^^ y'all in actuality this is ridiculous for a high schooler to play, but Spencer's a prodigy
~~
Liam PoV
I stared at my closet in apprehension as a sickening feeling came over me with the realization I have nothing to wear. Then I realized I was being ridiculous, why did it even matter what I wore. So I shut my closet, and spun on my heel, deciding I would just wear what I have on. Black shoes black pants grey shirt. I shrugged, let everyone think I'm emo.
I grabbed my keys off the island and was about to head out the door, when my sister popped her head out and asked curiously, "Where are you going? I didn't know you had a life outside school."
I had to roll my eyes, I loved my sister but once she was comfortable around you the sarcasm never ended. "I'm going to a friend's concert."
She raised a brow, "A friend? mmhm."
"What?"
"Do you have an extra few minutes?"
I was scared of what she would do if I said yes, so I hesitated, which she seemed to take as a yes anyway. She came forward and pulled me back up to my room and threw my closet open. Without saying a thing, she threw a few things at me that I wouldn't have even thought of wearing. A leather jacket and white shirt. I didn't see how this was different than what I already was wearing. Then she threw a pair of checkered vans at me that narrowly missed my head.
"Put all that on. I know what you're thinking, but trust me, it's different than what you have on." She gingerly placed her hands on my shoulders, "Also, whoever she is, I support you." after pausing for a moment to look up thoughtfully, she added, "or he."
"What are you-" And she got up and skipped away. I decided she probably knew more about these things than me, so I followed her instruction and went ahead and changed. It was probably good she did that, because I was pretty early to begin with and standing in the auditorium alone would likely have been awkward.
By the time I got there, it only took about five minutes before their director came in to introduce himself. They played a few ensembles that sounded pretty cool, and then the curtain closed and a light was shone in the corner of the stage where a single marimba sat, with a terrified looking Spencer behind it. He searched in the audience with his eyes for a few seconds and when he seemed to be looking in my general direction, I gave him a thumbs up, having no idea if he could see me or not. He took in a deep breath and lifted his hands, carefully placing the four mallets in his hands over the marimba. As soon as he started playing, I could see it in his expression: he was more comfortable up there than he had been at any given moment since I'd known him. His body naturally moved with the volume of the music, and his hands expertly led the mallet to create one of the most beautiful pieces I'd ever heard. I could tell he was feeling everything in the moments he was playing. He was thinking about his mom, he was thinking about his home life. I could see everything flash across his face, and my gut didn't settle the whole time he was playing.
Afterward, I had to wait quite a while for the students to be let out; they had to bring all their equipment back to the band hall and by the time they were done the auditorium had cleared. Once the stage was clear, Spencer noticed me still sitting in the audience and made his way over to me.
"Y- you came."
"Obviously. You played well." I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair as I said it, almost absentmindedly, and realized how soft his hair was. His head lulled back with my hand as his eyes fluttered shut, and when I dropped it, he was left frozen, facing the ceiling.
I looked around the empty auditorium and turned back to the still frozen Spencer in front of me. "Do you wanna... go somewhere? Like get ice cream or something to celebrate?"
He finally brought his head back to an upright position, "Celebrate what?"
I chuckled, "How well you played, obviously."
His cheeks flushed red, and he covered as much of his face as could with one hand. But he didn't look away. He nodded, and I spun on my heel, heading out of the auditorium to my car, trusting he was following behind me. Once we exited the auditorium, I realized where all the people went. Families were crowded in the foyer area, waiting for their kids to come back from cleaning up, filling the overfilled room with noise and chatter. I felt two small hands grip onto my forearm, and I turned to see Spencer huddled so close to my back that I couldn't see his face. I was about to ask if he was okay when I suddenly remembered that time when he had to physically duck when everyone was staring at him in class, and realized what was going on.
I picked up the pace as I headed to the exit, the grip on my forearm tightening the longer we were in there. Eventually I got us out the door, and didn't stop till I'd gotten to my car. I slipped my hand between my arm and his hand, slowly releasing his grip. "You're good?"
He didn't say anything, but he nodded, and that was enough. After a few minutes of driving he seemed to have calmed down. "S- sorry. Crowds g- give me anxiety."
I nodded in understanding, "Yeah I get it. The same thing happens to my sister."
"Thanks."Â I thought it was an odd response, but I didn't press it.
After some time spent driving down the road, he whispered barely loud enough for me to hear, "Do you really think I played well?"
I almost slammed on the breaks and caused a wreck, but I kept going, "Spencer, you could've gotten up there and fell on the marimba, and I would've thought you played well. And even though I don't know a lot about music, I thought it was really beautiful."
He let out a laugh, moving his hand to his face like usual as he looked out the window. It only took a few minutes before we arrived at Dairy Queen and ordered. He had fumbled around, desperately trying to tug his wallet out of his pocket, but I had insisted I pay. Once we'd gotten the order I parked in the parking lot to eat.
He ate with his sweater hung so it was covering his hand, and took slow, tiny bites. After a few bites he put his spoon back in and didn't take it back out, "Liam, w- why are you nice to me?"
I choked on my ice cream. "Spencer what?"
"I- I'm a mess, a- and I don't deserve you as a f- friend." His eyes had begin to well up, and I shoved my cup into the cup holder as fast as I could. I reached over and gently grabbed his chin, and turned him so that he had to face me.
"Listen to me Spencer, you deserve far more than me as a friend."
His tears had begun to fall at that point, and his eyes went wide in disbelief. "B- but I'm.. they said..."
"Who? Who said what?"
"John and William. Th- they said I'm worthless because I'm a f- fag." He chocked out the last word and at this point his tears were streaming in full on rivers down his face. I turned so that I was completely facing him, grabbed the back of his head, and pushed it into my shoulder. He immediately reacted, grabbing my shirt and shaking slightly, as he sobbed into my shoulder. Because we were in a car, the position was slightly uncomfortable, but I barely noticed over the feeling of Spencer's breath against my neck. I was stroking his hair, and he was mumbling something incoherent into me.
After a few minutes like that, he seemed to have calmed down, but was still resting in the crook of my neck. "Spencer. Can you tell me who John and William are?"
He slowly nodded his head as he pulled from our positing, keeping his eyes down. He didn't release my shirt from his grasp as he spoke, "Th- they're the brothers I t- told you about. I have to live with them wh- while my dad works to get my m- mom's hospital bills paid."
"Spencer, please never listen to anything they say about you ever again. Yeah?"
He nodded as he sniffed, and pulled himself back into me, resuming the position we were in before. My hand went back to his head, almost on instinct, and he went on. "There are p- people who have to so much w- worse than me so I try not to c- complain but... it hurts."
"You don't wanna go home?"
He violently shook his head against me, and I let out a chuckle that likely vibrated through his body. "Okay."
~~~
LMAO THe chops needed to even roll on this piece would take me longer than the rest of my high school career to build ð also can we appreciate the run at the eight minute mark - okay I'm done