Piano Man - A Song Fiction

Piano Man

Nimble fingers glided effortlessly across the ivory keys, every motion sending a graceful melody lilting throughout the darkened room.

The air hung heavily with smoke as another man released a careless gray breath. His pinstripe clad arm hung lazily on the bar, a thin trail of smoke dancing up from the thin cigarette between his plump fingers.

Under the music from the piano hummed the chatter of the usual patrons and the orders of the new. Dishes clanged and clattered from inside the kitchen as a waitress passed through the swinging cherry wood door, using her thin hips to push the door aside while she balanced the round metal tray atop her hands.

Glasses and bottles clinked together in cheer. For them, it was a night to celebrate, a night to let loose and shake off the week before another bore its ugly hands upon their spirits. For them, it was special. But to Will, it was just another Saturday night.
He slowly played the final chords of the song and a faint applause drifted through the room. He gave the customers a polite nod and turned the page in his songbook to start all over again.

"'Ey Will," a gruff, heavy voice sounded from the end of the bar a few feet away. Will turned his hazel eyes up to the familiar voice for a moment to acknowledge his presence but continued to move his fingers across the keys.

"Hey Jack," he replied. "How's the wife?"

"Alright I suppose," the man replied. "Haven't seen her all day. You know how she gets."

The woman behind the bar handed him his drink and he nodded to her in thanks before turning back to the piano and taking a long drink from the glass. He swiped his arm across his mouth to rid his upper lip of any liquid and placed the glass onto the counter.

"Why are you here, Will?" he asked.

"Where else would I be, Jack?" Will inquired, this time not even lifting his eyes from the sheet music.

"Stop messing around, kid," Jack replied, his tone turning instantly harsh and prompting Will to slow his playing until he eventually stopped and turned his full attention to the man. "You know you're way too good for this place. Why do you stick around here with low life's like me, huh?"

Will looked at him a moment longer then, with a scoff and a roll of his eyes, went back to playing. Yes, it was just another ordinary Saturday night.

*~*~*~*~*~*

The hours drifted by like a quiet song, sulking in its hesitance but captivating and enchanting in its grace. Some left and others came, taking their seats and carrying on as if the former occupants had never existed at all.

That was how it worked in that place. To the bartenders and the waitresses, everyone who entered the building was nothing more than a customer, a dollar sign waiting to be determined by their demeanor and the level of drunkenness they could be caroused into.

Will knew better, however. He knew that every person who walked in and sat down had a story- the businessmen celebrating a successful deal, the college students looking for a break. Even the quiet ones, lurking in the back unnoticed with a drink in one hand and a sad, lonely expression across their worn faces. Even they had a story.

And every Saturday night, as time passed and hours wore on, Will played for them- for their broken hearts and shattered souls, for their victories and their painful defeats, for their hopes and their reminiscence. He played so he could touch them, so that just maybe he could make even the slightest difference in their lives.

There was, however, one person in particular who Will played for every week. And, at her usual time, Will caught a glimpse of her as she walked gracefully in and to the bar.

"I'll have the usual please, John," she spoke to the bartender, her thin lips curling into a polite smile. She tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder and waited for the older man behind the counter to prepare her drink. A moment later he returned and she thanked him, then took her usual seat at the bar alone.

Will watched intently as she moved the glass in tiny circles on the cherry wood surface before lifting it to her lips and taking the first sip. For weeks he had watched her from afar, entranced by her beauty but too timid to utter even the meekest hello. When she laughed, her eyes sparkled with joy, and when she smiled, he felt his entire being melt within her glow. Will was certain that if he had never been in love before, he most certainly was now.

This week, however, her entire aura was drastically different. She slowly placed the drink back on the counter and sighed audibly. Her deep green eyes swam with emotion and she bit her bottom bit as her eyes drifted down to the countertop.

Will's playing slowed to a stop as his attention turned almost fully to her, his mind racing with reasons why such a beautiful girl could be so troubled, so sad and lonely. As his mind drifted deeper, he found himself staring and could not snap back until he felt those intense eyes on him.

"Why'd you stop?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle against the sounds of the rest of the bar. Will felt his cheeks burn and quickly looked away only to look back a moment later to find her eyes still on him.

"Sorry," he muttered and moved to resume playing. His fingers had barely touched the smooth keys when he heard her light laugh and felt a lump grow in his throat.

"Don't apologize," she said. "I just love to hear you play. It's the reason I keep coming back here. It makes me forget all about-"

Her voice dropped out and she looked at her glass, tracing the rim with the tip of her index finger and licking her lips.

"About what?" Will asked. She glanced up again and shook her head.
"It's nothing," she replied.

"No, tell me," Will insisted, getting up from the piano and sitting beside her at the bar. "You can trust me."

At this, her face twisted into amused confusion. "I don't even know your name."

"And I don't know yours," Will replied with a grin. She smiled in return.

"It's Olivia," she replied and took her hand off the glass to extend it out to him. He took it in his own and shook it firmly.

"Will."

"Will, huh?" Olivia replied. "Why the sudden interest in my life?"

"Oh, it's not-" he began and blushed. "You just looked sad, that's all."

"Did I?" she asked and exhaled slowly. She once again turned to look down at the counter, her thin fingers wrapping around the neck of the glass. She lifted it to her parted lips and allowed a substantial amount to fall into her mouth.

"What's wrong, Olivia?" Will asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She looked at his hand and sighed.

"It's Daniel."

"Daniel?" Will inquired.

"My boyfriend," she answered, her words dropping a thousand-pound weight on Will's heart. She had a boyfriend. She was taken.

"I know he loves me and everything," Olivia continued. "And I want to be with him for the rest of my life. This is just kind of unexpected."

Will searched her eyes for an explanation and she sighed again. "He asked me to marry him."

"And you don't think you're ready?" he asked. She gave a short laugh and shook her head, her gaze drifting toward the lines of glasses and drinks toward the back of the bar.

"It's not that," Olivia answered. "I'm just scared. We're so young. What if it's a mistake?"

Will exhaled heavily and turned on the seat to observe the droves of patrons throughout the rest of the room, one elbow still rested on the counter.

"You see all these people?" he asked hypothetically, glancing back to ensure that he had her attention. "They're all just like you and me. Every last one of them is scared."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"Because I know them," he answered. "Maybe not personally, but I know." He turned back and looked at her. "They're all scared, Olivia. Scared of the future. Scared of the past. Scared that someone might come along and see past the walls they've built up and hid behind all their lives. But that's nothing to be scared of. That's all part of life."

"What are you scared of?" Olivia inquired. He let out a short breath and looked down, glancing at Jack's usual seat at the bar. His thoughts went back to their conversation earlier and he shook his head.

"Nothing important," he answered. He lifted his eyes back up to look at hers and sighed. "Do you love him, Olivia?"

"More than anything," she answered. Her words provoked a lopsided smile to cross his lips and he put a hand over him.

"Then there is absolutely nothing to be afraid of," he told her. She paused a moment, thinking over what he said, and a smile jumped onto her lip. She stood abruptly and threw her arms around him in a gracious embrace.

"Thank you so much, Will," she said. "I owe you."

With that, she grabbed her purse and ran out the door, filled and flowing with new excitement. Will watched her leave, his heart filled with bittersweet warmth as his crush slowly died away. He reached into his pocket and dropped a ten dollar bill onto the counter to cover her neglected bill and slowly returned to his piano.

Then, as if nothing had happened at all, he began to play.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Months passed. People came and went in their usual way. Seats were filled and abandoned, and the usual laughter and conversation still drifted above the same melody from the old piano.

As Saturday crowd filled in yet again, Will glanced over his piano and watched them. He had thought about leaving many times, but never made any moves to do so. He knew just as well as everyone there that he could do so much better elsewhere, but he was scared- Scared of being rejected. Scared of failing. But most of all, he was just plain scared.

"Hey Will," Jack greeted him as he took his usual seat by the piano.

"'Ey Jack," Will replied, his eyes again glued to the keys.

"Found this taped to the door outside," Jack said. "It has your name on it."

Intrigued, Will looked up and took the white envelope from him. The handwriting was unfamiliar and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He slid his index finger under the seal and opened it, pulling out the glossy photograph.

He instantly smiled and recognized the girl in the photo. Although dressed in a flowing white gown, her long, dark hair pulled up tightly, he knew her. It was Olivia.

He turned the picture over and noticed three scribbled lines.

Thanks to you, I conquered my fears.
Now it's your turn.

- Olivia & Daniel

Will smiled and placed the picture on his piano. Maybe someday he would take her advice. Maybe someday he would build up the courage to take a chance on life. Maybe someday.

But for now, he would continue to reach people the only way he knew how-
With his piano...