Your Song, My Guitar, Au Revoir || Solo

look at me, i'm a reflection of what you wanna be
Queen on the throne, none of you pawns can humble me

You probably know this, but I suck at playing the guitar. What you probably didn't know was why I tried to learn anyway.

Looking back it's actually kind of funny to think about. The first time I heard someone playing was back when I used to stare at the many TVs inside the display cases at Tracy's electronics store. That's the earliest I can remember, anyway. It's not like it's a particularly good memory either, but... I remember every detail like it was yesterday, down to even the color of the cars waiting for the light to go green at the intersection nearby. It was stupidly cold and humid. Gray sky up above looked like it was just about ready to tear itself open and rain down on top of all the melting snow, only to freeze over when the sun set a couple of hours later.

I was still a kid back then. After mom and dad died I didn't really know where to go or what to do. Foster care didn't seem very appealing at the time -- as I'm sure you could guess -- so I did what I thought was the next best thing... which was to, of course, try my luck on the streets. To this day I can't really tell whether or not that was the right call but... ah, whatever. That doesn't really matter now in the grand scheme of things.

Back then though staring at those TVs was really the only escape I had. Most kids at that age loved cartoons and I was no different. Sad part was Tracy's never palyed sound. The TVs would run and I'd watch the channels outside what at that point seemed like a larger than life window, trying to decipher what those goofy cartoon characters were mutely saying through how their mouths moved. Got quite good at lip reading after a while, honestly.

But that one time, though, they did play sound.

Evening. February 7th, 2062. They'd switched from Cartoon Network to the music channel, MTV or whatever it went by at that point and I was just... I froze. I have no idea why it hit me so hard -- the track that was playing wasn't even good, just some corny throwback from the late twentieth century. But it did, and honestly I can't help but wonder if it's because you found me at that exact moment. I bet I looked hilarious with that whole childish excitement I had going on while looking like an absolute sewer rat.

"Heh, good times," I mutter quietly to myself, my thoughts meekly escaping my mind and slipping into reality.

Thirteen whole years went by since then and it's like I'm staring at that very same depressingly gray sky all over again. This time, though, the music wasn't coming from some TV inside a display case.

I didn't really know who you were when you took me in. First thing I can remember was being scared shitless. I'm sure you'd be the first to admit it wasn't exactly unjustified either; look you in the face and all you'd see are beady blue lights for eyes and a metal maw for a jaw. Anybody'd feel a little intimidated when that decided to randomly start crying and hug you with the strongest vice grip you've ever felt in your entire life, short as mine had been.

Don't know what was funnier. Us crying because of very different reasons or the guy working the counter at Tracy's calling the police on you.

Before I knew it I was living with you. It was an old little apartment over in the Bronx that stunk of stale beer and sweat... but it sure as hell beat sleeping in a box in some alley outside. You gave me your shitty half-broken bed which you bought new sheets for with what little money you had while you took that dirty couch we both silently agreed ought to have been thrown into a bonfire. We had a TV with only three channels on, an age-old radio that kept glitching out every fifteen or so minutes, a busted fridge we kept repairing every two days, and no hot water to speak of.

It was a shitshow.

But it was our shitshow.

I still sometimes think about it. How that place made me feel. I lost everything when I was a kid, only for you to slink into my life and give me somewhere I belonged. 

Can't help but wonder if you decided to teach me how to play the guitar because of how we met, honestly. Christ, I was so fucking bad at it. Broke like six strings in three days. I kept wanting to learn, though. You kept trying to teach me. We started from the basics. Tablature, the chords, how to arch my fingertips properly... the whole shebang. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition. Then came trying to play some songs, again from the late twentieth century since we both knew what good music was. Trial and error. And, of course, more repetition.  Queen. Led Zeppelin. Metallica. I could probably play some of their songs in my sleep by now.

But there was this one tune that I just couldn't, for the life of me, get right. It wasn't by any of those ancient bands. Hell it wasn't even heard by anybody other than you and me. It was something you wrote, as incomplete as it was. Something I heard you play and was dead set on learning and helping you finish.

The song wasn't even hard, but-

"It took me thirteen years,"

I still tried, though-

"And I finally got it."

It was under this very same banal gray sky that I let my fingers roam the strings of the guitar in my lap right now. It was just as cold as it had been back then but with how much I've changed over the years I couldn't even feel the freezing wind tickle at my face. I just... played. This one singular song which was nothing but at the same time everything.

And out of all the songs you taught me how to play, this was the most important one of them all.

"Au Revoir."

If somebody asked me why the song's name was in French I'd just tell them the same bullshit story you told me about some ex you were sad over years ago. Honestly given your track record I kind of even believed you back then. But now though, with you gone? I think I know why.

When I first got the call I wasn't really surprised. Both you and I were perfectly aware this was going to happen sooner or later.

I just...

I guess I just hoped you could hear the finished version before it did.

Instead I was playing to nobody but myself, seated on the roof of the very same school you pulled some strings to get me into. It actually wasn't until recently that I found out the guy who came to see me in juvie three years ago to get me into U.A. had been sent through your recommendation.

I'm not about to pretend that you ditching me for some revenge mission has been forgiven and forgotten, but... it's nice to know you were still looking out for me. In your own weird way.

And now here I was, playing the song you started and I finished, in a school that you got me into and I am about to graduate... on the day that you died and I am left alive to mourn you.

It's funny how life worked sometimes.

I kept replaying the same song over, and over, and over again. I'm not sure how long I played. I just did. If my fingers burned I didn't feel it. If I was starting to actually get cold I never noticed. All I did was play the guitar. Every single chord, not a single shortcut, all while with closed eyes I bobbed my head to the rhythm that came straight from the heart.

There were no tears. I knew you wouldn't want me to cry, so I didn't. Despite everything that happened between us, I wanted to. But I didn't.

You were and always will be the reason I am alive and for that I will be eternally grateful to you.

And even though I know I never needed to outright tell you this, I'll do it now anyway.

"I love you to hell and back, Nathan North. Thank you, for everything... and until we meet again. Sincerely and forever yours..."

...

...

...

"...your fiery little firecracker."

WC: 1442 || @n/a || Notes: Goodbye, Jaeger.