LoveandLogic
Refugee
Soooo yeah, sorry it’s taking me so long to get these chapters up. I’ve had carpal tunnel (or so I think) for the last couple of weeks. I couldn’t even squeeze a shampoo bottle without being in pain. And my wrist still hurts but I cannot hold this in any longer! Lol! So here we go, chapter three!
Disclaimer: Edge is in my closet. A closet of FICTION!
Chapter Three
After a light dinner of fruit and a turkey sandwich, Alexandra hummed lightly to herself while tidying up the kitchen and living room, her thoughts drifting to and fro from her recent painting to the guitarist next door. He had spoken to her, politely, and how does she respond? In the most inhumanly way possible.
“I know who you are.”
Who did she think she was? Queen of England?! Was it necessary to be so rude to him? Sure he probably only wanted to prove a point to the neighborhood, to show them that Alexandra was capable of everyday conversation. Still, this wasn’t a game. Her life, her privacy was not a pawn. She was a woman with real emotions. If Edge’s intent was to get her to talk to him, it worked in a small form. Alexandra, however, would only want him to talk to her if he undeniably wanted to get to know her, not to disprove the rumors.
Around eight o’ clock, the smell of rain danced through the open windows. Rain. Ah yes, Dublin Rain. There was nothing like it, Alexandra smiled to herself. After all, it was one of the main reasons why she moved here. She loved the rain, the sparkling lightning and rolling thunder. Grabbing a book, Alex headed out the door to sit on her front porch and read underneath the lamp underneath the swing.
The weather wasn’t as heavy as it was last night. Surely Mr. Storm was wrapping up his show, this night being the night for an encore. After today, she knew, the sun would shine and the hills would be green again and the skies would be blue, cloudless and empty. Alex was disappointed. It could storm all day and all night and she would be completely satisfied.
Edge, on the other hand, grunted aloud, irritated that it was raining…again! All her wanted to do was play his guitar by the pool under the bright, shining stars. Was that too much to ask? Ever since he bought this house all he could think about that pool and the sky radiating off it’s calm mirror of water.
“Stupid Ireland and it’s even more stupid storms…” He mumbled to himself, grabbing his guitar and settling on the covered patio instead. It just wasn’t the same. Across the deck, the underground pool taunted him, showing off it’s serenity while thunder grumbled in the distance.
Nonetheless, Edge shook off the surface of irritation and sat the edge of his guitar on his lap, tuning and strumming until finding the correct tone. Once found, his fingers glided over the neck smoothly, knowingly. He could have played the guitar in pure darkness and still know what to play. It’s not that he was bragging, he was just good at what he did. No shame in that.
With the music and the storm harmonizing through the open air, Edge’s imagination snapped back to Alexandra, the mysterious ruby haired neighbor that refuses to talk to him. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she was sleeping. It was too early to sleep, he laughed at himself. Still, what else could he see her doing? He knew nothing about her. Edge was stupefied with the lack of knowledge of the girl’s hobbies, besides gardening.
In fact, her lawn was probably the best amongst all the others in the neighbor hood. Her grass was greener, her property eclipsed with flowers of all colors: reds, blues, yellows, pinks and purples. Her front porch had hanging flower pots and ivy snaking up the white posts. How many hours, he wondered, did she spend tending to her garden? He personally would never have the patience for it.
She was so close yet so far away. Edge didn’t want to scare her or poke fun. For whatever reason, he was infatuated with Alexandra. Infatuated with the idea of hearing her talk, to learn more and more about her with every passing hour. This wasn’t like Edge. He was anything but a pushover. It’s the curious side of him just cutting through the surface of his rock star persona. Outside of the tour, outside of the studio and the masses of millions around a stage, Edge was a simple man like any other. For the longest time women frightened him. And now he wasn’t afraid, he was…entranced.
Playing louder, his hands pushing down harder on the strings, Edge sang at the top of his lungs, hoping that in some way, some how, Alexandra would be able to hear him, even through the drizzle of rain and boom of thunder.
Alexandra, deeply into her book, was interrupted by a sound of music swarming through the air waves. How long has the song been playing she did not know. Perking her ears, she listened for a moment and went back to her reading, deciding that to ignore her neighbor would be in her better interest. Then…then the singing began and it was near impossible to drown the melodic tenor of his magnifying voice.
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Trapped in the song, Alex got lost in the lyrics, her eyes teary, her book thudding as it fell onto the floor of the porch. Propping herself up, the rain now at a light sprits, she followed the notes through the dark, the wet grass cool on the soles of her feet until finding herself at the picket fence that divided the property.
Edge stood up, lacing his guitar strap around his shoulders and headed towards the fence, wanting to get as close to his neighbors house as possible without crossing boundary lines. Both unaware of near they both actually were, Edge strummed his guitar, leaning on the fence and, on the other side, directly where he stood, Alex pressed her back to the separation, wrapping her arms around her chest.
Tilting her head back, the man on the other side continued to sing and, with him only inches away, her insides tingled with every word he sang:
I will not forsake
The colors that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They left you with nothing
I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see
The lyric’s spoke to her in such a way that she couldn’t describe. Edge knew nothing of her, nothing of her past or dilemmas. Did he trip inside her head while she was dreaming? Could he understand her without actually understanding anything at all? No. There was no possible way. And still, still the words enveloped her heart, securing an invisible blanket around her very bones. And did he realize that she was centimeters away? So easily could she turn, unlock the gate and stand face to face with him.
The possibility flirted with the idea. Peaking through the cracks of the fence, Alexandra could see the white of his shirt, his right arm moving back and forth over the stretch of the instrument. At a different degree, Edge’s profile viewed itself, his neck stretched, his head leaned back and eyes closed. He had a very sharp jaw line and prominent cheek bones. And his lips…his lips were perfectly thin and in slow motion as he performed:
And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my
I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep
I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Strumming the last few chords, Edge exhaled and stared up at the sky. The raindrops had come to a complete stop now, his thoughts taking their place. Facing the fence, he rested the palms on his hands on the surface. Alexandra, on the other side, pillowed her forehead on the wood, her hands where Edge’s would be. A gust of wind rushed in from the south, picking up Edge’s scent as it passed Alex. She inhaled, the masculine scent intoxicating her every sense.
Edge froze in his tracks, swearing up and down that he heard a sigh from the receiving end. Finding a hole in the wood of the fence, Edge eyed through the circle and, squinting, saw the proof of his sanity staring back at him. Alex’s heart thudded like a hammer knocking down a wall of brick and, quickly, before Edge could even hop to the gate, ran back onto her porch.
Out of sight, she caught her breath, sneaking a glance at a confused Edge at the entrance of the gate. His eyebrows stitched together and his shoulders slumped when realizing that the girl was gone. Did he imagine it all? Was she really there or was his mind playing tricks on him? Either way, Alex wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Turning in for the night, Edge fell into an uneasy yet deep sleep. Alex, however, tossed and turned as usual, her nightmares of blood, busting glass and gun shots disturbing her rather easeful mind. Rubbing her tired eyes, she got out of bed and sat on the sill of the window, watching as the grey clouds pushed their way away the skies, revealing the bright, silver stars. Counting the constellations, her eyes fell heavy yet not heavy enough to allow her rest.
Across the yard, a dim light shone from the Edge’s bedroom. He was fast asleep, she told herself, asleep and at peace. How lucky, she thought enviously. How lucky he must be to have such a luminously life, a life of fans, music, friends and love. He had everything in the world whereas she was left with the hollow facts of pain and loneliness.
Badly did she want to hear him sing! It seemed to be the only thing that took her mind off all the ugliness in the world. When Edge played, the music was so overpoweringly beautiful and serene that it killed off all her bad memories, all her memories of death, crying, pain and suffering. This wasn’t the way to live. Life should not be this cold and ugly.
Searching around for something, anything, hard and round, Alex scurried about her room. Finding a pack of marbles that she used for the bottom of her flower vases, Alex went back to the window, closing one eye, her hand aiming for the other window across the lawn.
Flinging the marble, it hit the glass. A direct bows eye! Waiting nervously for a minute, there was no sign of a waking musician. Trying again, a second marble collided with the glass, a bit harshly than the first. Edge stirred, bolting up in his bed and glancing around his room through half-hooded eyelids.
“What the fuck?” He questioned, hearing another tap on his window. Rolling out of bed, he went to the lattice, pushing up the glass and screen. He couldn’t believe it. Alexandra, dressed in a white gown, was leaning over her sill, smiling lovingly at him, adoring the way his pale skin of his bare chest lit up her room. Silly how he was still wearing that damned black beanie. Good God, did he wear it to bed, too? Wouldn’t surprise her if he showered in it!
Edge smiled back and waved. Holding her index finger up, Alex disappeared from view while Edge waited with anticipation, smirking at his neighbors sudden interest in him. Alex came back seconds later and motioned with her hands for Edge to move out of the way. Stepping to the side of the window, he flinched when something flew into his room, hitting the bed, bouncing onto the floor.
Picking up the object, he smirked. In his hands was a tennis ball covered in paper. Unfolding the letter, he read in delicate, nicely written penmanship:
I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you but I would really like to hear you play something. It might help.
Edge found a pen and wrote hesitantly:
You didn’t disturb me. I’d be glad to help. Do you have any requests?
He tapped the paper around the tennis ball and, after miming to Alex to stay clear, threw the tennis ball, praying that it landed in her room and not on the grass below.
Alex read the note and searched her brain for a song that Edge might know. She didn’t know any U2 songs, not the names anyways. So that was a no-go. She jotted down a question and wrapped it around the ball, throwing it back to Edge’s room.
What do you know?
Edge wrote back: Pretty much anything. Tom Verlaine, Patti Smith, The Beatles. I know every U2 song known to man as well. But I’m sure you already know that.
Alex grinned at the last sentence. Yes, she knew that he could play every U2 song. She loved the Beatles!
Black Bird? She responded.
Edge whispered, “Black Bird. Good choice.”
Before grabbing his guitar, he had written down one last question to her and threw the tennis ball towards her window. He missed and it bounced off the side of the house. Alex laughed, found another tennis ball and chucked it through Edge’s window. He re-wrote the question and, taking his time with aim, watched with relief when it glided into her room this time.
Sing with me?
Was he nuts? She couldn’t sing! Well, she could, but she wasn’t sure if she was any good at it. Shaking her head, she chuckled while writing.
I’m no good. You have the pretty voice.
Edge replied: Nonsense. Please sing. No one likes to sing alone.
Ok, I’ll sing. She gave in to his request. But only because you were nice enough to wake up in the dead of night to amuse a sleepless woman.
Edge’s lips stretched from ear to ear and, sitting comfortably on a chair next to the window, tested his strings, stretching them to the right tuning. With the night being still and deafening, Alex could hear the music perfectly, almost as if Edge were in her room, right next to her.
Waiting for her cue, Alex met Edge’s eyes from across the lawn and, together, they sang.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Edge gifted the girl with an encouraging smile. He knew that she was nervous, even though she had to no room to be. Whether she knew It or not, her voice was beautiful, sweet and clear. And his smile was enough to convince of her some sort of comfort.
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Edge swayed back and forth to the music, feeling young again, like a teenager holding up a boom box to his girlfriends window late at night, shouting love songs over the music. It’s been countless years since he’s had this much this fun with someone, even if it was only playing his acoustic for the girl next door.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
When the song came to an end, Edge picked up the tennis ball, scribbled down a few sentences and Alex caught it this time, eager to see what he wrote.
You sing beautifully, shy girl. Did you take lessons?
No. Just years of singing in the shower.
Edge laughed and, feeling daring, advised. You should come over sometime. I live in this big, empty house and I don’t mind company. If you ever get lonely, don’t be such a stranger.
Alex read the letter a few times, skimming over the invitation, questioning over what to write back. In the end, she said:
Thank you, Edge. Do you mind playing for a few more minutes? I can feel myself getting tired again. I hate to ask but your music is so peaceful.
Edge couldn’t pass down an opportunity to win her trust. Nodding her way, he picked up his guitar and wrote her a Good Night. Sleep well, Alexandra.
She liked seeing her own name in his handwriting. She had never met someone who would stay up until two in the morning playing songs for her from a distance. All in all, they were still strangers, right? Strangers who knew each others names but not backgrounds. Strangers who shared the same land but not the same room. Strangers who exchanged letters from a tennis ball surrounded in paper yet spoke no words.
Goodnight, Edge. Thank you again. Sweet dreams.
As promised, Edge did play his music for Alexandra for as long as he could keep his eyes open. What an odd relationship he was holding with this young girl. They didn’t speak and yet they somehow formed a friendship overnight. He must’ve meant something to her, even if it was a small something. Why else would she ask him to sing to her until sleep took her? Or was he looking too into the situation? Maybe she just loved music? Or maybe she was apologizing for her earlier rudeness?
Even Alex wasn’t the same when she huddled under the covers. A feeling of oddity surged through her body like an indescribable wave of change. Never had she opened up to someone so quickly, especially a man for that matter. Yet there was something different about this one. It could be the way he smiled at her, how his eyes twinkled in the starlight. It could’ve also been the way he sang to her, like she was the only woman visible in the world.
Did it matter? Why couldn’t she just stop questioning everything in her life and go with the flow for once? She was tired of being lonely, tired of being…tired. Edge wanted to be friends with her. What was so hard about that? What was so wrong with that?
Alex did sleep that night for a good five hours until the familiar, reaping dreams punched her unconsciousness. The sun was already at it’s peak and, sure enough, the skies were blue and cloudless, just as she predicted.
Edge awoke much later than usual, feeling groggy but refreshed at the same time, the memory of last night bringing a smile to his lips. Showering and shaving, Edge whistled to himself and opened up the front door to grab his mail. Catching himself on his tip-toes, Edge almost stepped on something laying at his doorstep.
A large, fat boutique of lavenders, pink roses and yellow tulips waited for him, tied at the stems with a purple and white ribbons. Grinning, Edge took the flowers in his hands and inhaled the sweet aroma. Beneath the boutique was a piece of white paper folded once over. Opening it, Edge recognized the handwriting almost immediately. If not for last night, he never would have guessed who the letter came from.
This is my apology for being rude yesterday. And my thank you for what you did for me last night even after the way I treated you. I hope you have a wonderful day, Edge.
-Alexandra
Folding the letter and sticking it in his back pocket, he skipped to his mailbox, grabbed the mail and skipped back to the front door. Cait caught the celebrity just in time, his hand barely touching the doorknob.
“Good afternoon, Dave.” She chirped in her usual motherly voice. “It’s nice to see some blue clouds, isn’t it?”
Edge forced a smile. “Yes, it sure is. And how are you this afternoon, Mrs. Cait?”
“Lovely, dear. Thank you. Oh, what beautiful flowers! Who are they from?”
Edge’s eyes shifted from one way to another, stuttering nervously. “These? Oh, er…no one you know. My, er, cousin.”
Cait didn’t believe him. Not only was he a bad liar but she had also seen Alexandra drop the flowers off around eleven-thirty or so. What was going on, she wondered? Was Alexandra actually taking a fancy to their new neighbor? Couldn’t be possible! She didn’t take a fancy to anyone!
“A cousin you say?” Cait played along. “How nice.”
Edge nodded. “Quite, yes. Well, I have some work to do around the house. I still haven’t gotten everything unpacked yet. I’ll see you around.”
“Of course, dear, go settle in.”
Edge cleared his throat and practically ran into his house. The last thing he wanted was for rumors to get started. Alexandra was, if not anything else, a very private person. And Cait was one pair of the eyes and ears in this community.
Unknowingly to Edge or Alexandra, Cait was already on her way to Fiona’s and Biddy’s, her newfound discovery just begging to be unleashed from the cage of her tongue.
Disclaimer: Edge is in my closet. A closet of FICTION!
Chapter Three
After a light dinner of fruit and a turkey sandwich, Alexandra hummed lightly to herself while tidying up the kitchen and living room, her thoughts drifting to and fro from her recent painting to the guitarist next door. He had spoken to her, politely, and how does she respond? In the most inhumanly way possible.
“I know who you are.”
Who did she think she was? Queen of England?! Was it necessary to be so rude to him? Sure he probably only wanted to prove a point to the neighborhood, to show them that Alexandra was capable of everyday conversation. Still, this wasn’t a game. Her life, her privacy was not a pawn. She was a woman with real emotions. If Edge’s intent was to get her to talk to him, it worked in a small form. Alexandra, however, would only want him to talk to her if he undeniably wanted to get to know her, not to disprove the rumors.
Around eight o’ clock, the smell of rain danced through the open windows. Rain. Ah yes, Dublin Rain. There was nothing like it, Alexandra smiled to herself. After all, it was one of the main reasons why she moved here. She loved the rain, the sparkling lightning and rolling thunder. Grabbing a book, Alex headed out the door to sit on her front porch and read underneath the lamp underneath the swing.
The weather wasn’t as heavy as it was last night. Surely Mr. Storm was wrapping up his show, this night being the night for an encore. After today, she knew, the sun would shine and the hills would be green again and the skies would be blue, cloudless and empty. Alex was disappointed. It could storm all day and all night and she would be completely satisfied.
Edge, on the other hand, grunted aloud, irritated that it was raining…again! All her wanted to do was play his guitar by the pool under the bright, shining stars. Was that too much to ask? Ever since he bought this house all he could think about that pool and the sky radiating off it’s calm mirror of water.
“Stupid Ireland and it’s even more stupid storms…” He mumbled to himself, grabbing his guitar and settling on the covered patio instead. It just wasn’t the same. Across the deck, the underground pool taunted him, showing off it’s serenity while thunder grumbled in the distance.
Nonetheless, Edge shook off the surface of irritation and sat the edge of his guitar on his lap, tuning and strumming until finding the correct tone. Once found, his fingers glided over the neck smoothly, knowingly. He could have played the guitar in pure darkness and still know what to play. It’s not that he was bragging, he was just good at what he did. No shame in that.
With the music and the storm harmonizing through the open air, Edge’s imagination snapped back to Alexandra, the mysterious ruby haired neighbor that refuses to talk to him. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she was sleeping. It was too early to sleep, he laughed at himself. Still, what else could he see her doing? He knew nothing about her. Edge was stupefied with the lack of knowledge of the girl’s hobbies, besides gardening.
In fact, her lawn was probably the best amongst all the others in the neighbor hood. Her grass was greener, her property eclipsed with flowers of all colors: reds, blues, yellows, pinks and purples. Her front porch had hanging flower pots and ivy snaking up the white posts. How many hours, he wondered, did she spend tending to her garden? He personally would never have the patience for it.
She was so close yet so far away. Edge didn’t want to scare her or poke fun. For whatever reason, he was infatuated with Alexandra. Infatuated with the idea of hearing her talk, to learn more and more about her with every passing hour. This wasn’t like Edge. He was anything but a pushover. It’s the curious side of him just cutting through the surface of his rock star persona. Outside of the tour, outside of the studio and the masses of millions around a stage, Edge was a simple man like any other. For the longest time women frightened him. And now he wasn’t afraid, he was…entranced.
Playing louder, his hands pushing down harder on the strings, Edge sang at the top of his lungs, hoping that in some way, some how, Alexandra would be able to hear him, even through the drizzle of rain and boom of thunder.
Alexandra, deeply into her book, was interrupted by a sound of music swarming through the air waves. How long has the song been playing she did not know. Perking her ears, she listened for a moment and went back to her reading, deciding that to ignore her neighbor would be in her better interest. Then…then the singing began and it was near impossible to drown the melodic tenor of his magnifying voice.
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And now you can't get out of it
Don't say that later will be better
Now you're stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Trapped in the song, Alex got lost in the lyrics, her eyes teary, her book thudding as it fell onto the floor of the porch. Propping herself up, the rain now at a light sprits, she followed the notes through the dark, the wet grass cool on the soles of her feet until finding herself at the picket fence that divided the property.
Edge stood up, lacing his guitar strap around his shoulders and headed towards the fence, wanting to get as close to his neighbors house as possible without crossing boundary lines. Both unaware of near they both actually were, Edge strummed his guitar, leaning on the fence and, on the other side, directly where he stood, Alex pressed her back to the separation, wrapping her arms around her chest.
Tilting her head back, the man on the other side continued to sing and, with him only inches away, her insides tingled with every word he sang:
I will not forsake
The colors that you bring
The nights you filled with fireworks
They left you with nothing
I am still enchanted
By the light you brought to me
I listen through your ears
Through your eyes I can see
The lyric’s spoke to her in such a way that she couldn’t describe. Edge knew nothing of her, nothing of her past or dilemmas. Did he trip inside her head while she was dreaming? Could he understand her without actually understanding anything at all? No. There was no possible way. And still, still the words enveloped her heart, securing an invisible blanket around her very bones. And did he realize that she was centimeters away? So easily could she turn, unlock the gate and stand face to face with him.
The possibility flirted with the idea. Peaking through the cracks of the fence, Alexandra could see the white of his shirt, his right arm moving back and forth over the stretch of the instrument. At a different degree, Edge’s profile viewed itself, his neck stretched, his head leaned back and eyes closed. He had a very sharp jaw line and prominent cheek bones. And his lips…his lips were perfectly thin and in slow motion as he performed:
And you are such a fool
To worry like you do
I know it's tough
And you can never get enough
Of what you don't really need now
My, oh my
I was unconscious, half asleep
The water is warm 'til you discover how deep
I wasn't jumping, for me it was a fall
It's a long way down to nothing at all
You've got to get yourself together
You've got stuck in a moment
And you can't get out of it
Strumming the last few chords, Edge exhaled and stared up at the sky. The raindrops had come to a complete stop now, his thoughts taking their place. Facing the fence, he rested the palms on his hands on the surface. Alexandra, on the other side, pillowed her forehead on the wood, her hands where Edge’s would be. A gust of wind rushed in from the south, picking up Edge’s scent as it passed Alex. She inhaled, the masculine scent intoxicating her every sense.
Edge froze in his tracks, swearing up and down that he heard a sigh from the receiving end. Finding a hole in the wood of the fence, Edge eyed through the circle and, squinting, saw the proof of his sanity staring back at him. Alex’s heart thudded like a hammer knocking down a wall of brick and, quickly, before Edge could even hop to the gate, ran back onto her porch.
Out of sight, she caught her breath, sneaking a glance at a confused Edge at the entrance of the gate. His eyebrows stitched together and his shoulders slumped when realizing that the girl was gone. Did he imagine it all? Was she really there or was his mind playing tricks on him? Either way, Alex wasn’t anywhere in sight.
Turning in for the night, Edge fell into an uneasy yet deep sleep. Alex, however, tossed and turned as usual, her nightmares of blood, busting glass and gun shots disturbing her rather easeful mind. Rubbing her tired eyes, she got out of bed and sat on the sill of the window, watching as the grey clouds pushed their way away the skies, revealing the bright, silver stars. Counting the constellations, her eyes fell heavy yet not heavy enough to allow her rest.
Across the yard, a dim light shone from the Edge’s bedroom. He was fast asleep, she told herself, asleep and at peace. How lucky, she thought enviously. How lucky he must be to have such a luminously life, a life of fans, music, friends and love. He had everything in the world whereas she was left with the hollow facts of pain and loneliness.
Badly did she want to hear him sing! It seemed to be the only thing that took her mind off all the ugliness in the world. When Edge played, the music was so overpoweringly beautiful and serene that it killed off all her bad memories, all her memories of death, crying, pain and suffering. This wasn’t the way to live. Life should not be this cold and ugly.
Searching around for something, anything, hard and round, Alex scurried about her room. Finding a pack of marbles that she used for the bottom of her flower vases, Alex went back to the window, closing one eye, her hand aiming for the other window across the lawn.
Flinging the marble, it hit the glass. A direct bows eye! Waiting nervously for a minute, there was no sign of a waking musician. Trying again, a second marble collided with the glass, a bit harshly than the first. Edge stirred, bolting up in his bed and glancing around his room through half-hooded eyelids.
“What the fuck?” He questioned, hearing another tap on his window. Rolling out of bed, he went to the lattice, pushing up the glass and screen. He couldn’t believe it. Alexandra, dressed in a white gown, was leaning over her sill, smiling lovingly at him, adoring the way his pale skin of his bare chest lit up her room. Silly how he was still wearing that damned black beanie. Good God, did he wear it to bed, too? Wouldn’t surprise her if he showered in it!
Edge smiled back and waved. Holding her index finger up, Alex disappeared from view while Edge waited with anticipation, smirking at his neighbors sudden interest in him. Alex came back seconds later and motioned with her hands for Edge to move out of the way. Stepping to the side of the window, he flinched when something flew into his room, hitting the bed, bouncing onto the floor.
Picking up the object, he smirked. In his hands was a tennis ball covered in paper. Unfolding the letter, he read in delicate, nicely written penmanship:
I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to disturb you but I would really like to hear you play something. It might help.
Edge found a pen and wrote hesitantly:
You didn’t disturb me. I’d be glad to help. Do you have any requests?
He tapped the paper around the tennis ball and, after miming to Alex to stay clear, threw the tennis ball, praying that it landed in her room and not on the grass below.
Alex read the note and searched her brain for a song that Edge might know. She didn’t know any U2 songs, not the names anyways. So that was a no-go. She jotted down a question and wrapped it around the ball, throwing it back to Edge’s room.
What do you know?
Edge wrote back: Pretty much anything. Tom Verlaine, Patti Smith, The Beatles. I know every U2 song known to man as well. But I’m sure you already know that.
Alex grinned at the last sentence. Yes, she knew that he could play every U2 song. She loved the Beatles!
Black Bird? She responded.
Edge whispered, “Black Bird. Good choice.”
Before grabbing his guitar, he had written down one last question to her and threw the tennis ball towards her window. He missed and it bounced off the side of the house. Alex laughed, found another tennis ball and chucked it through Edge’s window. He re-wrote the question and, taking his time with aim, watched with relief when it glided into her room this time.
Sing with me?
Was he nuts? She couldn’t sing! Well, she could, but she wasn’t sure if she was any good at it. Shaking her head, she chuckled while writing.
I’m no good. You have the pretty voice.
Edge replied: Nonsense. Please sing. No one likes to sing alone.
Ok, I’ll sing. She gave in to his request. But only because you were nice enough to wake up in the dead of night to amuse a sleepless woman.
Edge’s lips stretched from ear to ear and, sitting comfortably on a chair next to the window, tested his strings, stretching them to the right tuning. With the night being still and deafening, Alex could hear the music perfectly, almost as if Edge were in her room, right next to her.
Waiting for her cue, Alex met Edge’s eyes from across the lawn and, together, they sang.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Edge gifted the girl with an encouraging smile. He knew that she was nervous, even though she had to no room to be. Whether she knew It or not, her voice was beautiful, sweet and clear. And his smile was enough to convince of her some sort of comfort.
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Edge swayed back and forth to the music, feeling young again, like a teenager holding up a boom box to his girlfriends window late at night, shouting love songs over the music. It’s been countless years since he’s had this much this fun with someone, even if it was only playing his acoustic for the girl next door.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise.
When the song came to an end, Edge picked up the tennis ball, scribbled down a few sentences and Alex caught it this time, eager to see what he wrote.
You sing beautifully, shy girl. Did you take lessons?
No. Just years of singing in the shower.
Edge laughed and, feeling daring, advised. You should come over sometime. I live in this big, empty house and I don’t mind company. If you ever get lonely, don’t be such a stranger.
Alex read the letter a few times, skimming over the invitation, questioning over what to write back. In the end, she said:
Thank you, Edge. Do you mind playing for a few more minutes? I can feel myself getting tired again. I hate to ask but your music is so peaceful.
Edge couldn’t pass down an opportunity to win her trust. Nodding her way, he picked up his guitar and wrote her a Good Night. Sleep well, Alexandra.
She liked seeing her own name in his handwriting. She had never met someone who would stay up until two in the morning playing songs for her from a distance. All in all, they were still strangers, right? Strangers who knew each others names but not backgrounds. Strangers who shared the same land but not the same room. Strangers who exchanged letters from a tennis ball surrounded in paper yet spoke no words.
Goodnight, Edge. Thank you again. Sweet dreams.
As promised, Edge did play his music for Alexandra for as long as he could keep his eyes open. What an odd relationship he was holding with this young girl. They didn’t speak and yet they somehow formed a friendship overnight. He must’ve meant something to her, even if it was a small something. Why else would she ask him to sing to her until sleep took her? Or was he looking too into the situation? Maybe she just loved music? Or maybe she was apologizing for her earlier rudeness?
Even Alex wasn’t the same when she huddled under the covers. A feeling of oddity surged through her body like an indescribable wave of change. Never had she opened up to someone so quickly, especially a man for that matter. Yet there was something different about this one. It could be the way he smiled at her, how his eyes twinkled in the starlight. It could’ve also been the way he sang to her, like she was the only woman visible in the world.
Did it matter? Why couldn’t she just stop questioning everything in her life and go with the flow for once? She was tired of being lonely, tired of being…tired. Edge wanted to be friends with her. What was so hard about that? What was so wrong with that?
Alex did sleep that night for a good five hours until the familiar, reaping dreams punched her unconsciousness. The sun was already at it’s peak and, sure enough, the skies were blue and cloudless, just as she predicted.
Edge awoke much later than usual, feeling groggy but refreshed at the same time, the memory of last night bringing a smile to his lips. Showering and shaving, Edge whistled to himself and opened up the front door to grab his mail. Catching himself on his tip-toes, Edge almost stepped on something laying at his doorstep.
A large, fat boutique of lavenders, pink roses and yellow tulips waited for him, tied at the stems with a purple and white ribbons. Grinning, Edge took the flowers in his hands and inhaled the sweet aroma. Beneath the boutique was a piece of white paper folded once over. Opening it, Edge recognized the handwriting almost immediately. If not for last night, he never would have guessed who the letter came from.
This is my apology for being rude yesterday. And my thank you for what you did for me last night even after the way I treated you. I hope you have a wonderful day, Edge.
-Alexandra
Folding the letter and sticking it in his back pocket, he skipped to his mailbox, grabbed the mail and skipped back to the front door. Cait caught the celebrity just in time, his hand barely touching the doorknob.
“Good afternoon, Dave.” She chirped in her usual motherly voice. “It’s nice to see some blue clouds, isn’t it?”
Edge forced a smile. “Yes, it sure is. And how are you this afternoon, Mrs. Cait?”
“Lovely, dear. Thank you. Oh, what beautiful flowers! Who are they from?”
Edge’s eyes shifted from one way to another, stuttering nervously. “These? Oh, er…no one you know. My, er, cousin.”
Cait didn’t believe him. Not only was he a bad liar but she had also seen Alexandra drop the flowers off around eleven-thirty or so. What was going on, she wondered? Was Alexandra actually taking a fancy to their new neighbor? Couldn’t be possible! She didn’t take a fancy to anyone!
“A cousin you say?” Cait played along. “How nice.”
Edge nodded. “Quite, yes. Well, I have some work to do around the house. I still haven’t gotten everything unpacked yet. I’ll see you around.”
“Of course, dear, go settle in.”
Edge cleared his throat and practically ran into his house. The last thing he wanted was for rumors to get started. Alexandra was, if not anything else, a very private person. And Cait was one pair of the eyes and ears in this community.
Unknowingly to Edge or Alexandra, Cait was already on her way to Fiona’s and Biddy’s, her newfound discovery just begging to be unleashed from the cage of her tongue.
gossping elderly ladies hehe 
I porbably would have missed the window every single time if I tried sending a message like that haha
I hope your wrist feels better 
