polemical | open post

[He can't help but smile at the apology and the joke that follows, shaking his head as he follows her into the room, not entirely sure where to sit and opting for just leaning against the edge of the desk] No, it's fine. It's... I mean, you can tell someone actually lives here. My room is... [he waves a hand in front of his face as if to brush that off] I don't know, it's like a set piece, it's designed to look like someone lives there, but everything's got a place and nothing is ever out of place.

[Another little shake of his head] And you also just said a lot of names, and I think you're overestimating the things I'm actually allowed to listen to at home and what I've gotten away with listening to elsewhere, and definitely overestimated what I actually know.

[ Someone certainly lives here alright. Someone who gets so distracted from what she's doing by any new thought that she simply puts whatever's in her hands down on the nearest available surface — even if that surface is the floor — and then forgets the item existed completely. The fact that she can find anything at all, ever, is a miracle.

She frowns at him, physically biting down on her lower lip to stop from blurting out something like your mom is a fucking tyrant, which she thinks might be underselling it a little. ]

Well, I mean... You know who the Beatles are, right? [ Right?? ]

[Oh he knows she is, and worse than, but he's not at the point where he can actually say so himself, though he's managed to pass the point where he corrects people if they say so.

Hell, coming from Eddie he might actually agree instead of just staying silent on the matter.

But she doesn't say so, instead just asks a question and that's one he does have an answer to] Yeah, I mean obviously I know the Beatles. [A flicker of a smile] Only time I've ever seen dad have an opposing opinion to whatever mom says is when she tried to claim they were satanic.

Okay. [ She actually heaves a sigh like she really was worried; she doesn't own any Beatles, but she thinks Wayne might have the White album somewhere in his collection. He tends to favor old school country with a little bit of early rock'n'roll, but everyone's parents like The Beatles at least a little bit, right?

Well. Mostly everyone's. ] I wasn't sure. Have you heard Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band?

Definitely not. I only found out they even had more than two albums like... um, way too recently.

[He shrugs, leaning back on his hands] Dad's only got two, Hard Day's Night and, um, Meet the Beatles, I think? [He shakes his head then] and I don't know if he's even still got them, but those are the ones I've heard.

Chris.

[ She looks horrified, like this is legitimately a tragedy or something, and winds up staring at him with huge brown eyes and a slack jaw for probably a little longer than she should before she heaves another sigh and shakes her head. ]

This is appalling. This is obscene. I don't even really like the Beatles and I've heard all their music, you have been deprived of a cultural touchstone. This won't stand. Hand me that.

[ From her spot on the edge of the bed, she waves an imperious hand towards the acoustic propped up in the corner of her room, THIS MACHINE SLAYS DRAGONS painted along the body in cheap white acrylic paint. It had been Wayne's, first, but he gave it to her after coming home more than once to find her trying to replace it on its stand before he got in the door because she wasn't sure she was allowed to touch it. Eventually he took pity on her and told her if she wanted to learn she could just have it, showed her how to do a few chords, and then she was off. ]

[You're going to have to give him a minute Eddie, he's in full on 'does not compute' range now, because he's never in his life had someone so loudly and clearly imply that they're going to play music just for him and he's going to need a moment to actually get that to sink in.]

Wait, what? [The question is almost immediately replaced with a statement of: ] You're serious.

[He does push himself up from his lean to retrieve the guitar in question, passing it over and hesitating only briefly before perching on the foot of the bed instead of returning to lean against the desk.]

Of course I'm serious, I'm always serious. [ Apart from all the times when she's very obviously talking shit, but right now she's not smuggling a smirk in the corner of her mouth, she's stone-faced and making grabby-hands at her guitar until he hands it over.

Muttering direly to herself under her breath, she bends over the guitar when she gets it settled in her lap, fiddling with the pegs and the capo and strumming a few chords as she hums snippets to herself before taking a deep breath and tossing her head to get her hair out of her face. ]

Okay. I don't actually remember all the words. Or the chords. So, take this with a grain of salt, but...

[ Taking a deep breath, she starts strumming, belying every claim about not knowing the chords or the words. ] When I get older, losing my hair...

[To say that Chris watches this with rapt fascination would be an understatement, he's giving her every ounce of attention he has, barely even moving aside from watching first one hand and then the other and then letting his gaze dart to her face for a moment before back to her hands.

It's partly that it's new -or new to him- music, partly it's that he's always a little fascinated by people who clearly both know and enjoy what they're doing, and mostly it's the fact that he's never actually been serenaded before and he's finding himself hopelessly charmed by it, despite the ridiculousness of the lyrics and jauntiness of the tune.]

[ As she gets more comfortable with the chord progressions and how they feel in her hands, Eddie even lets herself brap some of the clarinet parts like they're actually trumpets, bolstered by the wide-eyed expression on Chris' face as he watches her. She's used to being watched as she plays, though usually it's just Wayne who watches her play this guitar — she'll use it whens he's feeling particularly nostalgic, when he asks her to play some of the old folk and country he likes, or when she's trying to write something new and just needs to get the sounds out in the air and not leave them trapped in her head — so it's not as uncomfortable as it might be.

She still fumbles some chords sometimes, and at one point she fucks up the words, too, laughing a ] — stop grinning at me, you're so distracting — [ at him before trying that line again and this time nailing the bit about the electrical wiring and sweater-knitting.

Can Chris knit? Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if the answer was yes. It's not a skill most boys know, she doesn't think, but his mom is fucking crazy, and she could absolutely see her allowing him to learn a skill like that because it was godly or something equally ridiculous.

Eventually, she finishes with another clarinet solo buzzed through pursed lips, followed by a bum-bum dominant-tonic perfect cadence.

Honestly, now she feels a little silly, so she keeps fiddling with the guitar in her lap for a few seconds longer than she needs to before glancing up at Chris through her lashes. ]

That's one of the songs on the album. I don't know the others so well.

[He does not, as point of fact, know how to knit, but thanks to his time as a boy scout he does know some intermediate sewing, and a good deal of macrame. He can't help but laugh when she calls him out for being a distraction, because it's obvious that he is, but he can't really help it, either.

He does give her a brief round of applause when she finishes, grinning all over again, but he tilts his head at the explanation] So, like, are the rest of them that... I don't know, silly?

[ Chris' applause is met with a self-deprecating roll of her eyes but it's hard to hide the pleased flush on her cheeks, and of course she takes the opportunity to give a little bow to thank such an appreciative audience. ]

What, you think old people being in love is silly? [ She's clearly teasing, failing at hiding a smirk as she shakes her head sadly at him, exaggerated. ] That's so depressing. I was hoping my performance would inspire optimism and instead you find it silly!

[ Her fingers keep noodling on the strings, seemingly without her really realizing it's happening. ] Some of them, [ she admits in answer to his question. ] Not all of them. Some of them are kind of sad. There's one about leaving home, and there's a couple that use a lot of pretty out-there instruments, which is kind of cool. A little hard for contemporary audiences to get into, though. I think they use a harpsichord in a few of them. Plus all the Indian stuff. They got super into Hinduism or something at one point.

[He shakes his head] No, that part's sweet, I just mean it's... very bouncy? Like, it sounds like circus music? Or is that just because it was only guitar and not the rest of the instruments?

[He shrugs at the rest] I don't know if I'd end up liking it or not, I guess, but you also said a concept album does have a plot, like I'd have to actually pay attention, but this one isn't? So if I manage to listen to the whole thing I won't have to pay a lot of attention or I will?

I mean, it sounds kind of circus-y on the album, too. I think that was on purpose. I hope it was on purpose.

[ Once again, it hits her that Chris actually listens to her. Which, admittedly, isn't the most out-there experience for her, a lot of her friends actually listen to her, but most of her friends aren't really part of the popular crowd. She's not used to someone with real social capital taking her seriously, paying attention to the things she says and does and bringing them up again later. Yes, they literally were just talking about concept albums, but he remembered what she said about that?

Be still her beating heart. ]

That's why I don't think it's a real concept album. I mean. I guess there's a kind of concept behind it, like with the instruments and stuff, but there's no narrative thread that connects everything. So I don't think it counts. So I guess if you're trying to discern a plot, you'll be disappointed. But if you like alternately silly and sad songs and want to hear some new instruments you aren't used to, you won't be? Depends on what you're paying attention to, I guess.

Okay see now that makes more sense, I mean, I think? [It had made sense while she was talking, but thinking it through himself the idea starts to fall apart a little] Ignoring the Beatles and the Dr. Pepper for now, I mean just in general. Is it more like an opera where the songs are all parts of the same story? Or just like each one is its own story but they're related like... I don't know, a collection of essays on a theme?

[ She can't help the little snort that escapes, though her correction of Sergeant Pepper is half-hearted at best. ]

Okay. I am not an expert on the subject because the music classes offered at HHS are a fucking joke and I can't afford private lessons. But. From my understanding. A concept album is an album written around a unifying theme. I think that means that lyrically, there has to be a story that progresses as each song passes. Otherwise, what's the fucking theme? Y'know?

[ She has no idea if he's following, but she appreciates that Chris is making an effort. He's such a nice boy. ]

Also, I just like stories and I think they're cool. Albums that tell stories, I mean. Even just individual songs, too. Like, love songs are great, don't get me wrong, but I also want to listen to a song about like. An occultist magician who starts his own religion. That's a great song concept, I wanna hear more instantly.

[ One day she'll introduce Chris to Ozzy. But not today. She doesn't want to spook him until he's been cooked in the pot for long enough. Or however that saying goes. ]

But to get back to your point, Sgt Pepper is way closer to just a regular album with a bunch of different songs on it than an opera where they're all related.

Right, Sergeant [It's quiet, but he's definitely mostly following. The whole... well concept, is new to him] I just didn't know that was something you could do with an album.

[There's some kind of awe there, even an edge of surprise] Like, I guess I always figured it was just 'hi, here's the stuff we wrote since our last album, hope you still like us' or whatever, and like, that's why a lot of bands have one or two hits and then you never hear about them again.

No, yeah, I think a lot of people — most people, even — approach music that way. They're so concerned with getting famous and making money that they only really write or record what they think is going to sell. There's no point in putting your heart and soul into something that's never going to get any air-time, y'know?

[ Not that Eddie agrees with that, but she can understand where someone's coming from if they think that way. ]

Pretty sure that most bands that release concept albums only do it after they've been famous for a while.

That makes sense, I mean if it's weird and new, who's going to listen to that, right?

[He actually pauses to give that a moment's thought, brow creasing a little once he does] Actually I might, but I'm definitely an outlier, I mean, most people actually know what kind of music they like by now, and I'm still figuring that out.

Right.

[ Except for someone like her, who absolutely peruses album art and picks previously-unknown bands simply off of how cool the front of the cassette looks.

And Chris, apparently, because for all that he's been sheltered his whole life and is best friends with the worst meathead in school for some fucking reason, he's surprisingly open-minded and genuinely nice. It would be deeply annoying if she didn't think he was so cute. ]

Well, you came to the right gal, baby, I got so much music to choose from, we'll find you something that suits. [ Because she can't help but show off when she's got someone who seems to appreciate it sitting right in front of her, she does a little riff on the guitar that's both showy and objectively kind of cool, though personally she thinks the effect is dulled slightly by the fact that she's playing acoustic.

Be impressed, Chris. She likes that. ]

[Oh he's definitely impressed, and not just because he's got the musical capabilities of a tree stump himself.

Okay maybe like 60-75% that part, but he's still impressed so it still counts. Mostly he's just trying to figure out how she gets her fingers to move like that.]

Yeah? You think you've got me all figured out already? Or do you think this is going to take some time? I might have to come back and see what else you've got?

[ Mostly through lots and lots of practice. But that's not quite as sexy as saying it's some kind of diving inspiration, so she won't tell.

She grins at him, sharp enough to show off the dimple that carves into one cheek, and tries not to fluster too much at the insinuation that Chris is going to come hang out again. They're friends. Of course he's going to hang out with her. Just because they don't hang out at school doesn't mean they don't hang out ever. She knows she represents a safe place to explore the things his mom and his friends don't approve of. That's all that this is. ]

You might have to come back a lot. Who knows how long it'll take before we find the sound that lights you up inside.

[He can't help but smile in return, mostly because hers is infectious in the best way, but also because nobody's made him that kind of offer before, either and that's enough to light him up inside, at least a little bit.] Yeah? Sounds like we've got our work cut out for us, then.

[His head tilts a little, considering] And I'm not sure yet if you're already doing good at this because you're tipsy or if you'll be even better at figuring it out if you're sober.

[ She groans out a laugh, strumming a haphazard chord down the guitar that only sounds a little bit discordant. ]

Please tell me my shitty playing of The Beatles wasn't enough for you.

[He laughs, shaking his head] That's not what I meant, I mean, or maybe it is? [Another head shake, still smiling, just leaning back on his hands again] I just meant figuring out what I might like to listen to, that's what you're good at, and I can't wait to find out if it's because you're tipsy or in spite of it, you know?

[He's pretty sure it's in spite of, and she'll be better at it sober, but he's not sure.]

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