It's My Life[[open]]

[Amari]

Slender fingers rested on the thin keys of ivory and ebony. Intense eyes were glued to the sheet music in front of them, the notes a jumbled mess of sharps and flats. Playing the piano was never something of interest to Amari, but this song she had fallen in love with. It was a daunting melody that reminded her of the past she never got to have. Soft at first, gaining intensity, then slowing and dying away. So much like the parental authority in Amari's younger years. Amari's eyes burned into the paper, readying her hands for each strike of the keys.

The girl sat perfectly straight on the bench, as if a board had been glued to her back. And this was the first song she'd ever played. She never had a tutor or lessons or anything of the sort. So this was a first for her. But she'd seen other children playing, some far younger than her. She'd watched from afar, picking up on each subtle movement, each tap of the pedal, each flick of the wrist as hands flew up and down the key. Now she sat rigid on her seat, nervous, as if hitting the wrong key would ruin her life forever.

Her fingers brushed each key in a warm-up, playing each do-re-mi scale, every major scale, every minor scale. The sound was dull and unimaginative, most like everyone's view of Amari herself. She took a last relaxing breath, lowered her fingers to the staring keys, glued her eyes back to her sheet music, tensed her wrists, and began to play.

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment, and she feared that she was screwing the song up. But as her hand danced across the ebony and ivory, she realized that what she was playing was a near-perfect copy of the actual piece. Her eyes blinked open once more, and she continued playing, the song more pleasant and discouraging with each note played.

[Mello]

It was another day at Wammy’s House, another day of the same old thing. His life currently lacked the adventure that he so desperately craved. The lessons he had provided his mind with challenges, but it wasn't enough to satisfy his interests. He wanted to do something--something dangerous, something useful, something that would prove that he was the one deserving to take over for L once the time came. Yet there Mello sat, in a large wing back chair, slouched down with his left hand supporting his chin, not doing anything particularly enjoyable. With his right hand, he reached down into his pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate, that amazingly hadn't melted. With little effort, he unwrapped the bar and brought it to his teeth, breaking off a large portion of it with a satisfying ‘snap’. It truly was a bad day when even chocolate couldn't bring Mello out of the rut he was stuck in.

As he continued to devour his snack with large snaps every time he broke off another piece, his mind wandered to what he could do to entertain himself. There was always the option of tracking down Near to challenge him, but that was just likely to put him in a worse mood. He could see what Matt was up to for the day; perhaps he had found something interesting to do. The last idea was somewhat promising, but that didn’t move Mello from his seat either. He didn’t like relying on other people to entertain him. Surely he was creative enough to come up with something on his own! Impatient as ever, he slammed his fist down on the arm of the chair, angry with himself for not yet coming up with anything. His blue eyes surveyed the living room, which was surprisingly empty, except for himself of course. Where was everyone? Maybe something was going on and since he'd been brooding, he was missing out! Motivated by that thought, he jumped to his feet and hurried out of the room.

His footsteps, although rushed, fell quietly against the wooden floor. He vaguely longed for his combat boots, so his presence would be more known, but that wasn't really important at the time being. What was important, was finding some sign of life around the quiet place. As if on a cue, he heard a soft melody. Mello skidded to a halt in attempts to pinpoint the location, figuring that someone had to be present if music was playing or being played. The obvious location as to where it was coming from was the Music Room, a place he rarely entered.

Once the blond haired boy got to his destination, he opened the door to the music room and slipped inside. He wasn't one to really care much for music, it wasn't a priority for him. He knew that some people's lives revolved around it, which was something he never understood. Sure, it was nice sometimes, but he deemed it mostly useless. However, he supposed that had something to do with the fact that he was completely dreadful at anything musical, so he was likely prejudice against it due to that fact. Still, even though he didn't really appreciate music very much, the particular tune being played was intriguing to him. It was almost a sad tune, and yet it sounded hopeful at the same time. There was just something about it that caught his attention, causing him to listen further, rather then letting out a scoff to let his feelings about music be known, like he might have done had it been a different song. Mello also didn't do anything to make his presence known either, another rarity.

[Amari]

It was amazing how well the music sounded, seeing as it was her first attempt, the first time she'd even gone near the instrument. But she felt at home, her fingers dashing around the keys. The only fault she found in the melody was when she music required a sharp, and her finger tapped a flat. But other than that, the music resonated around the room, the melancholy tune bringing the smallest drops of moisture to Amari's eyes. But the tears blurred her vision to where she could no longer read the notes on her paper. She quickly wiped her eyes on her shoulder, maintaining a peripheral view of the music.

Finally, her fingers brushed the last keys, drawing the piece to a dismal close. She took a sleeved arm and wiped her eyes more thoroughly. Emotions had never truly bee Amari's strong point. She had emotional insight, yes, and could often tell what others were feeling or if they were hiding something, but her emotions were trapped in a cage. Only solitude, her greatest asset and strongest weakness, brought them out.

She reached her hands forward, stretching them out of their stiff position. Joints popped, grateful not to be stuck in the same position any longer. The fifteen-year-old gathered her music, her regretfully five pages worth of jumbled notes, and stood up, the back of her legs pushing the bench back, resulting in a grating noise. She turned around, staring at her music, on how she could perfect the piece, and headed toward the door. But when she glanced up, she realized something that made her blood run cold. Someone was already there.