women, past the sunglasses place, Spencer’s with their neon weed lights and sex toy shelves in the back, and finally around the corner past the piano shop that sat across from Ink and Lace. It was the one place in the mall Adam secretly enjoyed—though he rarely told anyone, not quite willing to give up his punk cred so easily for the sounds of Chopin.
It had been there forever, the inside sort of dated with fake-grass-green carpeting and old clocks on the walls. They had a handful of uprights inside the store, keyboards, and a baby grand that sat just outside the shop, waiting to be played. Sometimes the owner was out there, and sometimes another man with short dark hair would play like he was on stage in seventeen-hundreds Vienna. Adam never did get a look at his face, but occasionally he caught a glimpse of his profile as he sat on the bench and rocked with the flurry of notes that poured from his fingers.
It was captivating in ways Adam couldn’t explain. To watch someone play with their entire body, as though their very being made up the music instead of wires and pegs and keys and strings. He could sit there for hours, if the man ever deemed Adam worthy of his presence for that long, but it was rarely more than ten minutes. Usually Adam would be stuck with a client, and by the time their nostril was pierced and they had their aftercare instructions, the man was gone and the space between the stores had settled into the dull echo of mall shoppers.
It was in that silence he’d really think about his life—about what it had become. He wasn’t unhappy, but he knew there had to be more to it than this.
It was in those moments he missed Damien. He missed the band, missed what was, before they all started getting engaged, and having kids, and moving on without him. It had been too fucking long since he’d torn open the pads of his fingers with wailing notes and screaming until he tasted blood in the back of his mouth. It had been too long since he gave sound and words to the feelings raging inside of him, standing in front of an audience filled with people who got it.
That didn’t exist there in the mall, in that tiny town full of yoga moms and paper Starbucks cups. This was his worst nightmare.
The hell that existed after life kicked them all in the ass. It was a vicious thing, reminding them the universe wouldn’t allow him to exist forever as some DIY guitarist with scratcher tattoos and go-nowhere music. Something had to give, and Adam had made his sacrifice.
The problem really started and ended with looking in the mirror and not recognizing the man staring back at him. Who the fuck was he? Some washed-up, aging punk kid with metal in his face, ink seared into his skin, and no real future? It was a fat, bitter pill, and at some point, he’d have to swallow.
“Ayam?” Evie said, tugging on his hand. “I wan’ that.”
His gaze followed where her chubby finger was pointing to the piano, and he laughed and shook his head. “That is worth more than your life, and your mom would totally agree with me. You can play with my guitar later,” he promised her. One of his acoustics had two broken strings and permanent marker all over the pale wood showing sketches of stick figures screaming into the void after bad dates with cis men who spent all night bemoaning the existence of vaginas.
But Evie liked them, for some reason. She found his guitar and thought the sorry drawings were good, and important. And for the simple fact she was his niece, he loved her, that meant something more. How strange to feel validated by some human who had barely seen four dozen full moons, and yet, he was.
“Come on, Monster,” he said, tugging her arm and making her giggle. They crossed the threshold of the shop, and he took a breath to begin his long shift.
Chapter 3
Libretto
In all his years, Nik never would have considered a place like the mall to be a safe space for him to wander on his own. With the ever-changing shops and unpredictable crowds, he could never fully relax. And yet, enough stayed the same, sort of like a stream affected by seasonal rains. The path was steady, and he only had to manage the