A Beautiful Melody by Lilliana Anderson

lights on.” With that said, he clicks the button on the centre console and the window goes up, the reflection of the street lights on the car’s window tinting making it impossible for me to see inside.
    “Um, ok,” I say, even though I’m pretty sure he can’t hear me.
    I twist on my heel and make my way up the front steps to my apartment building. It’s not long before the lift arrives to transport me to the fourth floor where my place is. When I get inside, I leave things dark and go over to the window to look down at the street. Parked at the curb, I can see Theo’s van still idling as he waits for my lights to turn on.
    Biting my lip in contemplation, I wonder if I leave the lights off – will he come inside to check on me? Do I want him to come inside and check on me?
    I continue to stare down at the car as I replay the car trip with him over in my mind. This is the first time he’s actually been kind to me in a nyway. What could have possibly changed in such a short amount of time? Maybe slapping him, actually knocked some sense into him? Geez, if I’d known that, I would have slapped him on the first day.
    Suddenly the driver’s side door opens and I gasp in surprise, realising I’ve been standing here and watching him in the dark for quite a while. I know, I just hit level ‘stalker’ on the ‘creepy meter’.
    I rush over to the closest light switch and slap my hand against it, my heart thudding loudly against my chest as I race around the apartment and hit the others too.
    When, I go back to the window to see if he’s still there, a huge sigh of relief bursts out of me as I spot his van pulling out into the street. I watch until I see his lights disappear around the corner, wondering if I’m ever going to figure that man out. One moment he seems to have nothing but contempt toward me, and the next he actually shows concern – how bloody confusing.

Chapter 13
     

Theo
    I think I’ve slept maybe an hour or two all night. My brain just won’t stop thinking. It’s thinking about this new direction our band is taking. It’s thinking about Naomi being around more often. On top of that, it’s writing new music.
    Every time I start to dri ft off, I get some sort of idea. So I get out of bed, jot it down or play the riff on my guitar to the recorder on my phone. I feel possessed, and I need to get it all out of me.
    Eventually, I quit sleep and head into the studio. I have an old upright acoustic piano in there that I salvaged from an estate sale I happened upon a few years ago. With great care, I restored it as best I could. Now, I keep it covered with a sheet when I’m not using it, both to protect it, and to stop the others from touching it. It’s something I like to keep for myself. I share everything else with them, but this. This is mine, and I feel like I work my best when I’m playing it.
    I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here, pencil jammed either behind my ear or between my teeth, but I’ m working my way through a song. It’s all over the place right now, but there’s something great in there. I just have to find it.
    “Hello?” I hear from behind me. At first I kind of just grunt over my shoulder. I’m too immersed in my own world. But when I hear my name, I knit my brows closely together and spin on the padded bench toward the voice. It’s Naomi. I open my mouth in surprise and flinch when the pencil falls from between my teeth. Fumbling, I manage to catch it and place it on top of my papers. I completely forgot I told her to come here so I could take photos and update the website.
    “Oh shit. What time is it?” I splutter, gathering all my bits of paper and sliding them inside a book. I’m not ready to show anyone this song yet , so I’m scrambling to get myself together.
    “I have one just like that,” she notes , walking toward me and touching the keys lightly. Her mouth pulls up at the corner, and a wistful look passes over her face as she taps one key