Chapter 4: Melody Maker

Another week passed by, and Dess’ portfolio was slowly coming together. Hours upon hours worth of demo tapes would lay strewn about her bedroom by the weekend, crafted from sweat and tears, but for once, no blood; her knife lay tucked away in her jacket pocket, despite all the stress.

 

Come that Sunday morning, as the leaves were truly starting to turn a brilliant orange as the Festival drew ever nearer, her work was all that Dess could obsess over as she hunched over the piano deep within the confines of her house, alone with only her own company. It had been her whole life in this manic burst of hers; guitar, then piano, then singing some overdubs, then editing and splicing, and then back to the guitar. She could feel her brain begin to fry like an egg, lathered in the burning oil of burnout, yet she still pressed on; she feared that if she took a break for even a second, she would lose her entire spark, her entire sense of purpose, and end up with all of her hard work falling abandoned to the wayside.

No, she couldn’t let that happen. She’d rather kill herself than let that happen.

Strewn about her feet were wires and microphones, angled ever so precisely to capture the ideal angles for sound, and feeding through splitters into a single portable cassette recorder, her preferred method of sound production; there was something about the analog process that just tickled her. At the very least, the interest drew away from her stress, since failure was the greatest killer of her drive. She had been working her body over the grand for the past hour, having gone from tickling the ivories to demanding they work to her whim. She needed to nail this attempt.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed “record” on the tape machine, which whirred to life as the spool began to turn, advancing the audio tape as it ran by the play and record heads. Making sure to take one last glance around to make sure the microphones were really set up right this time, she exhaled, and turned towards the piano, a microphone aimed right towards her face.

“Alright, this is take twelve of ‘Don’t Forget,’” she said with soft exasperation into the mic. “Take twelve.”

She could feel her hands tremble as they hung precariously above the keys, terrified of starting off with a wrong note again, or even worse, flubbing right at the end. Breathing in deep to steady herself, she felt her shaking subside, and an eerie sense of calm washed over her.

She was ready.

Gently pressing down to ring out the opening chord of her song, she let her angelic voice flow softly from her lips once more as the equally heavenly sound of keys echoed out of the white concert grand, the lullaby wrapping lovingly around her:

 

“When the light is running low

And the shadows start to grow

And the places that you know

Seem like fantasy

There's a light inside your soul

That’s still shining in the cold

With the truth

The promise in our hearts

 

“Don't forget,

I'm with you in the dark.

 

“My soul may be falling dim

And your life’s becoming grim

But remembering this hymn

Fills you with the power

Determination burns bright

It will be your guiding light

With the love

The promise in my heart

 

“Don’t forget,

I’m with you in the dark.

 

“It is now my final hour

My dust floats down from the tower

To fill your soul with the power

To stay in the fray

You will win the final fight

And your soul will light the night

With my love

The promise fills your heart

 

“Don’t forget,

I’m with you in the dark.

 

“Don’t forget…

I’m with you in the dark….”

 

As she gently lifted her hands from the piano and let the room fall into silence once more, she heard sniffling back near the entryway to the kitchen. Turning her head to catch a glimpse, her face lit up to see who was there.

“I snuck in to see how you were doing,” Asriel mumbled, teary-eyed and smiling. “I didn’t know you were in the middle of recording, so sorry to interrupt, it’s just….”

He fully broke down crying there in the kitchen, leading Dess to hastily stop her recording and rush over as her boyfriend fell to his knees on the tile floor. “Are you okay, Azzy?” she called.

“Yeah, you’re just beautiful, is all,” he managed to murmur, his voice all warbled as he tried to regain composure. “I mean, your piano… voice… all of it, those lyrics.”

Wiping Asriel’s tears from his face, Dess couldn’t help herself but beam at the complement. Clearly this last take had finally landed for her. “Thank you, Az.” She kissed him on the forehead, all the while toying around his hair with her finger. “It’s a lullaby I used to sing to Noelle when she was younger and scared of the dark. Well, the first verse, anyway; I just wrote the latter two.”

Sniffling the last of his tears, his nose a runny mess, Azzy gave off a light, girlish giggle. “They’re all beautiful, Dess. It honestly makes the first verse even more beautiful, if you ask me. It’s just so hauntingly dark, yet… loving….”

He sniffled some more, still clearly moved by the performance. “You’ll have to play that and some of your other stuff for me again at some point,” he added. “I’d love to cry like that up against your shoulder, or with my head in my lap, or-”

“Fa ha ha! Okay I get the picture, Loverboy!” Dess exclaimed, snapping him out of his crying and making him turn beet red instead on the beat. “You can do whatever you want with your head in my lap later… but if you’re so interested, I still have some demo tapes upstairs that I haven’t transferred yet. Wanna maybe… hop in bed and take a listen?”

The last of his tears wiped away, Azzy eased himself up to his feet with Dess’ help. “Yeah, sure! I’d love to!” He completely missed the hint, but Dess seemed to miss that fact as well as they began making their way away from the piano.

“It’s nice seeing you again, Dess, it’s felt like forever, even if it’s just been a week,” Azzy admitted as held open the door leading out of the kitchen. “And so happy, too!”

“Yeah, sorry I’ve been so absent,” Dess addressed. “I’ve just been so busy holed up in here working on my music and… heh, stress relief, I suppose, that I must’ve lost track of time.” She paused on the stairs and turned to face her boyfriend, fire in her eyes. “I betcha really missed me, huh?”

“Actually, I’ve been keeping myself busy, too,” Asriel confessed, completely missing the giant flashing hints in front of him. “Lots of schoolwork, some volunteering at the soup kitchen, cross-country practice… oh! And I’m also helping to set up for the Festival next weekend!”

Dess just stood there, taken out of her amorous mood somewhat. Did he… really not miss her presence? Her BODY?? Was he really this daft??? “Hah… oh, nice. I mean, good for you!” she shifted through gritted teeth. “That’s great, y’know, you’re doing good work!”

Azzy beamed at the acknowledgement, but Dess was quietly grumbling to herself over the whole conversation. Silently, she trudged up the last of the stairs, Azzy right behind her, and ushered him into her room.

Shutting the door behind them, the dark, musty space was only illuminated by a dim light and the faint glow of her sticker stars on the wall. The entire space reeked of girlstink, weed, and some third, wholly undefined smell that Azzy could only clock as skunk spray. Clothes, tapes, empty pizza boxes, and CDs lay strewn about the entire space.

“Damn, Dess, this is…” He desperately tried to find a complimentary word, but simply couldn’t. “...suffocating.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been stewing in here the entire past week,” she admitted. “Honestly, I’m glad you came, my brain’s been all fogged up trying to work as of late. Lemme tell ya, all that ‘me’ time does not bode well for the psyche.”

“Whadda ya mean?”

She shuffled her feet and looked down. “Let’s just say it’s a miracle my wrists aren’t in tatters, FAH!” Patting her breast pocket, she let off a manic little giggle. “Yeah, the ol’ girl’s been kept safely tucked in here this entire time.”

“...Well, then. Glad to hear that… erm… you’re at least staying safe!” Asriel nervously said, darting his eyes around uncertainly as Dess watched on with an energetic grin. “So… any… uh… anything you have that you want me to listen to?”

“Yeah, I’d like to hear your opinion, actually,” Dess confided, although a little upset that he’d steered the conversation so quickly back to music. “I have some finished and near-finished demos on tape, right over here.” She gestured to an organized mess of tapes stacked in a pile next to an old machine. “Lemme tell you, it took forever to get all of this assembled.”

Asriel looked on, a dumb expression on his face as he tried to process that one word. “Assembled?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m doing everything by piecemeal,” Dess said as she pulled a list out from her desk, handing it over. “Basically I only really have myself to work with on all of this, so in order to get more than one instrument and some vocals on a track, I have to dub everything on this cassette mixer here.” She banged on a girthy piece of kit she’d pulled out from beneath her bed, probably some time last week. “Basically gets everything down into two stereo channels. And that list is for all the tracks and respective takes I plan on using. That take of ‘Don’t Forget,’ for instance, I already have the guitar portion for the latter half all set out. Just need to mix that cassette with this one, and it’ll be all set to go!”

Looking up and down the list, seeing the hasty circling, frantic crosses, and manic scrawlings down throughout, Asriel wasn’t sure whether or not he was more impressed or scared by his girlfriend’s work. “W-wow!” he finally stammered out. “That sure is a lot…”

“I know!” Dess said, nearly shouting with how amped she was.

“But… are you sure you really need to be doing all of this?” He could already see her mood turn sour. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m impressed by your work ethic, it’s just… the pure simplicity of hearing you sing, whether on your own or with a guitar or piano, it’s magical! I just worry you’re doing too much-”

Dess scoffed and cut him off. “Oh, ‘too much!’ Like I haven’t done enough! What would make you think this is too much? You haven’t even heard any of it yet!”

Taking a tape out of a case with “All Night Forever” scrawled on the J-card, she waved it in front of Azzy’s face. “This is what I’m talking about, Az. You’ll see my vision once you hear it, I guarantee it!” She finished with a voice laden with the faux-machismo of an old football star, and with a gleeful smile, popped the tape into the cassette deck before pressing play, the ancient mechanism whirring to life.

The cacophony of sound came in midway through the song; Dess had evidently been listening to it before. A mess of synth and a drum machine lay playing underneath and out of sync with a much louder, more prevalent lead guitar, and of course, her own vocals, which rang out singing.

 

“Now that you’re here in my arms tonight,

Eternity doesn’t seem so long to me

Because it’s all night forever

With you, tonight

Forever and ever and ever and ever, it’s all night!”

 

Asriel tried nodding along to the music as best as he could. In truth, there was a lot of it that he liked. As expected, Dess’ vocals were on point; her hauntingly beautiful voice rang out on the tape, elevated over all else, happier than he had ever heard her sing. Lyrically it was also sound, although he merely caught the outro portion, and had no idea if Dess even wrote them. The guitar work, as per usual, was also top-notch, with Dess hitting all of the notes wonderfully.

That’s about where the compliments ended, though.

“Hey, uh… Dess?” Asriel was timid in his phrasing. “I don’t mean to rub you the wrong way, but… don’t you think it’d sound better if it were, I dunno… just you and one of the instruments playing?”

She paused the tape, and turned over towards him with a frown. “Did you really not like all of that?”

“To be honest, it sounded less ‘punk rock’ and more ‘garage synth pop,’ which I don’t know if it was your intention, but a lot of it is just… off.” Asriel nervously rubbed his hands together as he delivered his criticism, which he hoped would be constructive. “Literally, I mean, the synth is out of sync with the guitar and drums, and if we’re talking about it, I’m not exactly a fan of those presets, either. What samples did you use?”

The doe looked at him like he had two heads. “Samples? I just used the default synth and kit presets on my program.”

Ah. Well, there’s her problem. “Look, the song is good, Dess, really good! The lyrics, singing, and guitar, all great! And those are your strengths, y’know. Your voice, the piano, and guitar. Sound mixing and all that just isn’t your thing, but that’s okay! Just submit your bare demos to admissions, and use a real piano instead of synth, and I think there’s a good shot you’ll get in on that alone!”

“But do you really think that’s enough?” she answered back. Asriel nearly responded, but Dess snatched her fist shut in a sweeping motion; she didn’t care to be told otherwise by him. “How many basic white girls are gonna be submitting demos of themselves playing piano or guitar and singing some mopey lullaby? Too many! I need to stand out!”

Asriel raised a finger in objection. “Okay, first of all, you’re not white; you’re a monster, not human.”

“You get what I mean.” Dess said, all huffy.

“Fine, fair enough, Carol’s vibes are pretty WASP-y anyway. But second, you do stand out, Dess, because you’re really, really good at this! I can’t emphasize it enough, you’re easily the best singer and musician in Hometown, or frankly this entire corner of Maine! You already sound like you’re a professional, I’ve heard you in person, you just need to do what’s easiest for you, and these people are sure to recognize it, too!”

Messing up her hair in a clenched scrunch, she just shook her head, her soul necklace swaying back and forth. “Azzy, I’m not looking to get in the ‘easy way,’ I want to flex my talents! I don’t want to get in on some cheap trick that bypasses the struggles of others!”

“Wha… what are you talking about, Dess?”

She paused for a moment to ponder. “Uh… well… okay, now that I said it aloud, it doesn’t make much sense, but believe me, the little voice of self-doubt in my head tells me it’s a good idea.”

“Wait, the voice…?”

“HAHAHA, just kidding!” Dess frantically shouted, her body twitching and trembling without control. “Now, ya want something else is what I’m hearing?”

“Uhh… yeah, I would, actually.” Asriel looked on at his manic girlfriend with concern as she rifled through tapes. “Hey, Dess, are you alri-”

Cutting him off, she began to list off titles. “Lemme see here, I have a few… ‘Raise Up Your Bat,’ ‘The World Turns Without Us,’ ‘Black Knife…’ that last one’s an instrumental. And… aha!”

She flashed another cassette and popped it in the tape deck. “Here’s one you oughta like!” There was a strange spasm of techno sound, before a guitar strum and out-of-sync drum beat lead into the lyrics.

 

“Out where the river winds

The maple and the Mainer Pine

Metal wrecks and lumber diesels

Come to take our grand old trees

 

“The time has come

To say what's fair

To keep the rent

To hold our share.”

 

Asriel shut off the player himself this time. “Dess, besides the other issues, with you and the song, that’s just ‘Beds Are Burning’ by Midnight Oil with your own lyrics imposed over it…”

She looked at him flatly. “Yeah, duh! So?”

“After that incident? With The Doors?”

Dess froze for a moment, before slowly nodding in acknowledgement. “Okay, yeah… fair. It’s a bit too derivative. I don’t think it’s that bad this time, but… fine, I’ll find something else for you.”

Fumbling through her tapes, she yet again pulled out another, this one with some foreign language scrawled out on the j-card.

“Here we go!” Dess exclaimed, her voice now audibly exasperated. “No lyric changes, and only minimal track sync. Piano and guitar only.”

She once again inserted the tape, with Asriel just sitting there on the bed wondering what she’d pull out this time. The music that came out had better sync, admittedly; the paired down instruments made it decently hard to fuck up. Yet, there was another issue that caught Azzy’s ear whilst listening to the triumphant tune.

 

“…unsres Volks in dir vereint,

wirst du Rheinlands neues Leben.

Und die Sonne schön wie nie

Über Rheinland scheint,

Über Rheinland scheint!!!”

 

Asriel was just flat-out dumbfounded. “You… you sang over a guitar cover of the Ostrheinland national anthem???”

Dess was flat in her reply. “Yeah. So what?”

“I… uh… whatever.” He wasn’t even going to bother fighting this one; Dess would probably throw a fit if he didn’t hold his tongue on this one. “Sync still is slightly off, anyway. What else do you have?”

“Well, I still have a demo tape here,” she flashed, pulling it from her right breast pocket. “It’s just guitar and vocals to my own lyrics, haven’t gone and edited it any yet.”

Excited to finally have something, Azzy rushed to snatch the tape and pop it in the tape player. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “See, this is the type of thing that’s your strong suit! Writing, singing, playing! That’s all you need, no need to overthink things!” He pressed play.

Like the first song Dess played for Azzy, it came in midway through, roaring guitar shredding out of the speakers as Dess’ inflamed punk voice echoed from the player, shout-singing from the deepest, dimmest recesses of her heart and soul.

 

“The darkness must consume the Earth

A Roaring storm, a just rebirth

A purge of those whose hearts lack worth:

Conservatives of moral dearth

 

“The priestess makes her body bare

Likewise myself, in love we share

Two dykes as one, hands through our hair

The bodies join, eternal pair

 

“The Roaring Knight, darkness our vow

The world our sacrificial cow

She is the past, future, and now

We are the god, the Überfrau!!!”

 

The lyrics gave way to a bone-crushing guitar solo, one that physically shook the speakers as it played. Turning off the machine, Dess turned to Asriel and looked for their reaction. “Well? Whadda ya think of that?”

Words escaped Asriel’s grasp; what he had just heard was clearly beyond such a thing. Even so, he tried to let something stumble out. “Well…” he trepidatiously began, “you definitely nailed down the sound perfectly, I’ll say that. It’s just…” He bit his hand as he slowly continued. “...I worry the lyrics may be a little… much.”

Dess stared at him flatly, but he swore he could hear a string snap inside of her. “What… what do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m not saying I disagree with the lyrics for the most part, maybe a bit violent and apocalyptic for my taste, but I’m not a liberal. It’s just… aren’t you worried that you’re gonna hurt your chances of getting into somewhere with such politically charged material?"

She stared at him incredulously. “Do you seriously have a problem with my lyrics?”

“No, not at all! I’m saying this pragmatically, Dess. Both this and the Ostrheinland anthem are probably gonna ruffle some feathers at admissions. I mean, we’ve both commiserated about how stringent they are with us monster candidates, don’t give them any ammunition to use against you is all I’m saying.”

She just couldn’t believe it. “But… it’s art school, Azzy,” she nervously chuckled. “They’ll love my left-wing lyrics, I’m sure of it!”
“Dess, they’re all still very much establishment institutions,” Asriel replied. “Left-leaning, maybe, but definitely not left wing like we are! Anything too controversial, they’re not gonna wanna touch it with a ten-foot pole. Plus, I don’t know how well calling yourself an ‘Überfrau’ is going to go regardless, feels like a politically charged word on the other end of the spectrum.”

“Pfft, like any of that’ll be a problem,” Dess retorted, now fully in denial over what her boyfriend was saying. “The music is too banging to hate, Az, no way in hell will they be able to reject me with those sick beats!”

“If you keep overediting your demos, they sure as hell are!” Azzy’s voice began to pick up some heat. “I swear, you just don’t know when enough’s enough! Are you having another manic episode or something?”

“SHUT UP!” she fired. “I’m normal, I’m… hahah! I’m sane!!!” Dess nervously twitched as she forced a grin. “Look, I’m not gonna compromise my artistic vision. End of argument, it’s gonna work out! I know what I’m doing… I think….”

That self-doubt, ever present and creeping in the recesses of Dess’ mind, finally reared its ugly head. “Why… why do you have to do this to me?”

Asriel was just confused. “Huh?”

“Why’d you have to tell me off like that?!” she screamed. “WHY??? I shared all of that in confidence, and you tear me to shreds! WHY?!?!”

“Ah- are you kidding me?!” Azzy could feel something within him begin to unwind. “Dess, you asked me what I thought of the music, for constructive criticism! I gave you that!”
“I didn’t actually mean that!” she whined. “I needed my ego stroked, a real pick-me-up, and you didn’t give me that!”

“Then WHY didn’t you just say so?!?!” Asriel, fully exasperated now, teed off on her. “Angel, you are such a petulant child at times, I swear! Worst socialist I ever damn met!”

“The only socialist, dummkopf!” Dess angrily corrected through gritted teeth. “And how the hell do you know what a good one is?”

“Oh, you want a fucking list?!” Azzy was no longer held back by prudish inhibitions with his language. “Lemme make you a fucking list! All you do is write blood and guts lyrics, about how you wanna lead a revolution against the establishment and take no prisoners or die trying. That’s all you do, and you never, ever back it up! I bet you won’t even volunteer at the food bank with me later today!”

“Well that’s because the FRN-”

“Ooh! Because the FRN has their hands in the distribution system and shows anti-monster bias!” Azzy mocked. “Have you ever considered that it’s better for some of the poor to eat than none at all?! That an imperfect or deliberately flawed system is better than nothing?!?! It’s not that you even fail to recognize that, I’m sure you’re not stupid, you’re just so damn headstrong, you think the only two political positions are ‘yours’ and ‘wrong!’”

“I swear!” she shouted. “Do you want me to be miserable hearing all of your backtalk?! Do you want me to kill myself?! Honestly, I’ll do it! I’ll even go and kill the President! How about that?!?!”

“Holy shit, if you keep talking about death like that, I’m gonna fucking kick in your face!” he bellowed in a moment of weakness. “Please stop, for the love of the Angel! If you wanna do good, you have to be alive, for crying out loud! Enough with the martyrdom talk!”

“Well have you considered that maybe I’d want to have my face kicked in?!” she moaned, deliberately. “Maybe I felt glooby today and invited you up here to soothe-say my worries away and violently fuck away my anxiety, but that clearly hasn’t happened, now has it?!”

Taken off-guard, Asriel blushed profusely at the comment all tsundere-like, huffing angrily as he did so. He only just connected the prior dots now that it was spelled out for him. “W-well, you already know my answer to that! No way in hell am I fucking you after today, or anytime soon! You know I wanna wait until marriage!”

“Fuck you, ya damn puritan! Let me play the fucking whore for once, dammit!”

“You’ve been saying that since you were fifteen!” Asriel grumbled, his body quaking as much as Dess was. “And that’s the thing, through all this time, you haven’t changed! Just a stagnant state of arrested development for you, never changing, never improving, just wallowing in the depths of your mania, refusing to ever get help!”

He was now fully grandstanding in front of her. “You could do anything, ANYTHING! Become a politician and join the Central Diet as a member of the Socialist party, go out and actually protest in a major city like Megalopolis, join a socialist special interest group, hell, become a terrorist! Fucking hell, you could grow a pair and set off a bomb in the middle of the capital and it’d be more impactful than what you actually do on a day-to-day basis. But you don’t! You don’t do anything because it’s ‘too risky’ or ‘self-defeating’ or ‘a band-aid measure’ or ‘goes against your values,’ which is a stupid thing anyway since it seems like everything is against your values! Anything except the stuff you like to do, lazing about at home and mooching off of Carol while you go off and smoke weed and complain about the world. At least I go out and do community outreach to try and better it, even if it isn’t perfect! WHAT DO YOU DO?!”

She held pause, her sense of self critically wounded by the barrage, her whole worldview hanging on by a thread.

“At least I’m not a filthy fucking consumerist,” Dess finally shot back, weakly, unable to think of anything deeper to cut with.

“Consumerist? ME??? I’m the consumerist?!” Azzy had finally boiled over, a rarity for him. “Oh, somebody call Madonna, because I’m standing in front of a Material Girl! Need I remind you that you purchased full uniform sets for TWO Northamer Baseball League teams?? TWO?!?!”

Dess’ voice billowed like a raging inferno. “THAT WAS A MANIC SPREE, AZ, AND YOU FUCKING KNOW IT!!!”

“Oh, yeah, sure, let’s blame the mania, LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO!” Azzy shot back. “Mania didn’t make you pull for both the Megalopolis Highlanders and Mont Noble Alouettes, YOU made that choice! You could stop following one, heck, stop following both teams, any time you want, but nooooo, you can’t even do that! I at least had the decency to stop pulling for the Bay City Redshirts when they got bought out by that royalist sovereign wealth fund! What’s stopping you?!”

“Baseball’s my addiction, Az!” she fired back. “Black people have crack, and I have-”

“YOU’RE COMPARING THE PLIGHT OF INNER CITY CRACK ADDICTION TO MOTHERFUCKING BASEBALL?!?!?!” Asriel was frothing at the mouth. “And assuming they’re all black?! You’re a bad socialist and a RACIST!!”

“Go fuck yourself!”

“SOD OFF WITH THAT!”

“SUCK MY MOTHERFUCKING CLIT, YOU ANGEL-BE-DAMNED BLONDE SON OF A BITCH!!!”

A third, mocking voice rang out and cut through the shouting. “Azzy’s a SOCIALIST?!?!”

Completely sucked out of his rage, fear gripped Asriel as he nearly jumped out of his fur, nearly knocking himself and Dess over in the panic. “GAH! Kris, when did you get here?!”

They stood grinning right in the now-open doorway, with Noelle by their side gripping their arm tightly, the blonde clearly shook having witnessed the pair fighting.

“Just now,” they replied, clearly lying. “Was just coming in to hang with Noelle, she scraped her knee. What’re you doing?”

Still holding tightly to Kris’ arm, she then spoke up herself, in a hushed tone. “Dess, is everything okay?”

With the sudden shock now wearing off, the both of them stared back at each other, feeling themselves cool down, although the animosity was still there. “Yeah, yeah, we’re fine,” Dess assuaged. “Just a little spat, is all, normal couple stuff.”

“Pfft, ‘normal,’” Asriel fired back.

“Dude, shut up!” she whispered through gritted teeth. “Not in front of her, okay?”

“And Kris, too.”

“And them as well, fine.” Groaning, Dess buried her face in her cupped hands and silently screamed to herself. “I’m sorry, Azzy,” she finally sputtered out.

Asriel nearly fired off another sarcastic remark, but kept his tongue held. “I’m sorry, too.” It only felt right to shoulder the blame as well, even if the reply was just as cold as hers.

Turning back towards his younger sibling, Azzy then walked up out of Dess’ room and put on an extremely serious face. “Kris, listen to me,” he demanded. “Don’t tell anybody that I’m a socialist. Not even as a funny ha-ha prank of yours, I would die if mom and dad found out. Capiche?”

Kris nodded silently, a grin on their face. In a moment of weakness, Azzy took hold of them by the collar. “I’m serious,” he whispered, wiping the smile off of them. “Not. A. Peep. Or else….”

“Azzy…” Dess placed a hand on his shoulder. No words had to be spoken, but that was enough to snap Asriel back. He let go of the shirt and turned towards the stairwell.

“I have to go,” Azzy dryly told the trio, before aiming his words at Dess. “Like I said, I have to go volunteer at the food bank, like a good socialist.” He went downstairs with Dess trailing behind, opened the door, and stepped out. “See y’all later. And Kris,” he said, staring daggers at their sibling, “keep quiet about this.”

Kris nodded as he turned away, walking off and disappearing around the bend. Dess was equally fed up with everything and moved to high-tail it.

“I’m done,” she announced as she strode out the door, slipping a can of Genny Cream that had been stashed in the drawer of one of the side tables. “Done. With everything. If mom asks where I am, tell that bitch I’m getting crossfaded at the shelter. Peace.”

Shutting the door behind, the elder pair left Kris and Noelle alone in the house, sat aimless atop the near stairwell. They waited a moment, unsure of what to make of what was just said, before Kris finally broke the silence.

“That was… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Noelle reciprocated. “They sure do love to fight.”

“Heh, I know. It’s their love language at this point. They have good patches, like last Sunday, but I swear, it’s just like watching mom and dad all over again.”

Noelle turned her gaze. “They’re really that bad?”

Kris shook their head. “Nah, my parents are definitely worse, although I wouldn’t exactly say those two are ‘healthy’ by any stretch.” Another beat, then Kris spoke again. “Y’know I was gonna play the piano, and I know I don’t usually offer to do this, but… do you wanna listen to me play?”

Noelle felt her heart skip a beat. “Y-yeah, sure, Kris,” she sputtered out. “I’d love to hear you play.”

Slowly making their way down the stairs and through the kitchen, Kris slid into place on the piano bench, Noelle timidly parking herself right beside them, blushing. They’d always been a great piano player, almost as good as her sister was, but it was so extraordinarily rare that they enjoyed the company of others whilst doing so. Usually, they’d demand to be left alone as they played, leaving Noelle to sit on the front room sofa as she listened to music echo out through the vents.

So to be here, right next to her best friend as they played… well, it was certainly playing with her heart some. And with how rare it was for them to be like this, so calm, so tender, so… romantic, almost, she wanted to savor every moment of it.

Gently resting their hands on the keys, fingertips daintily touching, Kris began to play a gentle melody. It was a warm, homely tune that rang out throughout the house as they plodded along, one that seemed to draw out all of the tension in Noelle’s shoulders. Her usually immaculate posture faltering, she slouched over onto Kris’ shoulder and lovingly nestled her head into their sweater as they continued playing, not missing a single beat. It was such a nice contrast to the coldness of the manor, a gentle song fitting for a town like Hometown.

“It’s so nice, hearing you play,” Noelle lazily murmured.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” Their voice was as warm as the music.

“Are you?” she asked.

They took a moment to think as they played. “It’s a nice piano,” Kris replied.

“Well, I’m glad you like it so much!”

“...Must’ve cost a small fortune to have an authentic Steinway concert grand here, huh?”

It was just an off-hand comment, yet that was all it took to fire up Noelle’s nerves. “H-heh, yeah… yeah, it probably did….”

Kris could hear trepidation in her voice, and ceased playing entirely. “Everything okay?” they asked. “Your voice sounded kinda… weird… there.”

“Fah! Of course you know what’s weird!” she bounced back, before sliding down again. “No, it’s just… guilt, I suppose.”

“Guilt?”

“Yeah, guilt.” Noelle snuggled up next to Kris as she mumbled her heart out. “This probably did cost a fortune, and for what? A piano that sits quiet for twenty three hours out of the day? That kind of money could’ve gone to someone in need….”

Kris looked over to her, concern in their eyes. “You’re sounding an awful lot like Dess now, Ellie.”

“And so do you, calling me Ellie! Fah!”

“I’m serious.”

With Kris clearly not backing down, Noelle shrunk back herself. “Yeah, I know, it’s just… she makes me feel awful, the way she talks. I know the hatred isn’t aimed at me, it’s mostly at Carol, and to some degree herself, but it feels like my emotions get caught in the crossfire, y’know. Like… and forgive me if this sounds horribly naive, but… sometimes I wish I were just born a little poorer, y’know, so I wouldn't have all of this guilt stacked onto my head.”

She grimaced, knowing what she just said was indeed a horribly privileged take, but unlike Dess, Kris didn’t lash out, only silently nodding as they turned towards her. There was some level of comfort in their gaze.

“Noelle, we can’t decide where we’re born and who we’re born to,” they said. “I wish I was born an androgynous dog monster, and fucking look at me.”

“Fah!”

“But in all seriousness, you were born into a rich family. So what? Engels was bourgeoise, and that man helped to bankroll Marx and form his ideology. Hell, Kropotkin was a literal prince and was still a revolutionary Anarcho-Communist!”

They took a hold of Noelle’s delicate hand, making her blush profusely. “And your point?” she murmured.

“My point being, you don’t have to feel guilty about having resources. You just have to do what’s best with what you’ve got, just like everyone else. It just so happens you’re fortunate enough to have more to give. Dess just has her head too far up her own ass to see that.”

That was enough levity to elicit a chuckle out of the young doe, who cackled at the mental image such a turn of phrase conjured. “Oh, Kris… HA! Err… thanks,” she said through a fit of laughter. “I really needed to hear that.”

“No problem, ‘Elle.”

“It’s funny, really. You’re not usually so… verbose on such subjects,” Noelle mentioned. “Or… or much of anything at all. Where’d you learn about all of that stuff, Kris?”

“Azzy’s search history,” they immediately confessed. “He has a bad habit of not clearing it, so I like to browse it from time to time.”

“Oh, you DEVIL!”

They grinned maniacally as Noelle gawked at them. “Oh, yeah, I am WICKED! And it’s the funniest thing you ever see! He’ll just bounce around from socialist blogs to random Wikipedia articles to just asking the search engine random-ass questions.” They paused. “A lot of… other stuff, too. I play dumb about it, obviously, can’t let him know that I know. You saw that back there upstairs.”

“Wait, what ‘other stuff?’” Noelle asked.

Kris whispered it into her ear, despite nobody else being near to hear.

“Wait, really?” she sputtered out. “You don’t think he’s…”

“Yeah, probably,” Kris confirmed. “But it’s not my case to press, he needs to figure that out just like I did.”

“Fair enough.”

The pair waited a beat, almost wishing the other would say something to continue, before Kris turned back to the piano to fill the void with music. Not that either of them minded that. The gentle gliding of their hands over the smooth ivory keys, beautiful as it was, soothed Noelle once more, lulling her nearly to sleep. Scooching over closer to their closest friend, she mumbled the last nagging thought in her mind.

“Kris?”

“Yeah?” they said whilst playing.

“Do you still… see Dess as a role model?”

They didn’t take more than a moment to ponder. “I still do,” they admitted. “I see a lot of myself in her. Although… I really do worry for her.”

“Yeah… I hope Dess gets better,” Noelle mumbled, resting her head on their shoulder. “I miss seeing her like she used to be.”

They kept playing their beautiful music, gliding their hands across the ivory surface, but nodded to Noelle’s comment.

“I hope so, too.”