La pérdida como arte

Gustav Mahler murió en 1911 sin la posibilidad de escuchar el estreno de su Novena Sinfonía (1912). Si bien el compositor bohemio alcanzó a completar antes de su muerte el primer movimiento y algunos bocetos ulteriores de su Décima, la investigación musicológica suele posicionar a la Novena como el testamento artístico de Mahler. Sin embargo, la nota necrológica asociada a la contemporaneidad de Mahler y su sinfonía reviste una función más que anecdótica y se transforma en este caso en un síntoma preferencial de su mensaje estético.

Como bien ha notado Paolo Bortolameolli tanto en Rubato (2020) como en su brillante lecture previa a la más reciente rendición de la Novena en el Municipal de Santiago, Mahler exhibe una particular consistencia creativa al dialogar en la escritura de esta sinfonía con obras como la sonata de Los Adioses de Beethoven y el poema Tod und Verklärung de Strauss, pero al mismo tiempo también con su obra. En la Novena, Mahler recupera motivos —obsesivos a ratos—, escenas y estructuras que ha desarrollado a lo largo tanto de sus ciclos de canciones como de sus sinfonías y las enclava en este sonoro friso mortuorio desdibujándolas o reelaborándolas. En ese sentido, Mahler es un compositor cuya organicidad, pero también su moderno sentido de reflexividad, solo es comprensible en la medida de que se logra distinguir el gesto creativo en la permanente glosa sobre la glosa o en el palimpsesto hecho sonido a fuerza de magulladuras.

La cuestión que la Novena desarrolla es a fin de cuentas la pregunta acerca de la despedida. Pienso, sin embargo, que lo hace no desde un punto de vista orientado al contenido del adiós, sino que a su potencial trascendente en términos de rito. Si Pascal Quignard sugiere que la música antecede al oído, junto a Mahler podríamos postular que la música sucede o incluso sobrevive al adiós. La despedida torna verbo a la pérdida y la imprime en el pensamiento como una fuerza negativa que se arroja a escudriñar huellas donde hubo manos o calor donde hubo aliento. Despedirse es hacerse a la eternidad de lo ausente en el otro. De ahí que Mahler mire en el primer movimiento de la sinfonía al Ländler, danza de tres por cuatro de raigambre campesina, y lo desarrolle obcecadamente con la desesperación de quien recita para sí una serie de nombres o recuerda rasgos de un rostro ante la inminencia del olvido. Mahler despide su mundo para convertirlo en bullente agua de memoria.

Con todo, es en la composición del rito que se juega la conmovedora maestría de la Novena. En la escucha del Adagio de la obra, Mahler se remonta al coral Bleib bei mir de J. S. Bach y presenta un motivo tan solemne como simple que desarrollará por casi treinta minutos transformando a la sinfonía en un manifiesto acerca de la pérdida como arte. Las cuerdas perforan el árbol de la melancolía en un grito desgarrador al inicio del movimiento y permiten que brote de este la memoria como un flujo dócil que puede ser permanentemente encauzado. Mahler reelaborará el motivo y modulará en incontables ocasiones durante este movimiento mostrando así que la melancolía siempre persigue un objeto cuyo tacto ansía y cuya imposibilidad transforma. Hay no obstante placer en este rito de celebración de la pérdida. Cada vez que la melodía emerge a cargo de un nuevo instrumento, un coro instrumental la replica en una versión de miniatura o en un eco que recuerda perentoriamente que el sonido es un fenómeno que siempre ha sido para nunca más ser. No hay posibilidad de tocar el lago sin que este no reaccione y haga que las aguas cambien su forma. La melancolía besa el recuerdo y lo multiplica, lo trastoca, lo dulcifica o lo vuelve sombrío. La imposibilidad del tacto, la inminencia del olvido y la obcecación por aferrarse a la presencia hacen de esta sinfonía una pieza maestra.

Mahler falla, pero todos nosotros también lo hacemos al fracasar en el desasimiento. Sin embargo, en el acto de decir adiós se inaugura también la posibilidad de franquear el olvido. La música sobrevive al oído como un tiempo que acontece en su imposibilidad futura y que nos deja un austero lenguaje para conjurar a la memoria: el silencio y sus flores.

E.Q.--Lights Out

The “morning” after Felipe and Arpeggio’s lives changed forever.

Felipe opened his eyes in the middle of the night.  He hadn't been dreaming, but he had been sleeping.  He couldn't see his clock but he could see the light of the sky from the window.  It was still dark.  Not yet that lightening deep indigo, the one he used to dub a "3 hour sky".  Felipe, the sometimes lazy bedbug he liked to be, often preferred to sleep in well past 9 am, and would sometimes wake up on fitful nights only to roll over and go back to sleep.  He refused to keep a clock in his room, as it would only remind him of what time he had left before he had to rise.  But a glance at the sky could often tell him how many hours it would be before sunrise.  A 3 hour sky would mean he had about 3 hours before needing to wake in the early morning, like 8 am.

The sky was far darker than a 3 hour sky, and he knew he hadn't been asleep long.  He glanced next to him, where Arpeggio has curled against him.  His arms were wrapped around him loosely.  

It seemed the last few hours were something of a long dream.  Their long coming spring.  He replayed the moments in the elevator.  In his bedroom.  The heart rending pain yet overwhelming relief.  

It was like a dream come true, a dream he hadn't even known he ever had.  The end of a long, long fall.  A fall so long that he'd never even realized he had been falling in the first place.  And when he hit the bottom....the pain was soon outmatched by the love that was gained.

Arpeggio stirred a little in his sleep.  Felipe of course had slept in the same room with his partner before, on gigs and other missions.  They'd even shared a bed once or twice when lodgings were cheap.  But now he was holding him.  He was warm, and in the dim light from the city lights in the window, his alabaster skin seemed almost translucent.  Like an opal.  His jet black hair, tousled out of place from last night's events, looked like crow's feathers.  Arpeggio always swept his hair back, keeping it neat with product and constant smoothing back.  If he had any nervous habits, it was the tendency to smooth his hair down often.  In its natural state, Felipe liked the look of his hair.  It had layers to it that were generally unnoticed in his usual style.  He never really noticed, and part of Felipe regretted it.  The other part of him seemed content.  He could take his time discovering him.

He rolled to his side to pull him closer and the young TC opened his eyes.  Like perfect sapphires.  It was hard for Felipe not to find himself lost in them.

"Yes...?" Arpeggio whispered softly.  He wasn't used to being gazed at like this, not this close, but this time, Felipe's penetrating gaze didn't make him want to turn away.

His partner fumbled with words suddenly, his face reddening slightly.  He sighed and leaned his forehead against his.  "You're...just so frickin' beautiful."

The TC pulled his face back with a look of pure confusion.  It was adorable.  "Wh-what??  Isn't that something you say to a woman?"

He chuckled and ran his fingers though the jet black hair.  "I say it when its true."

"Romance doesn't seem to be your strong point either.  How is it that you bedded so many with such cheesy lines?"

"Hey, I'll have you know guys and chicks love my cheesy lines."

He gave a small scoffing noise but there was the barest of smiles on his lips.  "This...."

"This...?"

"This....is going to be...different, isn't it?"  His voice was barely a whisper.

"...Yeah....  It is.  And...its gonna be hard for both of us.  I mean...you're gonna be feeling shit you've never felt before.  And people are...prolly gonna treat you different."

Arpeggio was quiet as he glanced off past his partner's shoulder.  "...I don't...really care how people treat me."

"I know.  But I wanted to make sure you knew.  There are people who used to fear you; maybe they'll see you as going soft.  Maybe there are people who used to idolize you; maybe they'll see you as fallen and debased, or maybe they'll think you're even more attractive.  I dunno, maybe I'm just talking out my ass, and maybe I'm flattering myself, but there are even gonna be people who'll think you're associating below you.  That I'm going to ruin you....and...and, I don't...want you to feel bad about that or...."

Felipe realized he was talking faster and faster, his voice trembling.  That dark fear bloomed over him again.  Or maybe...maybe you won't want to be with me anymore....

Arpeggio reached out and touched his face.  He could feel Felipe's fear in his chest, and it hurt so hard it made his fingertips ache.

"Fel."

He looked back into his blue eyes.

After a brief moment of silence, he said softly, "Get some rest, Felipe...."

It echoed softly in Felipe's ear, "Try not to worry" reverberating in those 4 short words.  He nodded and leaned against him, shut his eyes and eased himself into sleep.

Arpeggio watched him, and followed him into the arms of sleep.

~~~

8 am and Arpeggio woke automatically.  He shook his partner's arm gently.

"Fel.  Come on.  Time to wake up for work."

He groaned and rolled to his stomach and buried his head in the pillows.  "Nyuuuooooo."

He sighed with mild frustration.  There was wave of relief that this usual morning routine hasn't changed, but its replaced with exasperation.  "Felipe....we'll be late."

The other young man groaned again and lifted his chin enough to talk unencumbered.  "No."

"Please?"

"Let's just stay home and have sex allllll dayyyyyy."  He glanced at him with a single, hopeful but lusty look.  And it made Arpeggio burst out laughing.

"I'd....I'd love to....but...."

Felipe laughed as well, and it felt good.  "Ok ok ok.  But next time?"

"We'll...see....  I don't see how we can make that an all day affair."

"Believe me, I could make it a 2 day affair...."

Somehow, they get dressed, with Arpeggio bringing his clothes into Felipe's room so that he could make sure he was getting dressed properly.  Tying his tie adroitly, he tutted as the other boy took his sweet time.

"Come on, Fel, we're going to be late."  He reached over and helped him button his shirt and tie the dark blue tie.  

Felipe leaned forward and kissed him, firmly but lovingly.  His alabaster skin quickly broke out into a deep flush.

Shrugging his blazer on, with a much more alert and cheerful demeanor than his previously slothful movements, Felipe headed to the door as his partner grappled with the sudden PDA.

As Arpeggio reluctantly came to the door and getting his keys, he gave him a gently yet still nervous smile.

"Ready to start the first day....of our new lives?"

It was an absurd thing to say.  Be he had to admit...it was startlingly true.

Open Mic this Wednesday!

🎤Tempo Rubato OPEN MIC!🎤

Our stage is your stage!

🌟When: June 5th 9:30 EDT (Doors open at 9 EDT!)

🌟How it’s going to work: Performers of all kinds from all over the realm are invited to perform on the Rubato Lounge Stage!

🌟Sign-ups will open when our doors open at 9 EDT day of show

🌟Performers will forward their song link to Popito Popoto on the night of.

🌟All performances are welcome, from songs to dances to poetry readings, storytelling, magic… Sky’s the limit! (but keep it PG-13!)

🌟 We will be running on NPC staff this night so everyone can enjoy the show. Thank you!

@balmungrp (thank you!)

Noticias amarillas de Beethoven

[Mutter, Yo-Yo Ma y Barenboim interpretando el Triple concierto de Beethoven. La foto es de Peter Adamik]

Grandes figuras de la Clásica (Goerne, Lisiecki, Sokolov, Mutter, Ma, Barenboim) presentan en Deutsche Grammophon grabaciones dedicadas a Beethoven en este atípico año beethoveniano

A finales de 2019, Deutsche Grammophon, posiblemente la más popular compañía de discos de música clásica que jamás haya existido, sacaba a la venta una gran edición dedicada a Beethoven. En 2020 se cumplen los 250 años del nacimiento del genial compositor y la efeméride iba a tener un impacto mundial en las programaciones, tanto de conciertos como de grabaciones. La colección de DG contiene 118 cedés y una serie de complementos en formatos audiovisuales: en total, unas 175 horas de música, incluyendo algunas primicias.

Nadie podía esperar entonces que una epidemia iba a provocar a la vuelta del año el cierre de teatros y auditorios por todo el mundo y la cancelación de conciertos y representaciones durante meses. Recluidos en sus casas, los aficionados no tuvieron más remedio que recurrir al consumo doméstico de música. De repente, la grabación (en cualquier formato) pareció recuperar un puesto central en el ocio de muchos melómanos, y el Todo Beethoven se convirtió en un producto especialmente deseado como compañero de la reclusión.

Pero la música de Beethoven no es una moda. Por eso resulta perfectamente compatible con esa macroedición la incorporación continua de nuevos trabajos discográficos en torno a su obra. En las últimas semanas, el sello amarillo ha presentado tres, que reúnen a algunas de las mayores figuras internacionales de nuestros días para ofrecer facetas diversas del corpus beethoveniano: la canción, la sonata, la pieza pianística breve, el concierto y la sinfonía están aquí representados.

El primero de esos trabajos en ser publicados (a finales de marzo) reúne al barítono Matthias Goerne con uno de los mayores talentos de la cantera de la multinacional alemana, el joven pianista canadiense Jan Lisiecki, que acaba de cumplir 25 años, pero firmó un contrato de exclusividad con DG a los 15. En su trabajo se incluyen las dos más importantes colecciones de canciones publicadas por el compositor: los seis lieder de la Op.48, escritos sobre un conjunto de poemas espirituales de Christian Gellert, y An die ferne Geliebte (A la amada lejana) Op.98, el primer ciclo de canciones sensu stricto de la historia. El álbum se completa con otras once canciones, entre las que se cuentan algunas de las más populares del músico, como Adelaide o las dos versiones de An die Hoffnung (A la esperanza).

Goerne es posiblemente el principal heredero de Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau en el terreno del lied actual, aunque sólo sea por su exhaustiva dedicación al género en el ámbito discográfico. Ha grabado todo Schubert (los ciclos varias veces), así como muestras muy significativas de Schumann, Brahms y Wolf, el póker del lied romántico alemán por excelencia. El barítono alemán reivindica aquí incluso esas discutidas canciones de la Op.48, piezas estróficas que todos los especialistas consideran lejos del mejor Beethoven y que era habitual escuchar en interpretaciones en las que sólo se cantaba la primera de las estrofas. Goerne las hace completas.

En sus versiones destaca el cálido lirismo y el despojamiento, la sobriedad de una voz que con los años parece haberse ido dulcificando y haciendo más refinada, lo que se aprecia especialmente en las obras más expresivas y profundas, aquellas en las que puede atisbarse en el arte beethoveniano algo de lo que serán luego los grandes representantes del género, es decir, las seis piezas de A la amada lejana y las otras tres canciones citadas arriba. Goerne ha colaborado con algunos de los más importantes pianistas de nuestros días. Y por ello quizás lo que más sorprende del registro es el joven Lisiecki, que combina el ímpetu con la pureza de líneas y el más exquisito detallismo en los matices dinámicos, que alcanza especial relieve tanto en la primera versión de An die Hoffnung (Op.32) como en las transiciones entre las canciones de la Op.98.

El ruso Grigori Sokolov (Leningrado, 1950) lleva tiempo instalado en el olimpo de los pianistas de nuestro tiempo. El entendimiento de su arte casi como un sacerdocio que exige una dura disciplina de trabajo diario y su fobia a los estudios de grabación han marcado su algo errática presencia en disco. Sokolov decidió hace años que sus grabaciones serían durante los conciertos, rechazando además cualquier intento de edición posterior, incluida la eliminación de ruidos parásitos provocados por el público o cualquier otra circunstancia.

Su anterior publicación en disco databa de 2017. Ahora vuelve a DG con un trabajo que se presenta en dos formatos: digitalmente se recoge el contenido de un doble cedé con obras de Beethoven y Brahms más una selección de encores (propinas) que, como todos los que hayan asistido a alguno de sus conciertos saben, rara vez bajan de cinco. A ese doble cedé en el formato físico se le añade un DVD, que incluye más obras de Beethoven y otras de Mozart, además de propinas diferentes.

El disco se abre con la más brillante y popular (en el sentido de la más pensada para llegar a un público amplio en su época) de las primeras sonatas para piano publicadas por Beethoven en 1796, las tres de la Op.2. La 3ª de ellas, escrita en do mayor, parecía hecha para impresionar, tanto al público como a los intérpretes. Y eso es lo que hizo Sokolov el 20 de junio de 2019 en el Auditorio de Zaragoza, donde se hizo el registro. Es posiblemente el punto más alto del doble álbum por la mezcla de claridad, intensidad y equilibrio de su propuesta.

De un Beethoven joven se pasa al Beethoven tardío de las 11 bagatelas Op.119, obras escritas a principios de la década de 1820 y en las que el genio del compositor se muestra ya libre de ataduras formales para manifestarse con una esencialidad que puede ser risueña hasta casi lo intrascendente (nº1), infantil, danzable (nº3), noble y expresiva (nº8), apenas un esbozo en arabesco (nº10) o profunda, desnuda, abstracta (nº11). El registro proviene del concierto que Sokolov ofreció en el Klavier Festival Ruhr de Wuppertal el 14 de junio de 2019, y en ellas el pianista ruso muestra toda su capacidad para matizar el sonido en mil formas, logrando una interpretación caleidoscópica, pero que tiende a subrayar la ligereza.

Tal y como se presenta, ese programa es el mismo que Sokolov hizo en su gira de 2019. Después de Beethoven venía Brahms, las Seis piezas de la Op.118 y las Cuatro piezas de la Op.119, que el ruso interpreta sin solución de continuidad. Música trascendida de un Brahms otoñal, que se registró en el concierto ofrecido el 8 de agosto en la iglesia de San Bernardo de Rabbi, pequeña localidad italiana donde tuvo una casa Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli y donde, en su honor, se celebra desde hace años un festival pianístico. Sokolov toca las diez piezas como quien escribe una novela, con sus partes descriptivas, sus puntos álgidos y sus depresiones. Domina ante todo la precisión, la claridad, el control de las dinámicas y del rubato. Aunque uno de los momentos más hermosos y conmovedores resulta ser el segundo intermezzo de la Op.118 (un Andante), tocado con una sensibilidad poética exquisita, en las otras piezas lentas, como el Adagio que abre las Op.119, se echa de menos un punto más de calidez.

Las propinas forman la tercera parte de todo concierto de Sokolov. En este álbum salen de los tres recitales comentados en número de siete: Rameau (Les Sauvages, Le rappel des oiseaux), Schubert (Impromptu D 935 nº2, Allegretto D 915), Brahms (Intermezzo op. 117 nº2), Rajmáninov (Preludio op.32 nº12) y Debussy (Des pas sur la neige).

El DVD que se adjunta al álbum, y al que no he tenido acceso, es la grabación de un recital que se celebró en el Auditorio del Lingotto de Turín en 2017. El programa incluye las Sonatas KV 457 y 545 y la Fantasía KV 475 de Mozart y dos de las últimas sonatas de Beethoven la nº27 op.90 y la nº32 op. 111. En las propinas vuelven a figurar Rameau (L'Indiscrète), Schubert (Momento musical D 780 nº1) y Debussy (Canope), a quienes se añaden Chopin (los dos Nocturnos de la Op.32) y Schumann (Arabeske Op.18).

El mismo 8 de mayo que sacaba al mercado el álbum de Sokolov, Deutsche Grammophon ponía también a la venta el último trabajo discográfico de Daniel Barenboim como director de la Orquesta del Diván, un álbum que se publica en tres formatos, CD, LP y Blu-Ray, aunque el Blu-Ray ofrece en vídeo sólo la primera de las obras, el Triple concierto de Beethoven, tal y como se ofreció en un concierto en la Philharmonie de Berlín en octubre de 2019.

El Triple concierto Op.56 es una obra atípica. Hasta que Beethoven decide escribir su obra entre 1803 y 1804, nadie había usado un trío con piano clásico con la idea de oponerlo a una orquesta. El Concierto se ha relacionado a menudo con las sinfonías concertantes, que tuvieron su momento de gloria en París en el último tercio del siglo XVIII y de las que Mozart dejó dos ejemplos sobresalientes. En cualquier caso, se trata de la obra concertante más discutida de Beethoven. Algunos comentaristas han destacado el desequilibrio provocado por los primeros destinatarios de la partitura, dos grandes virtuosos, el violinista August Seidler y el violonchelista Anton Kraft y un diletante, el archiduque Rodolfo, que era alumno de piano de Beethoven.

El papel del archiduque lo asume en esta grabación Daniel Barenboim, que actúa también como director. Sus compañeros solistas son dos de las grandes estrellas de la música clásica internacional desde hace décadas, la violinista alemana Anne-Sophie Mutter y el violonchelista estadounidense Yo-Yo Ma. La interpretación es extraordinaria. Dominada por el concepto de un Beethoven musculoso, robusto, heroico, el conjunto resulta de un soberbio equilibrio entre lirismo, delicadeza de fraseo e intensidad expresiva, un terreno en el que destaca una Mutter auténticamente desatada, sobre todo en el primer movimiento. Sonido brillantísimo y magnífico acompañamiento de los jóvenes del Diván.

Algo parecido puede decirse de la Séptima sinfonía que ocupa la segunda mitad del álbum y que proviene de un registro tomado en Buenos Aires el 31 de julio pasado, un mes justo después de que la WEDO y Barenboim interpretaran la obra en el Maestranza de Sevilla. Vibrante interpretación global, incisiva en lo rítmico, contrastadísima en las dinámicas y con dos puntos de apoyo fundamentales, un Allegretto por completo trascendido, de fraseo flexible y una claridad textural que hace aflorar un asombroso detallismo tímbrico, y un Finale incandescente, no tanto por el ímpetu rítmico, la punzante acentuación, el brillo y la potencia sonora de la orquesta cuanto por la forma en que el maestro bonaerense administra las tensiones, manteniendo al oyente clavado en el asiento con un juego de claroscuros y de matices agógicos magistralmente planificados y desarrollados. Sin duda, uno de los discos beethovenianos del año.

[Diario de Sevilla. 18-05-2020]

Algunas reflexiones sobre el rítmo.

Una obra musical debe tener un ritmo estable al ser interpretada para que suene bien. Escarbando en internet hace poco, encontré un ejemplo divertidísimo: pensemos en los cantos religiosos de las iglesias de los pueblitos que, tienden a sonar con fuerza y entusiasmo, pero cada feligrés y cada ancianita llevan un ritmo propio. Muchas veces, inclusive el sacerdote, tiene problemas con el métrum: algunos parece que tuvieran un motor de lancha, otros entran bastante tarde.

El ritmo es la esencia de la música porque define el pulso de la misma. Es como el corazón si ésta fuese un ser vivo. Neuhaus no se equivocaba al decir que “Se tiene razón al comparar el ritmo con las pulsaciones de un organismo vivo, no con el movimiento de un péndulo, ni con el tic- tac de un reloj, ni con el batir del metrónomo, sino con fenómenos como el pulso, la respiración etc…”

Mi maestra Radostina tampoco se equivocaba cuando me reprendía en clase de piano al exagerar los rubatos. Decía: “La diferencia entre el ruido de la séptima y lo que estás tocando, es que la avenida no puede controlar el ritmo. Tú si puedes lograrlo, pero hay que estudiar”. Esto ha calado en mí desde entonces y diez años mas tarde lo entiendo desde la música, desde las artes, inclusive desde la gestión. Cuando estoy con este bello coro que desde hace un tiempo venimos preparando junto al director musical Daniel S. Gonzalez , entiendo más y más el ritmo.

El ritmo es importante en la música, pero en el trabajo es más importante. El corazón del coro es el director musical. Él, como un sumo sacerdote debe “saberse infinito”, como lo diría mi maestra Maria Jose Arjona. El director bueno es musical, pero también indispensable, disciplinado y constante. Debe establecer un ritmo, ser decidido y proporcionar a cada miembro de este organismo el flujo necesario para sobrevivir y sentirse a gusto. El director es al coro lo que el sacerdote es a la tribu. Yo como director artístico entiendo al coro como un organismo vivo, donde cada uno de sus integrantes hace parte de un sistema y es indispensable para su funcionamiento.

Hay órganos en el coro que son vitales también. Para mi, la coordinadora del espacio de ensayo, el gestor organizacional, los gestores culturales, los lideres de cuerda son como los pulmones, el hígado, el páncreas etc. Bibian, Fernando, Randy, Stephanie, Alexander, Aníbal, Joshua y María Mutante Gracias por tanto.

Agradezco todo lo que ha pasado estos dos últimos años porque me han hecho una persona mucho más feliz con mi trabajo, con la percepción que tengo de activismo y con mi propiocepción acerca de la cosmogonía y la responsabilidad que implica ser artista. Agradezco aún mas a las personas que se han ido, a las que llegaron, a los que se han mantenido en el proceso y a los que vendrán porque es por ellas que el coro y el laboratorio Orfeo existe.

Comparto con ustedes algunas imágenes de lo que va de nuestro proceso este año. Si tú quieres saber cómo puedes apoyarnos o cómo puedes participar, hablemos. Nuestro correo es [email protected]

6. Rubatosis

La inquietante conciencia de sentir nuestro propio latido del corazón.

Etimología: Del término musical italiano Rubato + Tempo "tiempo robado".

1. Sonder

La comprensión de que cada persona tiene una vida tan intensa y compleja como la nuestra.

Sonder en alemán significa "especial" y en francés se usa para "sondear, explorar, o bucear. Ambos significados fueron usados para esta palabra.

2. Opia

La extraña necesidad de mirar a alguien a los ojos, lo que puede dar al mismo tiempo una sensación invasiva y vulnerable.

Etimología: Del griego opia, plural de "opio" + opia, "de los ojos".

3. Monachopsis

La sensación sutil pero persistente de estar fuera de lugar.

Etimología: Del griego monachus "sola, solitaria" + opsis "visión".

4. Énouement

El sabor agridulce de haber llegado al futuro, ver cómo han salido las cosas, pero no ser capaz de decirnos a nosotros mismos cómo fue nuestro pasado.

5. Vellichor

La extraña nostalgia hacia viejas librerías.

Proviene de una similitud con la palabra griega petrichor, que es la esencia de la lluvia sobre la tierra mojada.

6. Rubatosis

La inquietante conciencia de sentir nuestro propio latido del corazón.

Etimología: Del término musical italiano Rubato + Tempo "tiempo robado".

7. Kenopsia:

La sobrecogedora atmósfera triste de un lugar que normalmente se llena de gente, pero ahora está abandonado y tranquilo.

Etimología: Del griego kenosis "vacío" + opsia "ver".

8. Mauerbauertraurigkeit

El impulso inexplicable de alejar a la gente, incluso amigos cercanos que realmente estimamos.

Traducido del alemán significa "la tristeza del constructor de paredes".

9. Jouska

Una conversación hipotética que surge compulsivamente una y otra vez en tu cabeza.

10. Chrysalism

La tranquilidad hipnotizante de estar encerrado durante una tormenta eléctrica.

11. Vemödalen

La frustración de fotografiar algo increíble cuando ya existen miles de fotos idénticas.

Etimología: Del sueco vemod "tristeza tierna o melancolía pensativa" + vemdalen, que es el nombre de una ciudad sueca, con la que IKEA en general nombra a sus productos.

12. Anecdoche

Una conversación en la que todo el mundo habla, pero que nadie está escuchando.

13. Ellipsism

Esa tristeza de no tener la capacidad de saber el cómo terminará esa historia.

14. Kuebiko

Un estado de agotamiento inspirado por los actos de violencia sin sentido.

Un Kuebiko es una deidad kami japonesa en forma de un espantapájaros sabio, que está todo el día viendo el mundo pasar.

15. Lachesism

El extraño deseo de ser víctima de un desastre - como se capaz de sobrevivir un accidente aéreo, o perder todo en un incendio.

Etimología: Del Griego lachesis "lote de desechos", también Lachesis es el nombre del segundo de los tres destinos en la mitología griega antigua.

16. Exulansis

La tendencia a renunciar a hablar acerca de una experiencia porque la gente es incapaz de entenderla.

Etimología: Del Latín exulans "vagabundo", inspirado en los albatros errantes "diomedea exulans"

17. Adronitis

La frustración ante el tiempo que se tarda en llegar a conocer a alguien.

Un adronitis era una característica de la arquitectura romana antigua, un pasillo que conecta la parte delantera de la casa con el complejo atrio interior.

18. Rückkehrunruhe

La sensación de volver a casa después de un viaje inmersivo sólo para descubrir como se desvanece rápidamente de nuestra conciencia.

19. Nodus Tollens

La comprensión de que la historia de nuestra vida deja de tener sentido para nosotros.

Traducido al latín significa "el nudo que niega el ser negado."

20. Onism

La frustración de estar atrapado en un solo cuerpo, que es capaz de habitar un solo lugar a la vez.

Etimología: Portmanteau de monismo + onanismo. En filosofía, el monismo es la opinión de que una variedad de cosas puede ser explicada en términos de una única realidad o sustancia, o una fuente distinta. Onaismo es una especie de monismo, porque su vida es, en efecto limitada a una única realidad en virtud de estar restringido a un cuerpo, pero solo falta algo claramente.

21. Liberosis

El deseo de que las cosas y situaciones nos importen menos.

Etimología: Del italiano "libero", miembro de un equipo de voleibol que es una parte vital de la defensa y se puede mover con mayor libertad que otros jugadores, su misión es mantener la bola en juego.

22. Altschmerz

Cansancio hacia los mismos viejos problemas que siempre hemos tenido - los mismos defectos aburridos y ansiedades que nos han estado atormentando por años.

Etimología: Del alemán, alt "viejo" + schmerz "dolor"

23. Occhiolism

La conciencia de lo pequeña que es nuestra perspectiva.

Etimología: Del italiano occhiolino "pequeño ojo", que era el nombre original que Galileo dio al microscopio en 1609. También significa "guiño" en italiano.

E.Q.--The Lift

I KNOW I KNOW.  BUT BREATH OF THE WILD, THEN MARIO KART, THEN SPLATOON.  Or, more seriously, trying not to lose my mind at work, and then rasing a puppy for the first time in 8 years.  Both can contribute to hiatuses, but far be it from me to pull a Togashi. @_@ I apologize for the giant gaps but I did want to make this story polished as best I can.  Its a pivotal part in Arpeggio and Felipe’s relationship.  

So without further ado, the infamous lift incident that brought 2 Trancers closer together, or teeters on the rbink of pulling them apart (oh who am I kidding, we all know how Side A turns out XD)

~~~~

Felipe made an off-handed comment that gently set a ball rolling, so unnoticed and gentle that it was already running without control by the time he'd noticed.  He'd good-naturedly poked Arpeggio in the side one sweltering Chicago day. "Gaining a little weight lately?"  He gave him a sheepish smile afterwards, in apology for the bluntness. Arpeggio glanced at himself and shrugged.  "Perhaps lately.  I've been really slacking in exercise lately, what with all the work we've had." "Well, the recent busts have been good cardio," laughed Felipe.  He pinched his stomach a little.  "To be honest, maybe I'm projecting...I've been gaining some stomach lately too." "It happens when you sleep in and eat nothing but junk," his partner replied, giving him a short side-long glance, the TC version of a smirk. "We have a gym, don't we?  Might as well start using it."  Felipe thumped him on the back lightly.  "How 'bout after work tonight?  Its 24 hour, so even if we're in til 11, we can try and it'll be prolly empty too." Arpeggio blinked and shrugged.  "I...suppose so, but I don't have any work out clothing." Felipe nudged him jokingly.  "What, you can borrow mine.  We're still the same size....at least til I started getting fatty."  He laughed again. It was nearly 10 before the boys were able to clock out.  Arpeggio, mulling over the workout plans, ended up taking a lunch break and going out to buy some rash guard shirts and workout shorts.  Felipe had bought him a pair of high top white Converse sneakers, so as new as they were, he didn't think he'd need the running shoes.  Since finishing his Rothbart and TC training, he hadn't bought new clothing for gym in ages.  When he and Felipe headed to the gym, Felipe split off to grab something to wear while he got dressed.  He switched to his eyeglasses, removing his contacts, and slipped on a dark, sapphire blue, short-sleeved rash guard, white basketball shorts with a single black line down the side of the legs and long white socks with the cream colored chucks tied in neat bows. He was on the treadmill, in the empty gym--of course, it was nearly 11:30 by now--jogging when Felipe entered.  A thin red pullover hoodie, black shorts, rolled down white socks and a pair of black high top chucks he'd purchased while they were in England.  He took his place next to him on an adjoining treadmill.  Arpeggio kept a brisk pace, occasionally breaking into a sprint as the machine was programmed to increase his pace.  Felipe, unaccustomed to regular exercise, stuck to light jogs mixed with power walking.  He intended to go for at least 30 minutes, but his cardio was seriously lacking, and needed to take it more easier.   He watched Arpeggio from the corner of his vision, catching himself gazing down from his toned legs up to to his chest and then the neckline.  With those glasses, he was kinda....cute.  Felipe started, internally.  When did he start thinking this way?  From their rocky start to now, from those angry 14 years to the easy going friendship at 19, Felipe had started to realize his partner wasn't the tight leash he expected all those years ago.  If anything, it was more like a shadow, a mirror image, opposites that match up to make a whole. But now there was something else about him that he realized was more than friendship or admiration. Lost in these thoughts, both boys finished their workout.  Arpeggio was seeing that halfway through exercising, that Felipe was now distant, distracted.  He tried making small talk as they walked to the elevator, the old rickety lift that was in the back of the apartment building, where few people used it this late at night. As he pushed the call button, Arpeggio, slightly frustrated with his partner's lack of focus, said, "FELIPE."  It was firm but not angry. Rousted from his thoughts, he looked up.  "Uh...yeah?  What?" "What's the matter, Felipe?  You...haven't been listening to a word I've said." The doors finally opened and they stepped in.  "Uh...sorry, I'm....kinda thinking." Arpeggio sighed and leaned against the corner as the door hung open for an inordinate amount of time before closing.  The car made its slow ascent up as Felipe's eyes kept flicking to Arpeggio.  The cute nose, those blue eyes behind the square rimmed glasses.  The now slightly out of place hair, that flared like crows's feathers with a deep black. Something in Felipe cracked.  When they hit the 3rd floor, 2 floors from their apartment, he reached to the panel and hit the emergency stop.  Arpeggio, standing next to it, gave him a puzzled look. "So.  .....You just....did that." he said, his voice with little emotion except mild curiosity.  The glasses hang on the edge of his nose, right where it kinda turns up a little.  Felipe had always thought it was a cute kind of nose.  But for the first time, he's seeing something attractive…in him. The restraint in him finally snapped.  He turned to his partner, and pushed him against the side of the elevator, trapping him.  His hands were on his arms, just above the elbows; their chests against each other, feet fumbling over each others, trying not to trip.  Even as he was asking, Felipe cut him off with a kiss on the mouth.  Firmly covering Arpeggio's with his, muffling the protests, swallowing his voice down, Felipe kept at it.  When he finally pulled back for air, he leaned his weight against him.   Arpeggio's eyes were more animated, still curious, and not as shocked or repulsed as Felipe initially assumed.  There was a fleeting look that he couldn't catch.  Something unfamiliar. Jesus, he thought, they're so damn....blue.....they're so.... Arpeggio started to catch his breath, and a trembling began in the tips of his fingertips.  He was also shocked at his lack of repulsion, as if there was a gentle pull between them both.  The pieces start falling into place; the furtive glances Felipe had been giving him lately, most obviously today at the gym. Jesus.  That can't mean-- Felipe went back in for the kill again, and Arpeggio didn't have the time to process it.  Resuming, Felipe pushed his tongue into his partner's mouth.  Now, they both know he lacked a proper sense of smell.  He could taste, though Felipe had grown used to the fact what he might be tasting is severely weaker than others', and what he tasted was....nothing more than what he can describe as "Arpeggio".  It was warm, but sharp.  Comforting. He wanted more. Arpeggio clumsily followed his lead, nudging his partner's tongue, giving into the warmth.  Arpeggio tasted tobacco, and while he had really never smoked, he wasn't put off by the taste.  It was sweeter than he imagined.  Like tobacco with sugar.  His blue eyes shut as the heat of their bodies started to warm the tiny elevator.  The tiniest of groans escapes from his throat.  He felt a hot tongue run along his neck, up to his earlobe.   His voice whimpered out,in a low purr.   "Felipe…." The cerise-haired young man barely heard it.  His mouth was too busy tasting everything he could.  He could feel Arpeggio's heartbeat in his skin through his lips, and it felt great. The raven-haired boy began trembling uncontrollably, but Felipe gave him a bit of room and groaned back.  "Come on." "Come on what," he whispered, puzzled as his eyes open to look down at him. "Like this," the cerise-haired boy said before deepening a kiss.  The firm yet tender pressure with his lips, slightly sucking on his bottom lip before he let it go.  The way the tongue darts between his lips was coaxing.  Arpeggio, still reeling in the moment and unsure of what he's supposed to do except process these new sensations, could only imitate what Felipe is doing.   He tried to copy the movements, but eventually he felt Felipe pull back. "Haven't you ever done this?" he asked in a slightly frustrated tone.  His eyes appeared disheartened, as if he's expected Arpeggio to react similarly; there was a disappointment in his voice that Arpeggio completely could not understand. "No…." he whispered shaking his head.  They've slid down the side of the elevator, sitting on the ground, Arpeggio in the corner, his legs bent against Felipe. Felipe paused.  Looking into those deep blue eyes, where he usually saw sternness or placid indifference was an intense look.  Somewhere between curiosity and also frustration.  Again, he was struck by the color.  Like glowing sapphire, blue fire.  The deep ocean or the deepest blue in the sky. Arpeggio is similarly entranced.  He always assumed Felipe's eyes were just a deep brown, but this close, he can see that they literally are black.  Like the night sky with no stars.  They pull, and absorb light, a deep black hole that pulled him in.  A deep color that made his pupils seem lighter by comparison.  But they aren't cold; if anything they feel warm and enveloping like a song. Lost in each other's eyes, the silence eventually melted.   "Son of a bitch," replied Felipe, as if someone has told him the scores to a sports game and he's taken aback.  He was red in the face, but so was Arpeggio, but its more noticeable because the TC's skin is so damned light anyway, and its cute Felipe admitted.  "Not even…?" Arpeggio can't figure out what Felipe meant until he followed his eye line.  The magenta haired boy was nodding at his crotch.  The TC couldn't help but flush even harder, so much that even Felipe could feel the heat. "No..." one simple word, but the slight shame and embarrassment it conveyed was practically palpable.  He was aware of the practice at least, but it was clear he'd not indulged what urges he may have had before. At this point, the black-eyed boy flushed too, then leaned in, and kissed him again.  Something about Arpeggio's inexperience made him want him even more.  But the kiss was subtly different to Arpeggio.  Tenderer.  Gentler.  There was an obvious lust but it had a different intensity.   It wasn't until the magenta boy's hands released his, and they began roving over his body, that Arpeggio realized Felipe was holding his hands, gently. Felipe could barely keep his desire in check.  The urgency he had now evolved into something more.  He no longer wanted to conquer his prey.  He now wanted to take, taste, feel everything he had in his hands, slowly, savoring it like the last piece of hard candy in the bowl.  Time let Felipe go, releasing him from the chains of urgency.   Now Time gave him the freedom to make this moment endless. His fingers pressed into his skin, the taut give of his flesh felt like the strings of an instrument.  From his back to his firm ass, his thighs, he ran his fingers along his body, down the knee to ankle, then all the way back up.  He could feel his partner want to arch into him, so he pulled him into an embrace again, nuzzling the nap his his neck and feeling his body arch, tremble and squirm.  Arpeggio dug his fingers into Felipe's back.   He responded with more laps and nips on the neck and lips, then his hands drifted down his chest, to the hem of his shorts. He felt Arpeggio freeze momentarily when his hands slid over his crotch.  It was obvious his body was responding well, because he was hard and completely so, but his eyes are tinged with confusion and some apprehension.  It tore at Felipe's chest a little, seeing his partner so out of his depth, but being horny was winning out.  He bypassed it momentarily, and slid his hands down the boy's legs.  He squeezed his ankles, feeling his muscles flex and wriggle, and it turned him on even more.   He brought up one of his white sneakered feet and gave him a single lustful glance before taking a long, lap. It was not what Arpeggio is expecting so his foot immediately jerked.  "Wh-what are you doing?!" He nipped the laces and lapped the toecap again.  "Its ok." "B-but…that's really…dirty…."  The toes jerked and twitched in anxiousness, wriggling slowly. Felipe put the foot down and gave his knee a small kiss.  "No...it isn't...." His partner looked confused, so Felipe chained kisses from his knee to his ankle, nipping playfully at the socks, until his ran his tongue over the laces, and gave the toecap a gentle kiss. "Its not dirty at all." "I m-mean...I used them...I've been walking around on...the concrete and stuff...and...." He was babbling, not sure of what he was trying to say. Felipe gave him a small smile.  "Pege...." "Yes...?" "Shut up." Arpeggio gave him a look of sheepish defeat and shrugged.  "F-fair enough.  You're...the teacher." "Straight A student right here."  He gave the toecap a few laps before shifting his position back to his original, holding him as he came back up to kiss him.  This time, his right hand found his partner's left, and his fingers entwined as his pressed it gently to the wall of the elevator car. Arpeggio let his body act on its own, squeeing his hand, digging his fingers into Felipe's lower back and ass, enjoying the muscular feel.  Slowly, he pulled him into his embrace, then maneuvered his legs to pull Felipe into him. The move was so unexpected for Felipe, he nearly collapsed into him.  It was...bold, even for Arpeggio. Hesitation finally made Felipe pause.  This was all so new, especially to Arpeggio.  He could feel that his partner was apprehensive, though not scared.  It made him wonder....how much could he do?  How much was too much?  It wasn't as if Arpeggio had told him no outright, but at the same time, he didn't want to overload him.  This move was the first time that he was now initiating new contact without Felipe guiding him or doing it first.  So that means...that it was ok, wasn't it? When he stopped moving, the raven-haired boy looked at him, and saw the deep look of thought on his face.  He flicked his black eyes towards his partner's blue ones, and as he caught his breath, Felipe could feel his own body begin to tremble, trying to hold the weight of his lust and desire as he processed his next moves. "What...?" he asked him, his hands sliding from the young Trancer's back to shoulders. Felipe couldn't find the words.  Caught between his lust for this quite literally virgin territory and his uncertainty of doing too much, he could only stare back at him. "Are you...afraid...I'll break...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Felipe blinked at him in shock.  Can...he read minds...? Arpeggio stared up into his eyes for a long moment.  Then he shut his eyes and nodded once. "I...trust you...." Like a key turning a lock, those three words freed Felipe.  He gave him a small smile and nodded back.  "Y...you're sure...?" "If I wasn't....you'd be a dead man."  He said it with his usual deadpan, placid look, that Felipe nearly laughed out loud.  Arpeggio let his eyes soften . Felipe saw the smallest, most sincere smiles come across his face. He has a smile like an angel. "Fel...?" "This...this is....ok....?" Arpeggio blinked at him, confused.  At this point, he assumed his consent was implicit, but he nodded and smiled at him again, and this time, he realized he was.  "Please...Fel....its....  I need...you to...show me...."  He shook his head and flushed in embarrassment.  "I don't...know.  This is all so new to me." He nodded slowly and kissed him tenderly before he slid his hands down to his waist and then gently and slowly pulled down his shorts.  Arpeggio let out a small whimper, and as Felipe hesitated and looked up at him, he nodded again, blushing.  "W-well, come on....like you've...never seen dick before?" Felipe could sense the baiting was done to put them both at ease, so he gave him a slight smirk.  "Not one as exquisite as this." His partner wrinkled his nose.  "Ok I may be new at this, but that was kinda embarrassing, even for you." Felipe awkwardly smiled.  "Yeah...it was kinda bad...but you make me stupid sometimes, being this fucking cute."  He punctuated that by giving the tip of his erect cock a small kiss. The sensation and newness of the entire thing, made Arpeggio give a small cry and arched his back.  "Nnngh...!" Felipe took one of his partner's hands and gave it a squeeze.  "All right there, Pege?"  There was a slightly sassy tone to it. "D-damn it Felipe...if you don't stop taunting me...I may take back what I said about this being ok...!" "Well, then.  Don't say I didn't try easing you into it."  He leaned over and started to lap and suck gently on him, as Arpeggio let out another groan, digging his fingers into Felipe.  The feelings notwithstanding, the sensations were intense.  The warmth of his tongue over him as he sucked, contrasting with the cooler air when he pulled off and lapped and licked, all sent Arpeggio's mind into a tailspin.  It was everything he could do to keep from bucking his hips or squeezing him between his thighs.  The pressure building inside of him escalated quickly. "Fel...!  W-wait...I'm..." Felipe pulled off his a firm but tender suck and glanced up.  "Pege...let me." "I...I don't...Should...." Felipe let him teeter slightly before diving back down and giving him a firm suck as his tongue swirled around his partner's cock.  The hand holding Arpeggio's squeezed, while the other one pressed the fingertips into his thigh. Arpeggio let out another small cry as he climaxed hard, his head leaning back as he arched.  The sensation was so intense, he nearly blacked out.  Felipe pulled back, swallowing some, but allowing some cum to pump over Arpeggio's crotch and thighs, glistening like pearls.  Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he slid the other from his partner's grasp to his face and pulled him into a kiss.  This time, Arpeggio welcomed the gesture, tasting himself in Felipe's mouth.  It wasn't anything he expected.  He groaned, his body weakly holding on in an attempt to stay conscious.   Felipe pulled back to let them each have some air and gazed into his partner's eyes. They locked gazes, the TC's blue in the Trancer's black.  It was the look of concupiscence in Arpeggio's eyes that pulled Felipe quickly into the ground. All at once, the magnitude of what line he had crossed slammed into him.  They have crossed the line into a place he hadn't considered.  Felipe now knew what that feeling had meant for him, that now he had to confront this feeling he hadn't noticed until this moment. That he had fallen in love with Arpeggio....and that this friendship they had now had changed irreversibly.   Had he broken something precious between them now?  Has he dragged someone who could not possibly understand the significance of such an enormous emotion somewhere he hadn't the right to? Before Arpeggio could ask, the sound of the emergency speaker crackled to life.  A sleepy, disinterested voice came over the static. "Hey.  The board said the elevator stopped.  Anyone in there?" Arpeggio felt his body lock into action, the rapture of the moment evaporating as he found his voice.  "Yes.  We're ok.  There's only 2 of us." "Right.  I'll get it moving in a sec."  The speakers cut out, and before Arpeggio, as he quickly pulled his clothes back together, his legs a little shaky as he rose to his feet, could say anything to Felipe, the lift car lurched into action. Sitting on the floor of the car, the magenta haired boy, shook his head to himself. "What have I done?" Felipe asked in a barely audible whisper, his tone now gone from euphoria to misery. "Fel??"  Puzzled, Arpeggio approached him, to help him up, but his partner only shook his arm free, stood up, and when the doors opened, dashed to the hall.  With difficulty, the TC found the strength to chase after him, but Felipe was faster, leaving the door to their apartment open as he sprinted to his room and slammed the door shut. The raven haired boy didn't even bother shutting their door, so he could try to make it to Felipe's room, but the door wouldn't budge.  It felt as if his partner was leaning against the door.  "Felipe!!  Please...!  Fel, open the door!!" Felipe curled his legs against his chest as he sat against it, and started to cry.   Of all the regrets he'd ever made in his life, this one hurt the most, and he wasn't even sure why he had run, or why he felt so bad.  Only that he felt he'd done something so terribly wrong to someone he now loved with his whole heart. For the first time in his life, Felipe was scared that he'd fallen in love with someone.

E.Q.--Be The One

Felipe and Arpeggio finally connect.  Inspired also by the song Matt Berry’s Take My Hand”.  Click here for the previous story, The Lift.

~~~

Felipe hit the hardest rock bottom of any emotional hole he'd ever fallen into.  As he leaned against his door, weeping, he balled handfuls of his hair in his fists.

He could hear Arpeggio pounding on his door.  "Felipe!!  Please...!  Fel, open the door!!"

He wedged himself against the door and cried into his knees.  Music Corps doors often didn't have locks for non TC members, but Arpeggio didn't try forcing it open.  Hearing his partner softly cry on the other side was a lock in of itself.  

There was a heavy, long silence, stretching between them.  The young TC stared at the door for a long time before he softly said, "I'll...I be here...if you need me."

He didn't get an answer.  He silently slid to his knees and leaned his back against Felipe's door.  He could very nearly feel his heat through the wood.  Gazing down at his hands in his lap, Arpeggio tried to sort out all his thoughts.  Logically, as he had been trained to do.  But now he was dealing with something that felt so out of his depth that he could see a logical sorting of his thoughts wasn't going to be sufficient.

What just happened?

I think...we just had an intimate relationship.

Did I do something wrong in it?

I don't know.

Why is Felipe upset?

I don't know.

Is this supposed to happen?

I don't know.

What does this all mean?

I don't know.

Arpeggio felt his body droop.  The unknowns in the situation were unbearable.

Felipe wept hard into his knees, curling his arms around them.  

You idiot.  You fucking idiot.  How could you?  HOW COULD YOU??  With anyone else, besides Arpeggio.  Your best friend.  YOUR BEST FRIEND, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.  How could you do this to him?  What could you possibly do for him?  You piece of trash, you idiot.

He couldn't even control his own thoughts to make them coherent; not that it mattered.  All Felipe knew was that he hated himself for doing this to him.  For falling in love with someone who didn't need that useless drama in his life.  For dragging him down to his level.  

Not Arpeggio.  This was someone destined for greatness.  Someone beyond him.  Someone so perfect, with eyes like an angel.  Talent as vast as an ocean.  

Felipe cried harder.  Because a part of him, deep down, wanted to be a part of that.  Wanted to be with him.  He loved him more than he realized.  And it scared him to the bone.

Arpeggio gazed at the ceiling.  Things had changed.  Radically.  He knew that.  People don't just suck another's cock and kiss that deep if there wasn't some kind of affection, Arpeggio reasoned, even Felipe.  Felipe loved hard.  He loved every one of his paramours with every inch in his heart.  He knew that more than anything.  Its why his heart broke so hard when things went wrong.  

It hit Arpeggio.

Felipe.  Felipe is....did he?

For me...?

Evidence certainly pointed to the conclusion.  But he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.  They had been friends, sure.  Such affection can evolve into something more, couldn't it?  

Was this a friends with benefits thing instead?  Still.  If it was, and it was so loose....why is Felipe so upset...?  Wasn't this cause for celebration?  Not depression?

Arpeggio put a hand to his face and tried to sort it out, but felt missing pieces of information.  He signed heavily.  He didn't understand a bit of all of this and part of him grew frustrated.  He was completely ill-equipped to deal with anything concerning the heart.

Something had changed between them, and this all had a weight to it that even Arpeggio could recognize.  He just couldn't fathom the reason.

Felipe felt as if he had cried out all the water in his body but he couldn't stop.  His chest squeezed so hard he could barely breathe.  

I...I want to be with him...I want to be with him....  He shook his head furiously.  You can't be with him...you don't deserve this.  You can't go back to the way things were.  You broke it.  You broke everything.  You fucked up.  You fucked up, you fucked up.  You ruined this.

He began to cry harder.

Arpeggio could hear him, and this time, hearing Felipe cry hurt him.  It actually hurt.  He could feel a terrible pressure in his chest.  It wasn't something he had felt before.  He gently raised his hand and knocked every so gently with the back of his hand.

"Felipe...?"  He waited, heard the smallest of pauses in the weeping, then knocked again, a little harder.  He couldn't face the door, so he looked at the ceiling, his back against it.  "Felipe...please...open the door."

He stopped crying.  There was a small wave of relief that washed over Arpeggio.

"Let...me talk to you, Felipe...?"

Felipe caught himself sitting up, his hand reaching to the knob.  His doubt and guilt chained it back down, and his hand fell limply to his lap.  Shutting his eyes, there was a gentle tug at his mind.  To let go and just ignore the world.  The sweet beaconing of wanting to run away, to that dark sleep he'd once run to before.  So tempting, seductive.  He wanted to run away from everything but didn't.  Something kept him there.

The silence was almost as unbearable as the weeping and Arpeggio tried again.  "Fel...I'm...I'm not angry with you.  I just want to know why you're so upset....I'm worried...."  He turned his head to look at the door.  Meekly, softly, he asked, "Did I....do something wrong...?"

Felipe heard the guilt in his voice, the guilt that Arpeggio thought he'd done something wrong.  Now that Arpeggio was taking on the guilt--he was making him take the guilt--that wasn't his, it hurt so much more.  He had to force his voice.  "N-no...!  You didn't...you don't do anything wrong."  He began to cry again.  "No...I'm...its me....  I'm the one...."

He was taken aback by the tone, the palpable sense of guilt in his voice.  "You...?  You didn't do...anything, Felipe....  You haven't done anything wrong...."

His partner shook, trying to hold himself together.  "I did...I've done something...I've crossed a line, Arpeggio, and I....I'm....I'm sorry....  I'm so sorry, Arpeggio...."  He pressed his face against his knees again

He shook his head, though Felipe couldn't see it.  "You think...what we did...you did something wrong?  That's not true, Felipe."

The innocence of the statement made Felipe's eyes sting.  "Pege...Pege, I'm so sorry....  I've...broken something between us."

Things are beginning to click for him.  "Change isn't a breakdown, Felipe."

He tried to swallow his sobs.  "You...you don't understand."

"I...I don't.  I don't understand why this...hurts you so much.  Why you're so worried about...messing up what we have.  I don't understand at all...what we've done hasn't...messed anything up, I think....  Especially...when what we...shared was so..."  He grappled with words.  "Honestly....it was...wonderful...."

It stopped Felipe instantly.  His heart began to soar, without bidding.  Arpeggio...thought it was...wonderful...?  His heart beat faster, trying to escape those bars of guilt and fear Felipe was trying to build around it, and yet...guilt slammed the cage shut.

I can't...I can't do this to him.  I can't pull him down with me...when he deserves so much more....

"Pege...."  Another sob engulfed his voice.  He was being pulled in two by euphoric love and panicked despair.  "You...felt...?"

Without thinking, Arpeggio blurted out, "It felt good, Fel."

Another silence descended.  Felipe couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, but Arpeggio wasn't the type to just lie to smooth things over.

He continued.  "You haven't...hurt me.  You didn't break me....  I may be new at this....but I didn't hate or dislike it....  You didn't do anything...wrong.  Just like I said."

Felipe could feel Arpeggio behind him, so close.  The door was warm.  He let it all sink into him, silent a long time.  Then he moved from the door to the end of his bed, leaning against that as he sat on the floor.  It was a gulf of maybe a yard or less; he couldn't even let himself enjoy his partner's warmth on his back.

Arpeggio heard the barest of shifting; could sense Felipe has moved.  The extra distance was confirmed by the distance his his voice.

"I...I've crossed a line, Arpeggio.  And I...didn't ask your permission....I wanted....  It....it took us this...long....to just....  Just be friends...."  He couldn't figure out what he was trying to say.

Arpeggio let out the softest of chuckles.  "Aren't you...thinking about it too much...?  Aren't you the type to just simply let feelings be?"

It came out of Felipe's mouth, unbidden, suddenly: "That was before I fell in love with you!"

It hung in the silence, and Felipe couldn't take it back.

After an aching caesura, Arpeggio quietly asked, "....May....I come in...?"

Felipe buried his head against his knees again and shook.  

He nodded.

Somehow, Arpeggio felt it.

The door opened.

Felipe, slowly, looked up from his knees, black eyes swimming with guilt and shame.  Arpeggio's breath caught in his throat, seeing the open despair on his face.  He'd seen it before.  This time it hurt so much more.

Because buried in the midst of those emotions was the naked and stark look of longing.

"Felipe...?"

He couldn't bear meeting those deep sapphire eyes so he turned away.  "I...I'm so sorry....this...this isn't what you need."

"That's not true."

"I've done a terrible thing."

"You haven't....  Not at all."  He knelt to him but he wouldn't meet his eyes.  "Felipe....please....look at me."

"I can't...."

"....Is....is it me...?  Is it because....of what or...who I am?  Is it that....I don't know....anything about this kind of stuff...?"

Felipe fumbled, grappled with words, none of them what he needed.  Finally, he settled on something more concrete.

"I'm....I'm scared."

He was quiet for a bit before he asked, "Of...what?"

Felipe was silent longer now, unable to meet his eyes.  It was more like Arpeggio was staring at a photograph than watching a live person in front of him, but for the breathing.  He was so still.  It struck something inside of the TC.  To see something so vibrant so....still.

"I'm afraid...of...all of this," he said vaguely, waving his hand slightly, as if trying to clear vapor or smoke from the air.  "I'm scared I'll...ruin you...I'm afraid of what this means between us.  I'm...I'm terrified that...I'll...."

Arpeggio opened his mouth to try to refute it, but Felipe kept on, words tumbling faster and faster in an avalanche.  "Felipe, listen to me--"

"I'm so fucking scared this is wrong, that I did wrong, that you don't need this--"

"Fel--"

"I'm scared, Pege, I'm scared I'm...I'm scared I'll..."

"Fel, please, you're not--"

Their voices overlap, unheeding of their own cadence, so uncharacteristically out of sync, an emotional cacophony. 

"I love you too fucking much to hurt you!" Felipe shouted, his voice cracking, and he tore himself from the close quarters of the floor, as Arpeggio moved back.  A moment of syncronization amid the chaos.  His back to his partner, he leaned over the bed and grasped the sheets in white knuckled despair.  He was crying.

"I don't want to hurt you," he sobbed.  "I'm so scared I'm gonna hurt you....I love you too much to hurt you."

Arpeggio threw his arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

It was so sudden and unexpected, it stopped Felipe dead in his tracks, his breath catching and holding.

The TC nearly let go in his own surprise of the action.  It just spilled from him, seeing the pain in Felipe.  But he held on.

Because he was scared too.

He was afraid of losing everything, and by letting go, he would let it fall from his fingers and shatter, irreparable and final.

"Please, Fel," he said, his own voice a counterpoint: low, quiet but no less emotional and cracking at the seams.  "Please...."

Felipe heard for the first time an emotion, a pain so like his own that he barely exhaled.  He was too afraid to move, lest he too would break the spell.

"Felipe....don't....please don't run away."

It sounded odd when he said it but at the same time the right thing to say.  A million thoughts ricocheted in his head; run away from what?  He wasn't going anywhere....

Felipe didn't move.  A feeling of a drop loomed over him, the Dancer's Anticipation.  Wholly different yet wholly the same.

"Fel...."  In one syllable, Arpeggio felt tears start to roll down his cheeks.  He was crying.

When was the last time he'd wept?

Did that matter?

"Fel....please....  Don't....don't do this to yourself....  I meant....I meant it.....  It was wonderful, I swear to God, I....I don't want to lose....you....I don't want to lose this...."  Nothing he was saying was making sense, and Arpeggio's head was splitting between the logic and illogic of what he was trying to say, and the emotions and feeling of what his heart was saying.  His arms trembled and as he cried softly, they slowly dropped off of Felipe.  He brought his hands to his face and wept harder, harder than he ever had before.  

He'd never cried like this before.  

Ever.

It made him weep even harder.

He was scared too.

Felipe turned and watched him, seeing Arpeggio openly show such a powerful emotion was arresting.  He could scarcely believe it was happening.  And it hurt, seeing it.  This was never something he wanted for him.  Not for the man he now loved so much.

Felipe reached out to him, wanting to hold him.  It was automatic.  He'd done it so many time before, comforting people around him when they felt bad.  It was anything anyone would do if they had a heart.

Even Arpeggio had just now.

His heart skipped a few beats.

Even Arpeggio had.

Arpeggio had held him to comfort him.

Arpeggio had reached out to him.

Arpeggio....

Felipe threw his arms around him, held him, pressing his fingers gently into that beautiful raven black-blue hair and held him as tight as he could without smothering him.

"Pege...."  He was amazed his own voice was steady now, calm.  "Please...don't cry."

Arpeggio slid his arms around Felipe, pressing his fingers into his back.  "Fel...for the....for the first...."

His voice was muffled, so Felipe gave him more room, pulling back but still holding him.  Looking into those beautiful sapphire eyes.

Arpeggio, taken aback by his look, caught his breath, staring into endless pools of black before his voice found him again.

"For the first time....I felt...like...I was...."  He paused.  He wasn't sure how to say it.

Felipe tried to coax him.  "....loved...?"

Arpeggio shook his head.  "........human."

The 2 syllables, the single word, made Felipe's face open up in despondent shock.  He opened his mouth but Arpeggio reached up with a single finger and placed it over his lips.  Like a spell, the young man nodded slightly.

"All my life....I'd been treated like....you said it when we were first working together....  I was....just...."  His face cycled through a few emotions, trying to say the right words but only settled on the most common.  "A plank...."

The starkness of the word nearly made them both start to laugh, but Felipe, seeing these automatic emotions happen on something like Arpeggio was in of itself what made him stop and listen.

"I knew....I know what people say about me.  You and I talk about it often....  And Fel, its not as if I never believed you....  When you told me I was human...or....normal....  I always believed you, even...even if I could express it or tell you....  I was used to being the Corps' weapon...to be a tool.  I grew up nearly all my life with that...."

"Pege," he said but he stopped.  Arpeggio had more to say.

"But for the first time....I actually....I felt it with you.  I felt...human....I felt emotion....  Its not as if I haven't but....  Jesus Christ...in the last hour or so....I felt like....I was feeling years of these things I'd never felt before.  I felt...what it was like to...be...."  He paused, his face growing red from the memories of the moment.  "I felt what it felt like to....uh...."

Felipe took the opportunity to fill it in, just to keep him going.  "Climax...?"

"More than that...." Arpeggio said, still flushed, even harder now that the word was spoken.  "I felt what....I felt like I had...agency...I had a choice."  He rushed in.  "I told you...you didn't force yourself on me...I didn't just let  it happen.  I....I wanted to do it....I've never done anything like it but I had the choice and I wanted....I wanted to go on.  I felt..."

He took a few long breaths, trying to find the words.  Felipe didn't bother filling it in.  He wanted to hear him say it, from the heart.

"I felt loved."

Felipe felt his eyes sting.

"I felt....human."

He nodded, but Arpeggio reached up and gently took Felipe face in his trembling hands.

"I felt free."

The three words struck Felipe in the heart, and he felt more emotional over those 3 simple words than if he'd heard Arpeggio say "I love you."

They started at each others' eyes for a long time, their hearts beating hard.

"And...." Arpeggio tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat--he marveled that this wasn't just something he read in stories, that this was something that could actually happen--and it hurt.  He felt his eyes fill with tears as his fear rose to the surface again.  "And I'm afraid...I'm afraid of losing this....I'm scared of...never feeling it again.  I don't want to lose this feeling, Fel...."

He started to cry again.  

"Felipe....I don't want to go back to the way I was....I don't want to lose this....I know you're scared.  I know you're scared of hurting me...but....but that...." He let out another sob, full of sadness.  "Felipe please....  I don't want to lose my humanity...."

Felipe let out a sob too, realizing he too was crying.  He held him, pulling him close, and gave him a kiss on the forehead.  When Arpeggio's face looked up at him, he leaned in and kissed him.  It lacked the primal lust from before but was replaced with an intense, enveloping warmth.

"You won't," Felipe whispered, his forehead against his partner's, his lips barely brushing his.  "You wont....because its always been there...."  Felipe winced in the horrendous inadequacy of that so he took a breath and looked him dead in the eyes, straight to his heart.  "I love you, Arpeggio....  I'm sorry....I'm sorry it took so long to realize it....and....and I'm sorry if it will hurt you...hurt us, but...."  He took another long breath.

"I'll never let you go.  Where you go, I go.  I love you.  I love who you are, everything about you....no matter where you think you came from or what you think you are....I'll always love you.  So...don't worry.  I'm not gonna go anywhere.  Not without you."

Arpeggio trembled, his eyes lighting up in a way Felipe had never seen, and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  He did smile like an angel.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

E.Q.--Nuregarasu

Sodden crow feathers.

~~~

Felipe swam laps back and forth in the gym on the district building's campus.  His hair transitioning from green, the chlorine helped in the bleaching process for his hair.  Summertime was his time to hit the pool more often, and a California boy no longer close to the oceans had to make due with whatever body of water he could get.  Felipe didn't know how to surf, but he loved the water. After about 10 laps, he finally slowed and floated, face up, shutting his eyes.  Sounds of the empty pool caressed his submerged ears.  He liked heated pools, since his cold resistance was low.   Maybe I could go more teal blue this time, he thought to himself.  The color of the pool. There was the sound of a muted splash and his body bobbed from waves.  He snapped his eyes open and quickly stood up in the shallow part of the pool.  Someone has entered the pool, and from the ripples, it was from the diving board.  The figure swam quickly, like a fish to the shallower side. Arpeggio surfaced, quickly and shook the water from his head, wiping his face. Felipe gave him a wry look.  "Man...I had the pool to myself." "Mmm."  He made his way to the end of the pool and backed to the wall before submerging and taking off like an arrow, swimming laps.  The green-haired boy shrugged and went back to floating, occasionally bobbing a little as Arpeggio's wake washed over him.  He didn't know how long he'd been swimming until he gently made contact with the edge of the pool, the wake making him drift gently.  He stood up and slicked his hair back. Arpeggio was switching to the breast stroke on his way back. "You're pretty good." "Part of the training.  I haven't been swimming in awhile.  Forgot the gym had a pool." "Its heated," Felipe said in a way that made Arpeggio cock his head slightly.  "What?" "Its a little to warm for me." "You must like the cold." "It helps in swimming laps...to me."  Arpeggio nodded at the water.  "Wanna?" Felipe laughed and it was a friendly laugh that Arpeggio was beginning to hear more and more. "Nah.  You'd dust me."  He drifts back and floats.  "But you're welcome to float with me." "Even exercising, you're lazy."  His ears muffled, Felipe could barely hear him. "Mmhmm." Arpeggio was preparing to start another set when Felipe rolled over and submerged himself, kicking off the wall and swimming beneath the surface gently.  The raven-haired boy did the same, swimming to catch up.  Felipe moved gracefully beneath the water, no formal poise but with the natural movements as if he was born beneath the waves.  They both surfaced, their lungs aching. Felipe gave him a smile, small and friendly.  Arpeggio blinked and nodded at him gently.  His face remained placid and deadpan.  They both headed to the side and climbed out, going for their towels, Felipe's an apple red, and Arpeggio's a deep blue. Felipe looked back at his partner and noted the color of his hair.  One of the few times he'd seen it soaked, it was the normal color of jet-black, like his own eyes, but wet, it had the subtle colors of dark blue and deep green.  Oil slick and reflective.  It reminded Felipe of the color of a sodden crow, more so as he dried his hair with the towel and the hair began to spike out and flare like feathers.  Drier, the emerald and almost amethyst violet disappeared from the highlights but the deep blue remained, like sapphire embedded in onix.   Arpeggio caught him staring.  "What is it?" Felipe found his cheeks flushing as he turned and started to dry his hair.  "Nothing." ~~

The next day, Arpeggio blinked in surprise as Felipe, dressed for work, came out of his room.  His hair was the deepest, coolest, more dramatic color he'd seen it so far in their 2 years of working together.  A deep cobalt that was nearly black, with only sparing streaks of a lighter, but no less blue. He had a look on his face that was curious abut also slightly apprehensive, as if wanting approval.  "Yeah?" Arpeggio looks at him, taking it all in, and finally Felipe sighs. "Way too dark?" ".............." ".............." "Blue...isn't your color." Felipe droops slightly but Arpeggio shakes his head.  "It looks good...but...." The now cobalt haired boy looks up, almost chastised. "You...you seem more like a red and orange kind of person.  Warm colors....like fire." Felipe blinked, as if he'd never been told that.  They paused, then, "Well.  Too late now." They both laughed, quietly.  Another silence settled gently over them. "Tungsten's gonna FREAK." "Yeah.  I think he will."

E.Q.--Je Suis Seul Ce Soir

After their first impression, Felipe and Arpeggio begin their long journey together as the soon to be infamous Trancer 42.  Guest starring Trancer 8392.

~~~~

Arpeggio, outside of when he was told to work with Felipe, didn't see much of him in free time.  Just a few months, get him acclimated to the Corps, then I can choose someone else, he kept thinking.  He didn't think he'd have this much of a hard time forming himself a Trancer, but perhaps Fate had other plans for him, as if to pay him back from leaving the Metal designation. Had Fate worked with Fleace as long as he had to, perhaps she too would find gainful employment elsewhere. Rumors said he was always at Dance-Easies, and that made him more irritated.  Why didn't they just throw him into a detention center?  At his age, he'd have probably been out before a single Corps gig was completed. At 15 years old, Arpeggio felt like he was well into his 40s.  On the other hand, Felipe, though the same age, acted as if he were younger, giving into tendencies and instincts children should have learnt to curb by middle school. They began sharing an apartment right after their first encounter, in fact, he'd taken the young man, fiery red hair and narrow, jet black eyes, back to his own apartment in a MC owned block just outside the district building's campus.  Whatever he had on him when he was selected and shipped to Chicago boiled down to 2 duffel bags and a white and black motorcycle that was shipped by the end of the week.  He couldn't believe that someone too young for a license actually owned it, and the redhead had the registration to prove it. That first week was awkward.  Felipe refused to say much to him, and Arpeggio only treated him with mild disdain at worst, and indifference at best.  Instrumental aptitude was negligible.   But Felipe was a virtuoso at one thing and that was electronic music.  The moment he got his hands on a few remedial sample packs and a computer to work on, he'd pumped out a song in the time it took for Arpeggio to get bottles of water from a vending machine down the hall.  That was when Arpeggio saw a different side to his new partner.  There was a look of quiet serenity when he worked that melted away the defiance and hard edges.  Sometimes a look of childlike wonder would appear as he scanned the dozens of sample packs they were given, other times it would transform into something knowing, as if he was remembering something.  But when they left the machines behind, the "old" Felipe came out.  Or perhaps it was the "first" Felipe, the one the TC first met in that meeting room.  Truculent, quiet, occasionally dark. The second week, they lapsed into a more comfortable routine.  Later mornings than Arpeggio was used to since the boy slept in, lunch during office work or practice work, then more practice in pacification protocols, then back to the apartment.  He never left his side, mostly because Emi warned of flight risk.  He hadn't yet caught Felipe at a dance easy, but those rumors were still there.  He seemed to be in bed the whole time, and he was a light sleeper.  Surely he'd have heard him escaping, or at least tripping the apartment alarm. One day, he met Felipe at their desk.  "Felipe?" "Mm?"  The redhead was typing at a computer terminal, trying to fill in paperwork for his designation, to more accurately place him in the machine that was the Music Corps. "I need to do some work in another building.  I won't be able to escort you back home.  Will you make sure you clock out right on time?" "Mm."  He nodded absently and clicked a few boxes. Arpeggio sighed inwardly and went to the hall, but before he left, he added, "And go straight home." "What are you, my mom?" snapped the boy giving him a sour look.  He was rewarded with a glare from hard sapphire blue eyes but Arpeggio didn't want to pursue it and left. 5 hours later, at least 3 after Felipe should have clocked out, he returned to the office.  Checked their time clock.  He'd indeed clocked out at the right time, so he went to check Felipe's computer to see how much he'd gotten done.   Instead of the paperwork, there was a single text document that was full of a single phrase: All work and no play makes Felipe a dead boy.  Arpeggio rolled his eyes and shut down the computer.  He passed the district building, taking the path that went towards the living quarters.  There was a small courtyard by the square shaped apartment complex, and it had a small, paltry playground in it; nothing more than a swing set with 2 swings, synthetic sand and a plastic slide.  There was a bench opposite of it, for parents to watch their children.  There weren't many families in their apartment complex; in fact Arpeggio really only knew 1 family and their children were now in middle school, on a fast-track to the Corps. Felipe was sitting on one of the swings, his back to Arpeggio, facing the arch way of the main entrance, where the setting sun was turning the sky orange. It was another side of him he didn't expect to see.  His shoulders were hunched slightly, the swing barely swaying, the tips of his toes of his sneakers buried in the sand, his hands languidly holding the chain of the swing as he stared absently at the sky. "Felipe…?" The boy's head snapped up and he turned to look as the swing swayed sideways slightly. "What?"  His eyes were guarded, hostile, with fleeting looks of embarrassment, or maybe ashamed to have been caught like that. Arpeggio quietly walked up towards him, mildly surprised at the hostility with no provocation.  "What's the matter?" "Nothing's the matter," he said petulantly, standing up and heading towards the apartment building, hands in pockets. "Did you forget your keys or something?" he asked as he caught up, only quickening his pace slightly. Felipe only gave him a glare and lapsed into silence.  It lasted until they went to their separate rooms and they shut their doors.  There was a nagging feeling Arpeggio had seen something he shouldn't have.

~~

Arpeggio was taking a tablet back to the armory when someone called his name.  It was his day off and he'd left Felipe, sullen and quiet, in the apartment.  Even on their days off, he never asked or knew what his partner did.  Still, that was no reason not to get chores or errands done, and today he had to return extra equipment. "Arpeggio??"  A young teen with brown hair and bright blue eyes approached him.  He was followed by an even younger teen with black hair and teal colored eyes. "Sharp?" said Arpeggio as his face broke into the closest his face could come to as a smile: his eyes lightened, and a very faint smile appeared on his face.  "I didn't know you were in this district.  How have you been?" They shook hands heartily, and the other teen gave him a gentle look of welcome, though his face nor mouth smiled. "My goodness.  It feels like forever," Sharp said.  "I haven't seen you since we finished upper division Classico training."  His eyes drop to the TC's shoulder, where the blue armband is printed with the number 42.  Most members of the Music Corps would do that automatically, checking the armband, or if one was lacking, the shirt or blazer pocket where one's designation was embroidered.  Armbands were usually colored according to the division one worked with, and the colors were the easy way of seeing where one worked.  Sharp's armband was also blue, a sort of cobalt, and was embroidered with the number 8392.  His companion wore an identical one. Arpeggio took in the color quickly.  "Trancer?  I heard you were a shoo-in for the cinematic Classicos." Sharp's eyes shut as he gives a short exhalation; its not annoyance, but rather as if he was told something he already knew.  Arpeggio didn't push. "I could say the same…  Are you…busy?  Perhaps we can catch up over something to drink?  I'm showing Tungsten around the building." Arpeggio shook hands with the young boy, who couldn't have been older than 12.  Sharp used a non-musical name, which meant that the boy had to have been outside the TC breeding programs; all TC's had musical terms as names, outside of their numbers.  Still, he was awful young to have been enlisted or drafted. The raven-haired man nodded and followed them to the mess hall. ~~

Laika, a young girl of 14, was trying to carry a stack of paper copies, a box of office supplies and a cup of coffee.  It was a hard juggling act that she was losing quickly.  As she passed the small playground and a bench by her apartment complex, she tried to slow down since the box began to wobble in her hand.  Suddenly, her foot caught an uneven spot on the sidewalk and she stumbled forward, gravity pulling her down into an unwanted embrace. An arm caught her at the waist as another steadied her, and her armful of items crashed to the ground.  She looked up, her voice surprised. "I'm sorry!" A young teen about her age had caught her, his face a little surprised as swell as concerned.  His red hair nearly matched the color of the sunsetting sky.  "Are you ok?" She nodded as she straightened and he let go.  As she dusted her uniform off, she looked at her items and cried out in dismay.  The coffee had spilled all over the paper copies and the office supplies were sitting in the puddle. The boy knelt quickly with her to try to assess the damage.  The copies were soaked, but only the box was damaged.  The paperclips and other items were mostly intact and dry. "Noooo."  She moaned in distress.  "I don't have any more money for those!" The boy picked up the box and looked at the puddle.  She looked at him. "Did you need them today?" he asked. "Yeah…in an hour actually."  Her face looked ready to cry.  He hefted the box on an arm and motioned at her.  "Well, come on." Laika frowned at him.  "Huh?" "We'll put it on my supplies card.  You said you didn't have any money." "I couldn't," she insisted, but he only smiled at her. In the copy place in the ground floor of their apartment, he handed her his card and punched in his pin number.  She gratefully started printing a set of copies as he fetched a new box from the cashier. "Thank you," she said, sitting in a chair.  "I only brought enough to cover the copies and something to drink…I thought I could take it all back by myself." "That's a long walk to the nearest building," he said.   "I'm Laika," she said, giving him his hand.  "I'm in Trancer 8392." "I noticed," the boy said as he took her hand and nodded at her armband.  "I heard you recently…at a Trancer orientation.  I'm Felipe." She curiously cocked her head.  "Oh?  You're a Trancer too?  Which one?" He paused as an unidentified look crossed his face, but he covered it up with a smile.  "42." "Arpeggio's Trancer???" she asked, her face surprised.   Felipe frowned slightly.  "He some sorta celebrity around here?" She blinked it him.  "You didn't know?" "He barely gives me the time of day." "Well…you're new here, aren't you?  TC's take a little time to…warm up." "He's a plank," he said bluntly, and it was the bluntness as well as the annoyed delivery that made her laugh.  "What?" "Nothing…its just funny.  How you said that."  She had a musical laugh, and it made him smile warmly.  "What were you doing out there, all by yourself?" "Waiting for an angel to fall down and have me buy her a coffee."  He said it with such confidence and without a hint of being disingenuous that it made her flush. "They pay you extra to chase skirts in 42?" she asked. He grinned at her as the copier finished.  "Hell no.  I do that for free."

~~

Another day off, just after lunch, and Arpeggio was headed to the district building to practice a few instruments.  Felipe wasn't in the living room or his own room, so he shrugged to himself and left.  He found him out on the swings again.  He didn't really say anything or bother him, so he went along on his business.   It wasn't until just shy of 10:30 he came back and Felipe was still there.  He was a little surprised.  Surely he hadn't been there all day? "Felipe?" The boy put out his cigarette in the sand and stretched, following his partner without a word.  Arpeggio made a note of the numerous cigarette butts around the receptacle near the bench across the playground.  He didn't bring it up at all, but wondered.   The next day, Arpeggio ran into Sharp and Tungsten in the hall.  Felipe cocked his head as his eyes fell on the blue armband, and had a light look of recognition. "Hello Sharp.  How's the orientation for Tungsten going?"   Tungsten gave Arpeggio and Felipe a welcoming smile.  "Really exhausting but its fun." Casually, Felipe nodded in greeting and asked, "Where's Laika?" Sharp gave him a look of surprise and Tungsten matched it.  Arpeggio frowned and glanced at him.   "Laika?" asked Arpeggio.   "Their singer…but I guess she doesn't sing much."  Felipe shrugged and had his hands in his pockets. Sharp nodded.  "That's right.  I recruited her recently…just after Tungsten.  She's marvelous on the synths too." The redhead gave him a coy yet suggestive smile but didn't say anything. Tungsten had a look of thought then brightened.  "Oh, you must be the one who helped her bring the supplies the other time!" He grinned.  "Hmm.  Maybe." Arpeggio hadn't heard about this at all.  But before he could ask, his partner stretched and headed down the hall.   "I'm gonna go back to the office." "You're not hungry?" he asked.  He hadn't seen Felipe eat that day yet. "Nah."  He waved without turning back to the three.  "Nice meeting the rest'a ya." When he was around the corner, Tungsten noticed the look of unease on Arpeggio's face.  "What's the matter, 42?" He inhaled and exhaled slowly, crossing his arms, his eyes still down the hall.  "I don't…know." "You're not getting along with him?" The TC thought back to the numerous and tiny office pranks Felipe played on his own desk when he was out of the office.  All work no play, the monitor covered in pink post-it notes, the little forts he built with folders or other office supplies.  They had the air of someone who was looking for something to do, to get a rise out of someone.  Like a dog who tears up the house when bored and alone. "I'm…not sure.  He's…."  He can't find the words.  "Yesterday was our day off…so I came here to practice.  He was at the park by our apartment." "Oh.  Laika mentioned that.  He's always there when he's not working," Tungsten remarks.  It makes Sharp and Arpeggio look at him.  "That's where they met." The raven-haired man nodded.  "That's right…he always seems to be there when he's off, before I get home.  Well, yesterday was…different.  He was there when I left.  And he was there when I came back." Sharp frowned.  "But Arpeggio, I was here too…and we didn't clock out until well after 10 pm." He nodded again.  "That's right.  And I don't think…he had moved or gone anywhere else."  He leaned against the wall and frowned slightly.  "He must have been there…for nearly 10 hours.  By himself." An awkward silence settled on the 3 of them as they gazed down the hall where he had been. "Have you seen him hang out with anyone else?" asked Tungsten gently and quietly.   Arpeggio shook his head. Another silence settled down, then the young boy finally said, his voice tinged with pity and concern.   "Maybe…he doesn't have any friends…."

~~

Felipe was on the bench, laying out and starting at the clouds in the darkening sky when he heard a familiar sound of rubber sneakers on the concrete.  A light gait, if a little hesitant. "What's up, Laika?" "Its not Laika," came another voice.   He sat up, surprised to see Tungsten walking over hesitantly.  The teen sat up and motioned for him to sit down.  "Huh.  You walk like her." The boy gave him a comically upset look, his teal colored eyes widening.  "You mean I walk like a girl?" Felipe burst out laughing, not expecting it.  It was a gentle laugh that came from the chest, and had tinges of relief. "Sorry…I didn't properly introduce myself.  I'm Tungsten." "Yeah.  I heard a lot about you from Laika."  He leaned back in the bench.  "She's very…talkative." "Its what I like best about her," the boy says, beaming. "And here I thought you were more the boyfriend type," he chuckled, and when the boy gave him a flustered curious look, he continued.  "The way she goes on about you and Sharp, I'da thought you were her age.  She's a big sister type to you…or maybe that's the appeal?" He flushed.   Felipe smiled gently.  "But she's so sweet, I can understand." "She makes friends easily." The redhead blinked and nodded.  "Yeah…its nice." "Don't you?" Felipe only looked at him curiously.  "What makes you say that?" "You seem so nice." He cringed.  "I'm an asshole."  He paused.  Then, "Sorry, pardon my slang." Tungsten shook his head.  "Don't you have friends?" It was blunt.  Had it been anywhere else, he'd have shut down and walked away.  But he couldn't do that to a child, even if he wasn't much of a child or would be one for very long. "No.  I'm not from around here."  His eyes had a brief look of loneliness. "Where are you from?"   "California." The boy's green-blue eyes were wide.  "Wow!  So far away!  That's pretty cool to come a long way by yourself." He had to admit.  It was cute, so he smiled.  "Its not so far.  I mean, its not like New York." "New York is big and scary." "Of course, to a little mushroom like you," Felipe said good-naturedly.  He looked at his phone.  "Speaking of.  Its getting late…better get home while its still light." "Hey…I'm a Trancer.  I'm not just some random kid." Felipe gave him a sheepish grin.  "Still." "How's this?"  Tungsten hopped off the bench and pointed.  "I'll walk you home so you're safe." He raised an eyebrow and smiled.  "And how do you know where I live??" "Laika told me." "She's a chatterbox." "Yup."

~~

A few weeks later, Laika found herself bored in the apartment.  She would occasionally peek out to the courtyard to check the park.  She didn't see Felipe for most of her day, knowing he'd be off.  Eventually, she decided to take a walk.  Tungsten was napping, which was his usual mode on his days off, sleeping for an hour, reading, then sleeping for more. She passed the park which was empty.  She sat on the swing for a little, swinging.  Then, growing bored, she left, and took a lap around the block.   On her return trip, as the day began to go from sunny yellow to warming orange, there he was, sitting on a swing, just staring off into the sky.  He had the air of a caged bird longingly watching the birds outside.   He said, "What took you so long?" "I was gonna ask you the same thing."  She sat in the other swing. "Am I turning into yours and Tungsten's little experiment?"  Its said with only a shade of bitterness, but its mostly defeated. She looked at him with wide and dismayed eyes.  He gave it a glance and turned his eyes downwards. "A bitter heart that refuses sweetness will always remain bitter."  She said it quietly, and her voice had a shade of hurt. They were quiet a little while, then he said, just as quietly, "You cannot teach the falcon to swim, nor teach the fish to fly even if you want to." She wrinkled her nose.  "The hell is that kinda fortune cookie bullshit?" He chuckled.  "I'm from San Francisco.  We make fortune cookies."  He swung lightly.  "Tungsten's just a little kid…so that's one thing.  But you're spoken for and you're still talking with someone like me?" She stared at him, her cheeks barely pink.   "Unless I'm wrong." She shook her head. "Then?" "I think I know you a little better than anyone else.  You wouldn't make a move if you knew the signal wasn't the same on the other end." "So you're saying your signal ain't at the end?" "If it was?" "That'd be a pretty mean thing to do to someone or two someones.  And I don't think you're that kind of girl." She watched him.  Then, "Felipe…I'm not just trying to be friends just because I feel sorry for you or because I feel like I have to.  I want to.  But if you don't I won't force you."  She rose and walked slowly back to the apartment.  She didn't hear him call her back so she didn't turn around.  Yet she waited.  She was all the way into the building before she stopped, and felt like she wanted to cry. An hour later, Laika found herself going back to the park.  She wasn't sure what she would do when she got there but she went back.  Not going back would mean she gave up on someone who needed someone.  She exited the elevator and went towards the entrance. At the big bay window was Tungsten, who was watching him quietly.  She looked down at him. "He's been that way for 2 hours." ~~

Felipe started to shiver a little.  The sun had gone down hours ago and things were getting chillier sooner, with fall approaching.  He didn't move from the swing since Laika had left.  He hated what he'd done but couldn't bring himself to call her back to apologize.  As things stood, the times he spent talking to her and Tungsten were the most conversation he'd had in weeks, including whatever argument he and Arpeggio had. And yet, he just wouldn't let himself open up to them.  He wasn't sure why.  He'd never really done that even when traveling back in California.  He made friends easily, and lost them just as easily.  Part of life as a transient.   "I don't like it here," he said softly to himself.  He sighed and looked at his phone.  It was getting towards 10.  Arpeggio, if he wasn't home by now, would be home at some point.  He didn't really feel like letting his partner see him like this. "Here," came a voice.  He looked up at Laika, whom was holding a cup of steaming coffee.   His eyes clouded over in regret but she only smiled as she and Tungsten sat down. "Its gonna be a long wait otherwise." Sharp and Arpeggio came towards the park, well after 11, and found the three of them quietly watching the stars.  There was a gentle line of comfort in Felipe's shoulders that Arpeggio only saw when he was making music.  They weren't talking but that kind of silence, to Arpeggio, seemed just right.