“ The new life began. ”

And it all went from there. The days flew by like birds over seas. The university became a place of waiting for the moment to leave and join the crew waiting in the studio to do an endless myriad of things until midnight struck. Anon liked these days, he enjoyed being around Nick, Trent and Curtis, playing music, solving homework and going to the station when the night rolls around. These days held some kind of romance, and Anon could feel it inside – somewhere deep, a candle lit up, slowly melting the black ice.

Just like this, in the chaotic dance, he flew over November all the way to the middle of December. He woke up briskly, drank a cup of coffee with some pancakes Nick gave him as a “thank you” for assisting her on the test yesterday. He checked the messages in the group he was added into shortly after he became their second guitarist, and after a wall of spam from bored midnight Nick, Anon found a video, sent in by Curtis. Finishing the last cupcake, Anon pressed “Play”.

The video displayed a car workshop warehouse, with a ton of instruments and tables, strangely quiet and echoey. The center of the video was a big black sedan, a rather expensive one. Curtis slowly approached it, opened the door, took a peek inside the salon, then closed the door. Then the camera changed – from back to frontal – showing Curtis, really excited. He couldn’t hold down his smile. Anon quickly understood – the sedan was his, something happened to it and Curtis finally got to the day he would get his car back.

— So yeah, – Curtis said into the camera, – I got it back. DM me your addresses. No need to rely on public transport anymore!

The video ended. Anon looked at the time it was sent. Around 4 AM. He was a bit surprised. It seems, they do not know about the concept of being tired. – he thought. A moment later, it struck him – he didn’t send Curtis his address. Anon immediately got to DMs with Curtis, and, noticing that he was online, typed his address at the speed of light. After sending the message, Anon finished the cup of coffee, left it in the sink, then immediately got dressed, stuffed the bag and left his apartment. He quickly descended to the first floor and got outside onto the cold streets.

It was lightly raining. The cold wind blew in and out, freezing his very being. For a second Anon regretted his impulsive decision. He took out his phone and checked the messages. Curtis typed: “on my way”. Simple and effective. Looking and rereading the message over and over again, Anon came to a thought that life barely requires any expansive complications, and what will get someone going is a simple and effective solution. Sadly, the world was complicated before the rise of man, and he had to adapt, creating solutions as complicated as the world. Too bad we didn’t turn back in this process. – Anon thought.

Today was Thursday. Soon, the New Year will come around and grab humanity by the ballsack, giving a reality check to each and every last one. Anon never knew that life would go past him so easily. He remembers the day of graduation as yesterday, and today he’s half way through the first year of Volcano University. The gap between these moments is enormous, frightening even. All the days in that gap is a slight dent on the memory. The first day of uni was one of them.

And he remembers how he wanted to start. Just like he began his last years of youth in high school – no contact, no footprints, no memories. Breeze through like a ghost, get graduated and then decide. Thinking about it, he realized that he broke the deal sealed by his dad – instead of getting into college or serving for the country, he chose the university. And after that realization, he realized another thing, something he should’ve learned from the beginning – there will be no man that will ever breeze through important parts of his life without leaving a footprint on the soil of his lifetime.

The big black sedan rolled around the corner, stopped near Anon. Anon went to the car, opened the shotgun seat door. Curtis, sitting at the wheel, looked at him.

— Get in, come on! You’ll get all the warmth out!

Anon obliged and took the shotgun seat. The leather seat was as comfy as one can get; Anon automatically sunk into it. Curtis pushed the pedal and immediately drove off to the university.

— How’s it here, in Noah Arc? – Curtis asked.

— For all I care, far better than in Skin Row. – Anon answered.

Curtis sucked some air through his teeth.

— You lived in Skin Row… for how long?

— Around three years.

— Three years? Jesus Christ… I would not consider even existing in Skin Row, and you lived there for three years.

— It isn’t that bad. Of course it’s really bad, but it’s not the bottom.

— There is one? – Trent asked.

— I think so. – Anon answered.

Before they knew it, they arrived at Volcano University. They left the car in a small parking lot near the university, made their way to the concrete staircase, got up, and entered. The following was just yet another day: they left their coats, got to their designated rooms, waited until the bell, got inside the classroom after the bell, desperately tried not to fall asleep on the first lecture.

They breezed through the first two periods, now was the time for the “activity period”. Anon and Nick shared the music class. Today was yet another free period. The teacher, it seems, leveled with the students and began giving something more than just less of a fuck. He was absent most of the time, and when he arrives, he just says: “free period” and leaves. It isn’t hurting students – moreover, it’s far better than they could’ve ever imagined.

Nick sat beside Anon, tuning an acoustic guitar. Anon was sitting in his phone, scrolling past time yet again. He wasn’t interested in anything, even in Nick at this current moment – he just wanted those two hours to pass. He could read, but he thinks that he will lose the narrative string the moment he will begin reading, because of the constant noise. And so, he decided to doomscrolling, hoping that time would just pass on its own. Extreme boredom.

On the periphery of his vision, he sees Nick, thoroughly, slowly, tuning the acoustic guitar. The guitar itself looked rather old, and tuning it, as much as Anon thought about it, wouldn’t change much. But Nick kept on continuously twisting each and every knob, until she was satisfied with the sound. Soon, she finished tuning the old piece of wood, and gave the guitar a light strum. All the strings were tuned to possible perfection, the sound was beautiful and clean.

She began playing. An improvisation, a reflection of her own current mental state. It’s a lyricless ballad about her before Anon’s arrival and after. Before they knew each other and after. Before he became a second guitarist and after. It wasn’t about love, or anything near it – it was just about change, to try to get Anon to believe that she feels something about him, only to then laugh at him for a tiny bit.

She finished, opened her eyes and looked at Anon. His eyes were on her, showing barely any emotion. And if there was any, it would be satisfaction. He liked the song. He nodded to try and show it, to which she smiled, completely understanding his gesture. They sat in silence for a bit, thinking, sharing thoughts with telepathy, and then Nick took off the old worn strap and handed it to Anon. Without a back thought, he took the guitar and began playing too.

His lyricless ballad was about him. Not about the changes, not about the friends he made, not about where he came from and where he desires to go – just about him. His very being. This little fragile world, currently in reconstruction. This little sprout of hope, growing on the humus of his soul. This static face, hiding almost everything, and his desire to change it. It was about him and the confusion of the current moment.

Soon he stopped. His gaze was turned aside, turned completely still. He felt weird, as if this current moment should’ve happened much later. As if his relationship with Nick is rushed. He has years in advance, and yet in those several months he got to the point where he can show how and what he feels by music. Like hitting an invisible trigger to change the level in a speedrun. What caused it to happen so early? Was it Nick’s nature? Was it Anon’s nature? Was it the circumstances? The environment they’re in? Whatever it was, it wants Anon and Nick to get closer, giving another chance for him to redeem himself and for her to feel something she never felt before.

Anon finally found some strength to turn his gaze to Nick. She was sitting, her head on her hands, with a smile and a look of a lover. The tip of her tail was slowly wagging from side to side, like a metronome. She was in awe of the music Anon played. They sat like this for a good amount of time in total silence, talking telepathically. Anon then settled the guitar beside himself and returned to the doomscrolling, as if nothing actually happened.

— Beautiful. Fucking beautiful. – Nick finally said. – You definitely are something, Anon.

Anon nodded. His silence was repelling, as if he tried to avoid her. The smile on her face disappeared.

— Oh, come on, just say something already! – Nick said, a bit frustrated. – This is not funny, this is just weird.

— What do you want me to say? – Anon asked.

— Anything! And if there isn’t anything to say, at least don’t look into your phone all the time!

Anon rose his gaze onto her. She looked rather frustrated. If he continues his nonchalancy, he will just ruin everything. Nick will turn back against him, he will be removed from the band and returned to what he was – just a “boyo”. But in the meantime, he will achieve something he wanted from the beginning – a status of a ghost. Anon thought about it, and decided to push his plan away even further – he turned off the phone, settled it on the table, crossed his arms on his chest and began looking down into Nick’s eyes.

They were now playing a staring game. She didn’t move, he didn’t move. From the side, it looked like they furiously tried to read each other’s minds. Anon’s glass eyes allowed him to stare down into hers with rather immense power. They sat like this for fifteen seconds, until Anon noticed a bit of blush on her face, slowly forming. His unbearable eyesight soon made her pull out and turn to the side, showing her blush.

— This is even weirder now… – she said, without frustration.

— Well, you wanted me to stop looking at my phone.

— What are you implying? – she asked, playfully, looking at him sideways.

— Nothing. You just happened to be my point of interest.

Nick gave him a cheeky smile.

— Just say you love me, you fuck.

Anon smiled back, a bit more shyly.

— We’re too far from that.

— How so?

Anon thought for a bit.

— Because everything is happening too fast.

His words made Nick lock her gaze onto him. He looked down, his eyes filled with thoughts and contemplation, no smile on his face. Just thinking.

— It all just… rolled onto me. – Anon said. – I’ve barely got my second foot out of one shit – I step into another. Not that I’m saying that you’re as equal as that, it’s just… happening all so sudden.

Nick looked at him for a second.

— Oh, I get you. – Nick replied. – Really hard to keep yourself at bay when everything just rolls onto you. I mean, when you got into the band, I felt the same. You know we mentioned the girl, Abby, right?

— Yeah, what’s about her?

— She is planned to be our bassist. And we have been negotiating ever since October. Three months, all wasted. I don’t even know what pushes her away from us. Each and every time we bring up the question of her membership, she just rolls away for a myriad of different reasons. We are not infamous, we know what we do and how to do it, – all that, and she’s still thinking. And now you’re here, first just a stranger, now – our second guitarist. All of this is just… confusing.

— Maybe bring me up the next time you talk?

— What? Elaborate.

— Look, maybe because the crew is stagnant and your words being the same she’s always out there. Bring up me next time you talk. Show that there’s a new member on the team.

— No way, she’ll join because of you, that’s not what we want.

— It’s not that hard to change values. Look, just try, okay? We’ll take it from there, depending on the result.

— Alright. Next time we talk I’ll do that.

Anon checked the time. Forty minutes until the bell. Anon looked around – the class lived on its own. The guitar was standing between them, waiting. The teacher was nowhere to be seen. This talk is unfinished – Nick’s facial expression tells him so. There’s something more to it. Anon just let her think, and a couple seconds later she said:

— So about what we began from. About feelings.

— Yeah?

— Just tell me, right now, with no bullshit. Do you love me?

Anon sighed, tired.

— What are you trying to get? I told you we’re far away from this.

— Why is that?

— Because love is something that has to be built. Slowly. Like a… I don’t know, an apartment complex. You lay a brick, I lay a brick. In any case, you can’t build love from just several months – this would only cause pain. Believe me by my word, I’m saying it out of my experience .

Nick looked at Anon with a question. His words – she’s hooked and she needs to know more. Just thinking about him revealing who he actually is makes his shin immensely hurt. Unbearable. But honesty is the best policy, and if that question rolls around – he has to say it. Lying would only push this moment away for some time.

— Experience? You loved someone before? Like a childhood love?

— Like a high school love. – After saying that, Anon felt a wave of sharp pain through his body. He masterfully hid it behind a stone face.

— Oh… I was loving someone too. In high school. Failed at it, miserably. I learned a lot from it. Partially, that’s why I’m… what I am now. And you have failed too, turning into what you are now.

— You’re one quick thinker, aren’t you?

— There’s no need for thinking. It’s all simple. Nothing passes by without changes. And those said changes are different depending on what you do.

Anon looked at her with surprise. She knows a lot. – he thought. – Like a real ton. I know this too, but hearing that from her… It’s just weird. And what she tries to imply with these questions about my feelings? Does she have something for me? I don’t think so. I need to push this as far as I can. I’m not allowing any more repentance. At least she doesn’t know about that day, so I’m in the clear for now.

The “activity period” is now over. Nick went to Curtis and Trent to discuss something, meanwhile Anon decided to drop to the first floor and get some food. One can’t exist on some sugar intense off-brand cereal while scrolling past a myriad of useless information. There, in the crowded cafeteria, he got his tray, filled it with food and found himself a table. The moment he began eating, he saw Leo and Sage making their way to him.

— Hey, Anon. Been a long time since we talked. – Leo said, smiling.

— Yeah, it was. – Anon said. – How are you?

— Pretty fine. Recently scored another one for our boys.

— Oh wow, good on you. Do you get something from it?

— Yeah. The university pays for achievements like these?

— Oh, really? How much?

— Eh, depends. It’s not much, but it’s good enough.

Knowing that Leo was doing fine all this time reassures Anon. His friendly French face is always a nice thing to see any day. And it would’ve been like this, if not for Sage, looking at Anon with some unknown, unseen before contempt. Anon looked back at her, a question in his eyes.

— You got around Nick I see. – Sage said.

Leo made a surprised face.

— Well, yeah, I did. – Anon said. – What’s about that?

— It’s been over a month since we last spoke. She got you for good, Anon.

Her words surprised both Anon and Leo. Why there’s so much bale in her words? Why she say it like it was his fault that he became friends with Nick? Anon knew that Sage had a personal grudge against her, but blaming her friends? Unexpected from a really smart and thinking girl like Sage.

— What the actual fuck? – Anon said. – What are you implying?

— Can’t you see? She’s a snake! She will get you down in no time! You won’t even notice – and you will be lying inside a casket!

— Sage… – Leo said, powerless, with worry.

— What the fuck?! – Anon was surprised and a bit furious. – Make sense, Sage! She’s not as bad as you believe she is!

— Oh, I assure you, she’s as bad as she actually is. I have known her for a long time, and never – never – I’ve seen a bit of maturity from her! She’s nineteen, and still plays the role of a reckless teenager. She’s a bad, poisonous, toxic person – and that’s why I took Leo away from her.

Leo made an empty face. He knew the reason beforehand, but still can’t believe that Sage still remembers that day. Anon, on the other hand, was furious at how oblivious and nonchalant Sage is.

— Let me tell you what. – he said. – You’re no fucking better! More than that – you’re far worse! You talk about her maturity – but have you talked about your own?! Where’s your maturity, huh?! If you were mature, you would forget about Nick and the crew once and for all! But you still remember it! And you use it as some kind of a tool to try and get something out of Leo! You’re just yet another manipulative gal, nothing more!

The last quote reflected in his shin with pain. Anon remembers that intensified sugar rush of a person. He remembers her plan, that she failed because Anon didn’t do anything. Sage is the same, just a different kind.

Sage looked at him with a good amount of baleful contempt. Anon also failed in her eyes – for her, he and Nick are the same. Reckless teenagers with no hopes and no bright future, destined to die from either drugs, alcohol or a knife in the chest. She wrapped Leo around in her hug, but Leo didn’t do anything – he was static, not feeling the previous warmth there was in her hands. Maybe something clicked inside him. – Anon thought.

— Leo, we must leave. Come on. – Sage said, trying to get him up.

Leo looked into her eyes.

— Sage, please leave. – he said.

Sage was surprised. She sharply stood up and took a couple of steps back, not believing what she has heard.

— Wha… Ho… Is… Is this a breakup?! – she said nervously and at a loss for words.

— I just want to talk to Anon personally. – Leo said.

Sage stood for another second in full shock, then quickly left. Leo sighed, looked at Anon, who was looking at his tray. He lost any appetite because of this little dialogue. All of this is just fucking weird. – Anon thought. – First that talk with Nick, now this…

— It’s not the first time it happens. – Leo said.

Anon looked at Leo with a question.

— I had friends who were friends with Nick before. In high school and other places. And all the times Sage realized that they are friends with Nick, she just… unleashes. I didn’t have any more friends until you arrived.

— That’s bullshit.

— I hope it would’ve been. But it isn’t. It’s reality. And I hate how it is like this.

Silence, contemplation. The situation worsened with each and every second.

— So that’s true?

— True what?

— True that you’ve got around Nick.

— Well, yes. I’m full buddies with her and her team. – Anon said. He wanted to add that he’s also a second guitarist in her band, but decided to keep it to himself.

 Leo smiled.

— Can you tell Nick to forgive me? – he asked. – I want to be friends with her again, but I can’t find the strength to just come around and ask her for forgiveness. I think she still hates me and all. Maybe you can tell her.

Anon was surprised at the request. Leo looked at Anon with hope. He would do anything, just to be friends with Nick again.

— What even happened between you two? – Anon asked.

— Oh… It’s a long story.

Leo began talking. He talked and talked nonstop. His monologue was rich with little details, as if he remembers the day as yesterday. (Of course, Sage wouldn’t let him forget.) Anon listened, carefully, trying to piece it all together. Sooner than he thought, Leo finished his monologue. He was looking, expectantly. Anon took a second to think about his answer, and soon said:

— I’m not asking for amnesty for anyone. If you want, I can orchestrate you meeting her – but you’ll have to say everything yourself.

Leo smiled. He was fine with that. All to restore the old friendship.

The bell rang, telling students to fuck off to their classes.

 

***

 

— Are you ready? – Curtis asked.

— Fuck yeah. – Nick responded.

— Well then let’s roll!

The car peeled out of the parking lot and onto the driveway. Finally, this day was over, and now the crew drives to the studio to have yet another jam session. The roads were mostly empty, so they got to the studio in no time. When they arrived, the crew left the car, slowly made their way inside.

— I’ll talk with Abby this weekend. – Nick said to Anon. – Our entire crew will. So you’ll have to be there too.

— Can’t. I’m working. – Anon said.

— You work? – Trent asked.

— Yeah. As a barista in a café near where I live. – Anon answered.

— Can’t you, like, take a day off? – Nick asked.

— I can ask. But I’m not promising anything.

— Eh, it’s fine. – Curtis said. – I think just mentioning you as a new member will be enough.

The band went inside the recording room. Curtis, almost immediately, got behind his drum kit. Others got their instruments up and running. Trent left for a second, turning on all kinds of apparatus inside the mastering room, then returned and got his guitar up and running.

— I need to warm up a bit. – Curtis said. – Anon, give me a melody!

Anon smiled and strummed a simple, but sinister melody. Curtis looked at Anon for a second, trying to remember where he has heard the melody before, then said, with no frustration, with a smile on his face:

— I asked for a warm up, not an endurance test! Whatever…

They began playing, and the existence of time was completely forgotten. In between the melodies, made up with nothing but their collective imagination, they took a beer break, sipping on a can of the barley malt delight. They talked, played, drank beer, laughed – overall, spent their time nicely. An hour was spent like this, until something unusual actually happened.

It was yet another song they were playing. All made from the collective imagination. Curtis blasted away on his drum set, Trent and Nick were playing simple rhythmic parts, leaving the lead melody to Anon. This song was not much different from others they were playing, but Anon felt it like something personal. The feeling of the needed dramatic part of this short song was getting closer and closer, and when it arrived, Anon, strumming relentlessly, screamed with it:

I hold you,
When you die,
Because I’m killing you.
In your last,
Share your fate
With someone who fucking cares.

Everyone heard, but kept on playing to keep the song intact. It was after the song was over when they collectively looked at Anon with worry. Two silver shining streams of tears crossed Anon’s face. This very song, this heart shattering melody, these soul piecing words that he screamed – this very song was personal for Anon. As what he had screamed out of his lungs and brain was connected to that murky day.

He took off the strap and left the studio, to recollect himself. Nick, worried, after a few seconds left the studio too. Curtis and Trent were alone.

— I guess it has begun. – Trent said.

— What has begun? – Curtis asked.

— You know… We talked about this before. Something like this would happen, and the process will take place.

— You think he wanted for this to happen, and thus did that?

— No. He did that because it hit him differently. Maybe the melody he played was connected to him. Somehow. Either way, it has begun. And we will not interfere.

It was cold outside the studio. The cosmos was slowly taking its righteous throne on the sky. Little dots of distant dead stars shine through the matter. Hollow light of the street lamps spread around. The sinister silhouettes of distant apartment complexes tower over the puny shapes of humans running away from something unknown. Anon was standing, resting his back on the wall, and smoking, thinking thoroughly. He didn’t fear what he had done, he was just surprised he spit it out so furiously.

Nick quickly got up the concrete staircase and stood, looking at Anon with worry. His eyes were locked onto something distant, still shining. Two silver trails of his tears were long gone – wiped away with a tissue Anon held in his pocket.

— Are you alright? – Nick said and approached him.

— Yeah. – Anon said.

— Are you sure?

— I am.

— Jesus Christ… You made all of us worry. What was that?

— I don’t know. A spur of the moment that I knew about beforehand, maybe. The melody hit me differently, and I knew that this would happen – and I let it happen.

Nick looked at Anon. The mystery of his past was one gnawing secret. Curiosity slowly cooked her brains dry, but she kept it at bay – there was just too much that happened to Anon this day, she knows it from the look on his face. Looking back at the spent day, she felt a bit sorry for trying to get to know about Anon’s feelings, thus partially playing her role in this.

Finally, she felt the evening coldness, and began freezing. She was in her sweater and cargo pants, and her warm jacket was in the studio. She could’ve returned for it, it wouldn’t take much time, but she feels that this little moment she currently spends with Anon would completely lose some important bit. With no will to freeze to death, she came closer to Anon, and, suddenly, wrapped him in a hug.

Anon was warm. Like a human heater. Anon stood, looking at her, her face showing nothing but bliss and calmness. He slowly got his hands around her, and now they were standing in this cold, warming each other up.

— This is where love is born. – Nick said all of a sudden.

— Oh, shut up. – Anon said with no malice.

Nick gave him a cheeky smile, the same smile she gave him in the university. Anon looked at the blank cosmos and saw a star, shining ever so slightly brighter. “ This is where love is born. ” – he wrote down later that night at his apartment.