? Sure, she still seemed bit uncomfortable around you, but… >Underneath that shifty way she held herself seemed to shine some sort innocence. >At least enough to brighten your mood a bit. >”Eugh! Uagh! G-gaah!” >You are snapped from your thoughts by sounds of pure disgust. >Looking at its source, you see that Sonata has already had a taste of the coffee. >She’s currently writhing on the floor, doing her best cerebral palsy impression. >”It… It tastes like death! For realsies!” “And yet it makes you feel alive. Grand are life’s mysteries, huh?” >Sonata responds by making puking sounds and wiping her tongue with a napkin. >Eventually Sonata seems to calm down, or, at the very least, get the taste out of her mouth. >She sighs in relief and sits down on one of the amps close by. >You frown at the sight a bit. >It’s not like the girl can weigh that lot, but still, that’s just rude. >She notices your expression, and grins sheepishly. >”So, umm… what’s your name?” >Here comes the forced ice-breaker. “Anon.” >”Anon? I’m Sonata! Nice to meet’cha!” “Yeah, I know. You told me already.” >”Oh! So I did.” >She giggles in delight. >Looks like this one’s easy to amuse, at the very least. >After a moment of silence, she crosses her legs and leans against them. >”So, like, what are you doing here, Anon?” >You grimace again. Looks like small-talk is unavoidable. “What does it look like I’m doing?” >You try to convey your annoyance with your tone. >Such subtle message misses her by couple miles and crashes into some runaway big rig out in Nevada. >”Well, it looks like you’re smoking illegally and hiding away in the band room, playing a guitar.” >Sonata manages to even look proud at her answer. >It was just a rhetorical question, you nitwit. >Don’t look so smug dammit! “I suppose it does. In other words, I came here to be alone.” >”Oh! So, how’s that working out for you?” >If your hands weren’t focused on the strings, you’d have them have a quick pow-wow with your forehead right about now. “Oh, it’s working out great. Just marvelously, in fact.” >Even though your voice is dripping with sarcasm like venom from snake’s fangs, it goes unnoticed. >The blue-haired goof next to you just smiles happily. >You once again focus on the guitar in your hands, trying to ignore the drill-like gaze of the girl. >If she was really supposed to drive you away from this room, she’s not going that good of a job. >… Or, maybe she is. >This silence between you two is getting pretty unbearable. >You eventually decide to break it. “So? What are you actually doing here?” >”Oh, we usually sleep here since the place is unlocked, so Adagio sent me ahead to make sure nobody was here.” >The girl happily blabs on, without a care in the world. >”But since it turned out you were here, she and Aria were like: ‘Get rid of him, now!’ and stuff.” >The happy expression makes way for a pout as Sonata crosses her arms. >”But, like, how am I supposed to do that? You’re huge! And look scary! And—“ >Suddenly, she clamps her hands over her mouth, looking shocked. >Well, it was about time she noticed she had just ratted her true intentions. >You chuckle and turn your attention back to the guitar. “And you just blew your plan, so I have even less intention of moving from here. Way to go, goof.” >”Oh no, what’re we gonna do now? I don’t wanna go back to the streets…” >Ignoring her, you bring the current melody to a close, and let your fingers rest for a moment. >You reach for the still-steaming cup of coffee and take big swig. >The lava-like substance fills your mouth, and for a moment, you feel at peace. >Satisfied, you stump your cigarette in the makeshift ashtray. >All while trying to ignore the girl despairing next to you. >”See, we got kicked out of home few months ago…” “Uh huh.” >You feign disinterest. >It’s not that you’re totally against talking with Sonata, but her situation is none of your business. >Therefore, you pluck a few notes instead, fumbling for any melody to fill the silence. >She simply fidgets her fingers, looking rather downcast. >You can only hope she’s not the type to confine in total strangers. >”We… we did something pretty bad.” >Oy vey. >”We were pretty nasty before. Like, super nasty. And we wanted to use lotsa people for our own gain.” >You didn’t want to hear this. This had nothing to do with you. >Couldn’t she seek a counseling session from someone professional? >You were just a delinquent hiding away in the band room, goddammit! >”But we got caught and then, um… we were punished. They took away what made so dangerous.” >”After that, we’ve been scraping by. It’s been super hard. Everyone hates us, after all…” >You focus on staring at the guitar strings. >The sight of something glimmering in Sonata’s eyes is not something you want to intrude upon. >You have that much respect for her. >”And Adagio and Aria hate everyone else. So nothing’s getting better. Nothing’s fun anymore.” >”It’s not like I wanna go back to way things were. We were mean to each other back then, too.” >Sonata sighs and looks down at her hands. >”I just wish the three of us could still have some fun. Even if it was just us…” >And with that, she falls silent once more. >You’re left to fill the room with some notes that sound grating even to your own ear. >Even if you did tune the guitar before starting. >Strange, that. >Eventually you simply give up, and reach in your pocket for another cigarette. >As you light it up, you glance at Sonata. >Her eyes are now staring at the floor, and her expression could put a whole dog pound to shame. >Goddammit, you were not used to dealing with girls like this. >Why did she just suddenly show a vulnerable side to a guy she barely knew? >Who does that!? >You folded your arms and leaned back your chair. >You stared at the smoke rising from the tip of your cigarette, gilded by the light of the setting sun. >Strangely enough, the sight makes words form your lips. “You know… nobody goes through this life and does everything perfectly.” >Sonata looks at you, surprise written all over her face. >She really didn’t expect that. >Suddenly, Sonata snorts in amusement, and a hint of a smile rises to her lips. >”That’s… Brad Paisley, right?” “Huh?” >”That’s from Brad Paisley’s song, isn’t it? I thought it sounded familiar.” >Now that you think about it, yeah, it was. >You hadn’t even realized that when you spoke it. >Still, the words had felt fitting considering what you had just heard. >At the very least, the words had some positive effect on the girl. >She no longer looked like her pet had been crushed under the body of her dead mother. “So… you listen to Paisley?” >Sonata nods after some hesitation. >”Um, sorta. Adagio wanted us to focus on one genre, but I couldn’t help but to experiment a bit.” >She scratched her cheek, looking a bit embarrassed. >”But, like, I wasn’t really good at singing in any other style, so I just listened to CDs.” >”Since, you know, we were preparing for the competition.” >Suddenly, something hits you. >It was like puzzle-pieces that had been nagging in your head were locked in place. >You had heard about this girl and her friends before. >When you arrived not too long ago, you heard some rumors. >About some sort of “Battle of the Bands” that had happened. >And how some girls participating in it had used some… questionable means. >You never heard any details, but you could guess that one of those girls was now before you. >Suddenly their insistence of sleeping in the band room made all too much sense. “So, you sing, huh?” >To emphasize your actual point, you plucked the first few notes of the song you had just talked about. >”O-oh, um, not really. Not anymore. I just… I just sound terrible now. For realsies.” “Hey, it’s not like I’m Setzer or anything, either. You should sing if you want to.” >Sonata waves her arms hastily. >”It’s alright, really! I’m… I’m fine.” “Oh. Well, suit yourself.” >You shrug and continue playing. It’s a bit of a shame, but you can’t really force the girl. >You let the melody flow from your fingertips. >Its hopeful tones fill the band room, mixing with the orange light pouring in from the outside. >You have to admit, it wasn’t a bad choice at all, considering the atmosphere. >Of course, it would have been better if there was someone to sing along with it, but alas. >Even if she had hummed along with you before, if she didn’t want to sing, that was that. >You just let the first part of the song repeat itself. >It was relaxing in itself, but it was also an invitation. >At the very least, you wanted to let her know that skills or no, she was welcome to join in at any time. >… Even if you didn’t know the reason why you wanted that. >Suddenly, you hear it. >It starts faint, hesitating, almost too quiet to hear. >But as you don’t react to it, it gains some strength surprisingly quickly. >It’s a feminine voice. >And it’s coming from next to you. >”Y-you over think things, you say what if w-we’re not meant to be…” >You glance at Sonata. >The girl’s hiding her face beneath her bangs, and you see a pink flush on her cheeks. >Her fingers are fidgeting faster than before, but it’s from excitement, not shame. >With a faint smile rising to your lips, you take a drag from your cigarette and continue playing. >Soon enough, the two of you are recreating that song you both knew. > [YouTube] Brad Paisley - Make A Mistake With Me (embed) >The further you continue, the more confidence Sonata’s voice gains. >Sure enough, when she gets enough strength behind it, you can’t help but to wince a bit. >It’s bad. Really bad. >You understand why she’d be so hesitant to sing these days. >But at the same thing, you can’t help but to marvel at the earnest passion behind it. >She may sing horribly, but she sings straight from her heart. >It’s been a while since you heard such innocent love towards music itself. >It’s enough to make you forget the lack of skill as you lead you two into the bridge. >You lose yourselves into the music, and let the world around you fade away momentarily. >There’s nothing else important at this very moment. >Just the sound of the old acoustic guitar you’re playing. >And the untrained voice of Sonata accompanying it. >The orange-dyed band room in otherwise empty school. >The smoke of your cigarette slowly rising towards the ceiling. >The cheerful smile spreading to the lips of the girl next to you. >The rhythmic tapping of your foot that you barely even realize. >The soft clapping of Sonata’s hands as she paces herself to the melody. >It all mixes together to create what you can only describe as a “moment.” >It doesn’t matter whether either of you is that great at playing or singing. >What you’re creating right now is still, undoubtedly, music. >After all, it’s coming from two people enjoying what they are doing. >It only takes that much. >Just like that, the awkward pauses and forced conversations are swept aside. >What is left is understanding. >In such a simple way, you’ve found the right tune to connect yourself with this girl. >Human interaction is surprisingly easy, after all. >It doesn’t need much thought put into it. >As long as you can find something you both feel is fun, then it’s alright. >And this song is the discovery you’ve made with Sonata. >You raise your gaze, and notice that the blue-haired girl is staring straight at you. >Gone is the sadness that you saw before. >It has been replaced with, of all things, gratitude. >You’re a bit surprised. >You continue playing, but at the same time, you don’t even focus on your hands anymore. >The same thing seems to happening with her. >You simply look into each other’s eyes. >That raspberry-colored stare is drilling itself into your deepest thoughts. >For some reason, you feel heat overtake your cheeks. >And yet… you don’t break away. >After all, it’s just part of this “moment.” >Nothing needs to be said or done. It’s just the music and the two of you. >And that, as they, is alright. >”Sonata! Just *what* are you screeching in here?” >As before, the door of the band room is slammed open with quite the force. >The sudden interruption makes you strike the wrong chord. >Just like that, the song comes to a jarring halt. >The two of you stare at the girls standing in the door way. >One of them has orange hair the size of the Hindenburg, and a haughty expression. >The other one could make a lemon tree blush in shame with the sourness of her scowl. >It seems the Poofy Haired One is about to berate Sonata some more, but jerks back after seeing you. >”And… who is this?” >She asks, folding her arms and glaring daggers at you. >”Oh! That’s Anon! Anon, this is Adagio and Aria!” >The blue-haired goof next to you has zero ability in reading the mood, it seems. >”Oh. So this is *him*. Sonata, wasn’t there *something* you were supposed to do about… this?” >Adagio makes a much-telling gesture with her hand, waving a little towards you. >This seems to bring Sonata back to the matter at hand, as she grimaces in embarrassment. >”Oh, right. Umm, well, you see—“ “Nah, that’s alright, Sonata. I was just about to leave after this song, anyhow.” >Your words catch her by surprise. >”You were? But, you said…” “I’ve had my coffee and smoked enough to ruin one room. I think that’s a job well done, no?” >You grin at her as you pack away your thermos, and return the guitar to its stand. >As you get ready to leave, Sonata gets up from the amp and walks over to you. >She shuffles a bit awkwardly, but still manages to smile. >”Umm, Anon? That was, like, super fun. For realsies.” “Yeah. I suppose it was. It was a welcome break from playing alone.” >Adagio and Aria look at you two in confusion as you chuckle. >It seems they have no idea what’s going on. >After saying goodbye to Sonata, you head out of the band room, brushing past the two who interrupted you. >Aria merely scoffs at you, but Adagio is giving you a scrutinizing glare. >To be honest, it unnerves you a bit. >You knew girls like her. They were seriously nothing but trouble. >You hurry your steps a bit. The faster you put some distance between you two, the better. >As you are about to exit the band room, you suddenly hear Sonata calling out to you. >”Thanks, Anon! I’m feeling much better now!” >You smile back at her, and give her a small wave. >She enthusiastically waves her hand back. >”I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow!” >Tomorrow, huh? >That was a bit unexpected. >But if you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t… unwelcome. >You hadn’t really made any new acquaintances at the CHS, after all. >As you walk down the corridor, you can still hear the faint sounds of the trio talking with each other. >”Okay, Sonata, you were right. That guy was, ugh, super weird.” >Sounds like you didn’t leave a good impression on Aria. >”I agree with you there… but I noticed a distinct lack of scorn for us. What was up with that?” >It was kinda sad that that was what Adagio paid attention to. >”Oh, I think he, like, transferred here not long ago! He was really fun! Weird… but fun!” >You really didn’t want to hear that from Sonata, of all people. >Eventually even their voices faded away as you got closer to the main entrance. >It was back to the landfill-like apartment with you, but, for some reason, you didn’t mind. >In fact, you were in a much better mood than you had been in a long while. >Humming the tune you had been just playing, you threw around the thermos in your hands. >The smoke on your lips burned with newfound vigor. >You were Anonymous. >Cigarettes and coffee were still just about the only things you had to your name. >But after today… you also had a new friend.