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A Better Sound : Part I
Back to: Unspoken Change Next: A Better Sound: Part II
A Better Sound: Part I


It was dark by the time Nick had made it to Illyana’s house. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Illyana appeared and stood there with her arms crossed, looking displeased that he was late. He just waved in greeting, not bothered by the fact. He was hardly on time for anything. She rolled her eyes and let him in.

“You are really something, you know that?” she said, but it wasn’t a compliment.


“You know, I just got done practicing and my hands really hurt–” he started to complain while stretching them out in a dramatic display, but she threw her hand on her hip and pointed at him.


“No excuses. You owe me a solid. We’re doing this.”


He gave her a pout but it wouldn’t convince her otherwise.

She had brought her Fender Stratocaster downstairs and had it plugged into an amp in the living room. He unpacked his green Les Paul Gibson and strapped it on, facing her.

She wanted to go at it with him one-on-one. He didn’t bother telling her that she was wasting her favor that he had promised her. He would out-play Illyana any day of their lives. She was too impatient to wait and be beat at the Battle of The Bands.


“Aren’t we going to be too noisy for your mom?” he asked, glancing above them, assuming Mrs. Sanchez was upstairs since he hadn't seen her anywhere in the small area that was the main floor.

“She’s working late again,” Illyana shook her head.

So, they were the only ones there.

Nick began to play some chords in order for Illyana to catch up. She played them well enough. So she wasn’t as newb-ish as he thought.

“So how do you want to do this?”

“You play something and I’ll match it. Then I’ll play something and you match it until one of us can’t.”


He smirked, “You’re going to lose.”

The fire behind her expressive eyes lit up at his challenge, “We’ll see.”

He began to play something from a popular band on the radio. Illyana watched, gaze fixed on his fingers in utmost concentration. After a snippet of his choice, she went off and played it, note for note.

But it sounded…just so awful.

She played the intro to a Metallica song and he copied it easily.

For his next choice, he played something a little more complex and to his surprise, she was able to replicate it. He noticed the way that she held her guitar was against her best interest and his ears couldn’t take much more of her deranged sound.


He set his guitar down and approached her, pointing at her wrists.

“Adjust yourself, you’re wrists are going to get fatigued if you hold your guitar in that position for so long.”

“Really?” she looked at her hands with a sad bewilderment, as if she didn’t know.

“Who taught you to play?”


“I…taught myself,” she lowered her guitar to its stand. Seeming a bit ashamed that she wasn’t as knowledgeable about practical guitar use. He was actually very impressed at her admission. She looked to him, “Who taught you?”

“Orion did,” he answered. It seemed so long ago, on the brink of junior high - he remembered a bunch of high school babes had been fawning over Orion while they saw him playing acoustic guitar in the park. From that moment on, he wanted to play guitar too, because it meant ladies would like him more too. He had started out on Orion's acoustic guitar and eventually switched over to electric after buying his very own when had saved up enough money. His parents refused to buy him something so frivolous. If they had it their way, he would have learned piano, a respectable instrument. Yeah, respectably boring.

He wondered, though, why Illyana's playing sounded so bad even when she was mimicking him? He shooed her away from her equipment and she took a seat on the back of the living room sofa to observe curiously. He crouched beside her amp and looked at the settings. They were jacked up. It looked like in her quest to teach herself guitar, she neglected proper amp settings.



“No wonder you sound like you are torturing cats,” he laughed.

“Hey!” she objected in offense, kicking him in the shoulder.

“Well your amp settings are distorting your sound,” he rubbed his shoulder and fiddled with them, moving the knobs to what he would normally see. She made a deep groan and leaned back dramatically, obviously frustrated with herself.


Then she slumped forward with her head in her hands, “I’m awful. I really am that awful. Why did I think I could beat you?”

That didn’t sound like her at all. Illyana never put herself down. A feeling of sympathy struck him then. He never realized how hard she had tried. He took a seat next to her and put a hand on her back in a small gesture of comfort.

It was so easy to fall back into a friendship with her. When she wasn’t actively hating him, she was so easy-going. Conversations weren’t an uphill battle. He, for the life of him, couldn’t understand how he had managed to lose her for years and not even realize it. He really had cared only about himself. But he was trying to be better.

“Hey, it’s okay. I fixed the settings. Just try it again. It’ll be a better sound now.”

Click Next: A Better Sound: Part II to continue...

 
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