#someone tell me why these companies r so afraid of actually using a guitar for more than a 0.1 second riff twice in a song i s2g

[starlightkun]

damn those txt boys know how to do a rock/pop punk/emo concept......

[ethicallysourcedhumanmeat]

Practically Impractical

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Part 21

When had she closed her eyes? 

It had been almost a week and finally things seemed to be moving, not that they’d let her go home, but at least she was able to move her arm for most of the day.  She was still leashed to the painkillers but the doctors had promised that they would move on to oral medication soon.

The physiotherapist had been with the doctor who did her check up this morning, the musical fan from the first day, Callie had said a silent prayer for familiar faces, and they removed her brace for the morning.  She had 1/3 of her normal range of motion but as concerned as everyone else was Callie had no worries.  This was as worse as she’d ever been but she always bounced back.

Saeyoung, Saeren and Max had been to visit the previous evening, an armload of instruments to join the dinky twenty something key, keyboard the hospital had provided; they’d even brought her the yard sale teal Gibson and an amp.

“You know I can’t play this in a hospital guys,” she’d laughed.  “I think they have noise restrictions.”

Max had dropped a pair of headphones in her lap, the silly cat ears with the lights.

And here she was , amp on the table beside her, ridiculous headphones on over top her knit hat, stretched out on one of the little chairs by the big window with her feet on the table and her rescued Gibson in her lap, how many songs had she gone through already?

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter, that her fingers didn’t always strum the string she told them to.  It didn’t matter that she sometimes felt like her hand was a club and she’d have to wiggle each finger in turn to remind herself they worked.  It didn’t matter that she’d dropped the pick so many times she’d given up on it.  The pain was the same, and she didn’t know what to do about Jumin but that didn’t matter either, it was background noise when she played.

Yoosung had class, Max was at Judo, Hyun had an audition, the twins were working, and Wyatt and Martin were on a plane flying across the Atlantic.

She didn’t know when she started singing, or how loud, she didn’t know when she’d closed her eyes.

Someone is clapping, she thinks she’s imagining it but then she opens her eyes and there his is; Mr. Han, standing in her door way, smiling and applauding.  She pulls the ridiculous cat ear headphones off her head and sets them on the amp, untangles herself from the guitar and the IV and stands.

“That was quiet lovely Ms. Miller, I’ve never heard you perform like that before.”

She laughs. “Always a compliment Mr. Han, but I’m afraid that’s the best you can hope for, for the time being.”

“Don’t apologise.  You’re in a much better state than I’d expect the way Jumin is moping around.” He looks her up and down. “You don’t look much worse than him either if I’m being honest.”

“It’s the surgery that does it,” she smiles and shows off the scar on her shoulder. “Technology these days, I don’t even get the benefit of an impressive scar.”

“Well then, I hope I’m not out of line but I’ve brought you a present.”

“Mr. Han that was not necessary, I have more than enough flowers.”

“I told Jumin as much,” he steps out of the door way and two men push past into the room.  “He grudgingly recommended some things.”

She tries not to let her face drop when he mentions Jumin but she can tell by the thoughtful way he takes her in that she is not successful. “This is excessive Mr. Han.”

“That is what my son said when I wanted to give you a baby grand, so I compromised.”

“You what?”

“And I thought perhaps he was right, a gift like this with your injury may be disheartening but here you are, out of bed and wearing actual clothing, not just pajama’s, you seemed quite content playing by the window.”

“Honestly Mr. Han the only disheartening thing right now is Jumin.” Shit. “Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean, the medications I’m on, my internal monologue is—”

“It’s alright,” he’s smiling at her, and the men at the foot of her hospital bed are putting together some kind of stand or cabinet.  “Jumin is difficult at times.”

“I’d ask you to talk to him, but we both know how he gets when his mind is set.”

“So he isn’t speaking with you then?”

“Your son is a private person it’s not my place.” She sighs.  “I know he’s worried and mad at himself, I’m trying to be understanding, to give him time.”

“You’re frustrated.”

“Fucking pissed,” she says and then snaps her mouth shut. “Sorry.”

He smiles. “It’s fine Ms. Miller.  My son seems to bring that out in people.”  He stands beside her by the window and they watch the horizon for a moment before he turns and takes her in again.  “You know, Ms. Miller, I’ve never taken you for a vain woman, and I have plenty of experience with vain women, you surprise me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Unless you expect me to believe that you’re cold?”

“Do you mean the hat?” She glances around and pulls it off.  “It’s not the stitches,” she laughs.  “There have been paparazzi trying to get shots of Hyun or Jumin and I can’t really get a wig on with one hand.”  She pulls the hat back on.

“Intriguing,” Mr. Han watches her very carefully.  She’s never been alone with him, not without Jumin in the building, and never like this.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m not vain,” she laughs again, nervous. “But the wigs are more of a security thing.  They keep Calliope the C&R Hostess, Callie Cannibal, and Callie the Mom all separate.”

“Are you recognized often?”

“It happens enough now, since your company invested in us, mostly with the wigs on.  Sometimes people stare at me without it, but they usually can’t figure out why I’m familiar.” She glances to the men building whatever Mr. Han has brought her when it hits her. “Wait, you thought a baby grand was excessive, but correct me if I’m wrong is that not a digital baby grand.”

“It seemed a more reasonable size for your current situation.”

She closes her eyes and breaths in through her nose.

“Do you not like it?  I’m afraid I had to rely on a salesmen.”

“Mr. Han that’s too much.  I appreciate it the thought but I just don’t think I can accept.”

“Nonsense, Ms. Miller, you need something practical to practice on, it’s an investment for your future with C&R, under your entertainment contract.  We don’t plan to abandon you.”

“Mr. Han—”

“I won’t be taking it back, don’t worry about the money Ms. Miller.  Will you be alright with these men in your room?  I have meetings this morning but I wanted to see your face when it was delivered.”

She smiles. “Thank you Mr. Han.  It’s a very considerate gift, you and Jumin both have a knack for getting me things I can’t refuse.”

“He’ll come around,” he says, looking out the window at the C&R building.  “In his own time.”  He takes her hand, gingerly giving her time to pull away if he’s made her uncomfortable.  “Whatever you are to each other you’ve been good for him.”

She pulls her hand away.  He knows, he doesn’t know the details but he’s aware that something more is happening between them.  She watches his face, the way he smiles down at her.  Mr. Chairman is no stranger to an unconventional romantic life but she wonders if he would be so understanding if he was fully aware of the situation.  Of course Jumin would never discuss his personal life with his father.

Mr. Han steps away from her then and runs a hand over the case with the Martin.  “Did he give you this?  It looks familiar.”

She nods.

His eyes fall on her violin case by the window.  “Do you play all of these?”

She nods again. “It’s been a long time for that though, doesn’t really go over as a party trick.  Rarely found in the wild, you know?”

He laughs.  “I’m sure you know Jumin played.”

She didn’t.  She knew he could read music, and he had an ear for it, but he’d never mentioned actually playing.  It had seemed beneath him somehow and she’d never even considered asking.  She opens her mouth to ask, something, anything but Mr. Chairman is already waving on his way out the door.