First Floor Rec Room, Saturday Morning

[crimson_sister]

During her shift in the library yesterday, Lucille had found some sheet music that she recognized. Taking up her piano practice would be a good thing. During the past year she had not been allowed to play, which meant it would take time for her to return the level she had been at before, and ss she played, she was torn between enjoying the music and cursing her uncooperative fingers which meant is sounded nothing near as good as in the youtube clip, obviously. It was still music, however, which had always offered her a sense of freedom and escape.

[Open!]

Comments

[rhymeswithtable.livejournal.com]

"And then I waited until between songs to give you an honest compliment-- it was good. I liked the way it sounded." Mabel ambled over to the nearest couch and sat herself down on it. "Then you said I could do whatever, even after I offered to do something quiet, and then you yelled at me for doing what I'd come here for."

So, clearly, Mabel was not welcome to do whatever. Hence her annoyance at the whole thing.

"So... can you maybe see how I'm getting the impression here that I'm welcome to be whatever, just so long as that whatever isn't me? There's something wrong with that."

[crimson_sister]

It struck Lucille that perhaps Mabel was being truthful. Perhaps she really was happy and honest and... what else? Trying to be kind? As if the world appreciated kindness. Lucille shrugged. The girl was still annoying.

"Do you really expect to just be you wherever you are? No, wait, I don't think I want to know." Lucille picked up the sheet music and assumed a dignified posture. Smiling unkindly, she continued: "Please, return to your singing. I will come back another time."

[rhymeswithtable.livejournal.com]

Mabel frowned, and shook her head, but didn't try to stop Lucille from leaving, either.

"I've tried to be somebody that isn't me before, because somebody like you went out of her way to make me feel small," she replied. "And all it did was make me feel smaller still. So I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm going to pick up my microphone," she slid off the couch and re-claimed it, "and turn the music back down so I don't blow the speakers. And then I'm going to sing, no matter how badly people think I sound, because that's what makes me happy, and I have just as much right to be here and to be happy as anyone else who lives here. Including you."

[crimson_sister]

Having nothing more to say, Lucille gave Mabel one final look of disdain before she left the room.

At least she hadn't brought the pig.