Chapter Text
It was hard, sometimes, looking back on the years that spread out to make up your life. Long, tiresome, painful, agonizing, lonely… sometimes it was hard to come up with a solid reason why you were still breathing, still thinking. It hurt, at times, remembering every face of disappointment that had looked down on you, every sad shake of a head as feet shuffled away. The cold feeling of emptiness was such a large part of all your memories, no matter how changing and fluxing those memories were at times.
It’s hard knowing that you have hurt everyone you have touched.
There was good there too, though. You couldn’t deny that there was some light in the darkness, some sort of shine in the abyss. A smile, a kind word, a friendly gesture, just making things a little better on a cloudy day. A stranger offering to share their umbrella, a bus driver stopping to let you on as you run to catch up to it, a compliment on your appearance when you certainly didn’t deserve the praise. There were little specks of happiness that made you want to smile sometimes.
It kept you living for those moments. You were fine living in the dark if you saw a star every now and again. The darkness just made those stars all the more beautiful.
You shuffled through your life like this, living day to day now rather than year to year. Every day was an effort that you were determined to overcome and while the slope kept getting steeper and the journey was getting more difficult with every day, you climbed it all the same. Sometimes on hard days, those stars seemed like they would never reappear. That you were being pulled deeper and deeper into the dark as you drowned in silence. Sometimes the stars were just a figment of your imagination.
Days like today were like a breath of air in a drowning ocean. A sea of stars where once clouds covered all of it. One day of peace. One day to be happy.
You weren’t letting it go to waste.
The old café was lit by a candles and lanterns, strings dangling from the ceiling, flickering out gold and amber on the faces of people around you. People whose eyes were closed, expression’s peaceful, thoughtful, reverent. Listening to the music that filtered through this dimly lit area like it was a spirit on a gust of wind.
Your fingers pluck quietly at strings that soothe your soul. The action itself is enough to make you sigh a little and some of the weariness on your expression fades away. Fingers moving back and forth, dancing in their own little way as you shift the guitar on your lap.
You weren’t just doing it for yourself, not today. Today you were here to see the stars, the lights of these people, and to let yourself feel the light again.
“They say that home is where the heart is
I guess I haven't found my home”
You hum into a mic seated in front of you. Your voice is soft, taking the song with the reverence it deserves. Speaking to the stars in front of you since you couldn’t go lay under them outside anymore.
“And we keep driving round in circles
Afraid to call this place our own”
There’s a soft buzz in your ears, making you glance down at the ground for a moment, taking a tiny breath. Your fingers still pick at the notes that reach even those at the tables in the back, those with mugs and blankets that were curled up in the booths.
“And are we there yet?”
A fan whirls softly above all of your heads, the lantern light reflecting off the blades and casting flickered light on attentive faces turned towards you and the make-shift stage.
“They say there's linings made of silver
Folded inside each raining cloud”
The darkness outside the café windows only emphasized the calmed warmth inside this sheltered haven, snow drifting in and out of view when reflecting lights from candles in the windowsill.
“Well, we need someone to deliver
Our silver lining now”
Your voice builds slightly, pleading, as you turn your head to the windows, glancing out into the darkness as if you could see beyond it. See whoever might be out there, lost in the snow that had whipped across the city chaotically for the last several days.
“And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?”
The sound of a chiming bell undercut the playing, not bothering you in the slightest as it died away. The temperature shifted in the warm shop for a brief moment, snow drifting through the open front door. Someone else entering the company of people finding happiness wherever they could.
“Home, home, home
Home, home, home. ”
People curled on blankets across the café floor curled farther into their warmth. Something about the actions, such minor movements to make themselves more comfortable, to be at peace, made your voice die a little, blinking down at the guitar, your fingers still playing as if ordered to. The new person to enter moved silently across your vision, taking a seat on a chair. Another bit of starlight added to the cluster of bright souls around you… the thought made your voice come back, stronger.
“They say you're really not somebody
Until somebody else loves you”
Couples took in your words as you picked back up, strength regained. Soft smiles passed their faces and shoulders pressed tighter to one another as they accepted the comfort of those near them.
“Well, I am waiting to make somebody,
Somebody soon”
The chorus again approached as your voice turned into a melody that was begging, undercut with a desire that even you weren’t sure how to describe. It wasn’t something you could put into words; why something like this, this baring of your soul, could make you both sad and peaceful.
“And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?”
Maybe these people didn’t understand what you were saying but that didn’t really matter. You were still saying what you wanted and as long as you got it out there, you were content with letting the rest of the world continue rotating undisturbed.
“Home, home, home
Home, home, home”
A flash of movement caused your eyes to drift, the newcomer moving in the back to rest their head on their hand. The darkness was too deep back there for you to see their expression, candlelight only going so far. Maybe, you could at least hope, they needed to hear this song as much as you needed to release it.
“Where you will lie on the rug
While I play with the dog”
You smile hopelessly, eyes darting away again. Such an ideal dream, wasn’t it, such a foreign entity. The song itself seemed to know how much of a dream it was asking for and yet, it kept asking over and over again, like it was still hopeful for that possible ending that was just out of reach.
“And it won't be too much
'Cause this is too much
'Cause this is too much for me to hold”
Your voice builds slowly, your chest feeling like it would implode if you couldn’t let the words escape. If you kept them locked up in your darkness, you’d never be free, you’d never feel peace. This was as much of a release as you could ask for from that darkness, just this one frozen moment in time.
“This is too much for me to hold”
Paper lanterns sway quietly as your words seem to die from your lips, the admission leaving you like a dying plea. You couldn’t hold these feelings forever and these starlight people surrounding you were willing to sit and listen as you whisper out a song that was only ever formed from pain.
You hum out the next few sounds, unable to make your lips form word, eyes gazing down at your hands as they played on. The song wasn’t over, though. It never really was, not for you.
“Home, home, home”
Wistful, soft, dying words left your lips as you fingers slow slightly. There is so much stillness now around you. All life seems to have stopped for a moment.
“And are we there yet?”
Don’t let the silence take over just yet.
“And are we there yet?”
If you stopped singing, the stars would fade out again.
“And are we there yet?”
If they were going to disappear, you should at least finish. They deserved that much.
“Home, home, home
Home, home, home, home”
All stories end up ending at some point, however. All lights burn out, all stars fade, and eventually darkness is all you will have. You just have to let it end and wait patiently for a new star to be born for you to admire.
“And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?
And are we there yet?”
It seemed like it was time for time to start up again.
“And are we there?”
The last few words trickled from your lips, a soft goodbye in the way you scanned the visible faces and let the last cord die into the still air.
-----------------------------
It took a moment of dead quiet before the applause started, loud and thunderous from the all areas of the room. You allowed yourself to smile a little down at your shoes as you stood without a word. It took a bit of shuffling about here and there to unplug your guitar from jack that had been letting the music reach a bit farther back into the café then it normally would.
Dipping your head graciously, you grab your case and return probably your most precious possession to it. As you shuffle your way to your seat in the corner of the room, right by the entrance, you were happy to see that while many were applauding, most faces were softer than when you first went on stage. That was all you needed to know you did alright. You gave these people back something for all the little bright blips of light that their small kindnesses did for you every day. They seemed more thoughtful and you could swear there was a shimmer in one or two of their eyes.
With a breathless huff, you allow yourself to fall back into the booth you had stationed yourself in alone. You hadn’t had anyone to come with you anyway, not that it mattered. Sometimes it was a good thing to let out stuff like this by yourself.
As the applause finally died away, light chatter filled the room, a sound you were actually pleased to just close your own eyes and listen to. Happy people talking and being happy. It was sort of magical, right?
This was one of your favorite things to attend when you could find time. Time between living and breathing and being a normal functioning human being. This tiny coffee shop and café at the heart of the city had this charm that couldn’t be denied. It was a sanctuary from the office buildings and the stench of despair that usually floated from the corporate shits that boxed in the charming hideaway. Law office over there, Stock adviser over there, metal buildings every which way you look and then right in the middle of it was this tiny place that held open mic nights on snowy days, origami flowers hanging from vines that crept up the walls and paper lanterns lit every evening.
It was places like this that made you happy you were alive even still.
Another player took the stage a few minutes later but you were too busy breathing quietly and staring out at the snow to your right to listen too much. Their song was much lighter-hearted than yours but that wasn’t a criticism. Any type of music was good in here.
You didn’t notice for the longest time the eyes on you as you lean your head against the glass separating you from the snow outside. It took another two songs to fade in and out, more applause that you joined in briefly for, and another song to begin for you to make a note of it.
The person who had entered during the beginning of your song, the one in the corner, watched silently from their spot, head still resting on their hand, only having shifted enough to turn their gaze in your direction now. Only pinpricks of light shone out from their hoodie that kept them warm from the weather that seemed to be to be picking up in intensity by the second. The pinpricks likely a reflection of their eyes from the candles that were scattered around them. You couldn’t read their expression otherwise.
Their free hand raised and they gave the smallest of waves, just a little tilt of their hand in one direction but it still made you smile. You weren’t sure why, but back when you were singing, you knew that you had sensed that they might need the song like you had. You knew from experience that sometimes listening was just as good as letting it out.
You dip your head a fraction of an inch, acknowledging their wave. Their expression beneath that hood was unreadable but by the way they crossed their arms over their chest immediately after, leaning back into their seat, you figured they were relaxing.
Either way, as much as you wanted to stay, it was probably time for you to leave this sanctuary.
The snow outside was only blowing harder from the looks of it and you had a ways to walk to get back to where you lived. If it increased in speed at all, you would not be able to navigate back without slipping and sliding around or falling on your ass in the snow. Most people here probably had cars parked in one of the nearby garages… but your only real choice was walking.
With a reluctant sigh, you stand, shifting yourself out of the booth as you looked resentfully at the door. Leaving this place was the last thing you wanted. It was warm here, happy, there were people who were content just to be alive for once. Going out in the snow would mean putting all that behind you.
You groan a little under your breath, reluctance making you move a bit slower as you gather up your stuff. Your scarf draped over the table now comes up to wrap tightly around your neck; your thick jacket you had discarded earlier due to the natural warmth of the shop being pulled on right after the scarf. Gloves? Check. Cap? Check. Guitar safely locked up in it’s case? Check. The case wasn’t actually all that important, it could get pelted with snow for all you care. It was old and reliable and you knew for certain that it wouldn’t let anything happen to the object safely stored inside.
You seemed like you had everything and with a reluctant glance at the area around you, you shuffle towards the door. Only as your hand reached for the nob did you pause, patting down your pockets to pull out your wallet. If you were going out in the ass numbing weather, you might as well have something warm to drink on the way, right?
You were probably stalling, you realized, but you were okay with that realization.
Shuffling over the counter at the side of the café, the area more lit than the rest of the shop with dimmed overhead lights and the glow from different coffee machines.
“You’re actually heading out in that?” The man behind the counter questioned as he leaned towards you. You knew him by name from all the times you’d been in here. Jared, the owner of this little paradise. His smile was one of the many things that lit up your life’s personal sky.
You shrug a little and give a sheepish expression. You knew you were an idiot for leaving the warmth and comfort here but you did have work in the morning that you would have to dredge yourself out of bed for. You couldn’t get stuck sleeping in a booth during a snow storm like you had last time they had this little event (the snow had come in fast and was pretty unexpected; most people at the open mic had taken shelter till morning to outlast it).
Raising a hand, you give him a small 1 with a single finger and he laughed, knowing what you meant without any words being necessary. One ration as you head off to face the war outside. One cup of hot cholate that would help warm your hands as you trudge home.
You didn’t just love this place because of the atmosphere. It was genuinely an amazing café. The coffee was great, the tea was to die for, and Jared had this weird thing he did with shaved vanilla flakes in the hot chocolate that had you skin tingling with goosebumps as you drank it. You could come and sit down, eat muffins and little cakes that you figure could rival any mother’s cooking, all while enjoying good music and a relief from the world outside.
It was really heaven to you.
The smell of freshly made hot chocolate wafted through the entire café, making your eyes roll a little in the back of your head. It was probably contagious, this desire, since half of the heads not actively watching the comedy act on stage now turned to where you hovered. You could read nearly every expression since you had worn it at least a million times before. It was one of “Oh, damn, that smells good. I want that in my mouth right now, please and thank you.”
You would bet good money that when the routine ends, Jared would have at least five or six more orders to fill. You hide your smile in your scarf. Too bad for them, you got here first. You didn’t have to wait in the resulting line.
“Extra vanilla, just how you like it!” Jared spoke next to you, making your head turn to look at the offered cup. This time, you didn’t hide your smile at all, flashing it at him warmly as you toss him more than enough to cover the drink. You hated caring around spare change and by now, he knew it.
“See yah same time next week,” Jared added as you grab the cup, tossing out a teasing wink before you turn. Waving a playful goodbye with your free hand as you grasp the cup that was warming your palms through the gloves.
You were much more prepared to face the snow now, armed with a cup of happiness and the reminder that you weren’t leaving forever. You’d be back. Of course you would.
Stepping out into the storm, you take out large sip of the /real/ courage elixir, and tug your scarf up over your nose. You had a long way to walk before would feel warm again.