"I just know. With a voice like that and the way he sings about her..." Katie sounds like she has a bad crush on the mystery guy, which wasn't like her.
"It could be anyone. This guy could be a troll. Or a stalker."
Katie's eyebrow darted up, "You really think that a stalker made a video?"
"No," I admitted and quickly added, "but it would make it easier not knowing who it is if he was some kind of deviant."
"Well, I'm going to find out." She took one more bite of her burger and waived at the waitress to get the check. "I'm going home and surfing the web until someone forks over a name."
Chapter 8
~TRYSTAN~
When Trystan arrived home, the small condo was empty. He sighed a sigh of relief and tossed his books on the kitchen table. Trystan looked around at the dilapidated furnishings and the graying walls. In the back of his mind, he hoped it would burn and burn all the memories with it. This place wasn't a refuge, it was a nightmare.
Trystan pulled the fridge open and stared at empty shelves. "Fuck," he muttered running his hands through his hair. Empty. Again. He slammed the door shut. Shaking his head, Trystan grabbed his books and went back to his bedroom. Once inside he locked the door with a slide bolt.
He'd have to grab groceries, but there was no way Trystan would risk running into his father for food. Besides, his stomach was still in knots from kissing Mari. Eating was a necessity, but he wasn't particularly hungry.
Trystan pulled an old laptop he'd purchased second-hand out from between his mattresses. It booted slowly, its small screen flickering to life like it wished it were dead. When it finally was up and running, Trystan borrowed a neighbor's unsecure internet connection. He had to take down that video. If Mari heard that song... The pit of his stomach dropped just thinking about it.
Trystan navigated his way toward the YouTube page, Day5705. Shock lined his face when the page finally loaded. Before he could click delete, he saw comments - tons of them. They loved his song. He scrolled down, recognizing several kids from his school. Hope and fear flooded his chest. If his classmates saw it, then Mari might have seen it. She'd know. She'd recognize him. Trystan played the video again, frantically trying to see if it was possible to tell who he was.
With his hand keeping the curser hovering above the delete button, Trystan stared at the page. Should he erase it? Make it like it never existed? What would happen to the swarm of people who demanded to know who he was?
The only reason to delete it was Mari, but she was also the reason he wrote the song. Maybe he could ask her about it. Maybe that would be a way to approach the subject of them - a way for her to know he was sincere. Trystan scrolled down through the comments, and made a short post before shutting down the computer. He slid the black plastic under his bed and pulled off his shirt.
The front door slammed shut. Trystan killed the light quickly and jumped into bed with his jeans still on. He could hear his father through the apartment. His voice echoed back to Trystan, "You ungrateful brat! There's only one thing I ask you to do, and you can't even do that!"
Something hard thunked into Trystan's door and shattered. He closed his eyes tight. It was only a matter of time, he reminded himself. The yelling and screaming would stop, his father would pass out, and Trystan could rest safely for a few hours.
Chapter 9
~MARI~
Later that night, I surfed the web, as I listened to his song over and over again. It was addicting. Once I heard it, I wanted more. And not knowing who sang it made me want to know who he was to the point of insanity. The user account was Day5705. It wasn't even a name. The more message boards and tweets I read about him, the more people started referring to him as Day Jones, the anonymous lone musician.
The way he sang was sexy, but it was the words and his voice that captured my attention. I felt like that about Trystan. He saw me as some junior nobody, the girl assigned to read lines with him. This was the second year we worked together and it was always the same. Trystan would talk to me at practice, but that was all I saw of him. The cold hard truth was that he didn't know I was alive. And with friends like Seth shoving college girls down his throat, why would he?
There was a soft side to Trystan, something that only came out when we were alone. The arrogant swagger that he had melted away and he seemed vulnerable. It felt like I was seeing something that he didn't show to anyone else, but I knew that couldn't be. He didn't think of me like that. Trystan was pining over someone else; some girl that Seth didn't think was worth his time. Knowing Seth, he'd try to keep Trystan away from her. I thought about it, but there was no way to figure out who Trystan's crush could be. Before and after practice, Trystan was surrounded by girls. It'd always been like that. All the girls loved him and every guy wanted to be him.
I pulled up Trystan's facebook page and gazed at his picture. Those perfectly pink lips - the way they felt would be seared into my mind forever. It wasn't my first kiss, but no kiss had ever made me feel so much before. I closed the page and pressed play on the song again. I went to bed that night thinking that someone would sniff out the mysterious Day Jones' real identity by morning, but when I woke up they still didn't know.
During the night he posted a comment and it made them love him even more. The guy seemed humble. He made one comment - that's it - and said:
Thank you for listening to this song. I don't really play very well and my voice isn't exceptional. The only reason I posted it was because I thought someone might be going through the same thing. Thanks for listening. - Day
After he posted that, the comments section of the video went nuts. Everyone wanted to know who he was, who she was, and they begged him for more songs. Day didn't post anything else. He didn't seem to want the fame, or the attention. It made me admire him more.
Chapter 10
~TRYSTAN~
He barely had five hours of sleep. Trystan showered and pulled on clothes without worrying about rousing his father. Dear old dad was passed out cold on the living room floor. Trystan grabbed his books and ran out the door. The morning air was cool and damp. He breathed it in like he couldn't get enough of it.
It didn't matter how much his life sucked, there were times - little things really - that he took joy in. They were reliable, dependable like the sunrise.
Trystan walked into the high school and headed directly for the cafeteria. His stomach growled, reminding him that he skipped dinner last night. Today after school, he'd have to run into the deli and grab some things. That meant more odd jobs, less time at school. Trystan bartered with the deli owner, doing odd jobs for him once in a week in exchange for groceries. If he hadn't done that, he was certain he would have been taken away from his father and placed into foster care a long time ago.
Trystan smiled at the cafeteria lady, "Good morning, Miss Bensly. Is that a new pin?"
Miss Bensly was close to seventy years old. Every day she came in with a different broach pinned to her lunch lady uniform. They were usually too large and garishly awful. Trystan beamed at her, holding up an apple and a roll for her to ring up.
Miss Bensly, swatted at him, "Oh you. Save your sweet talk for someone closer to your age, Trystan." She hit the no sale button and waved him through.
"You're an angel, Miss Bensly. What would I do without you?" It was the truth. This matronly figure had fed him breakfast for the past four years.
Miss Bensly shook her head, and waived him off. Trystan crossed the room and sat at a table by the windows. The sun was barely over the horizon. The bell would ring in about five minutes. Trystan watched students pour out of cars and buses. He ate his breakfast while waiting for her. Mari would arrive any minute, scurrying through the door like she was late even though she wasn't.
When he saw her, his heart stopped. The apple he was about to bite was midway to his mouth, but it hung there suspended in motion as he watched Mari run into the building.
"You seriously need to get over her," Seth said, slapping his books down on the table.
Trystan flinched, bit the apple, and threw the core into the nearby garbage pail.
Mr. Tucker chose that exact moment to walk in, "Detention Scott. Throw something else and it'll be a week. Come to my classroom during study hall. You can serve it then." Tucker scribbled on a pink piece of paper instructing the study hall teacher to excuse Trystan since he was serving detention with Tucker.
Trystan smiled, "Thanks. I didn't have one of these yet today," and snatched the pink paper and shoved it into his pocket.
"You're pushing your luck, Scott." Tucker waved a fat finger at him and walked away quickly, like Trystan irritated him and he didn't want to behead the kid before first period.
Seth stared at Trystan until he finally said, "What the hell is wrong with you? It's like you want to get busted. You keep doing all this stupid shit and it's like you know you're going to get caught."
Trystan folded his arms over his chest and slumped back into his plastic chair, "Like what?"
"Hello? Were you somewhere else five minutes ago? Apple core, right when Tucker walked in. That's sloppy man. You used to pull crap, but you didn't get caught. Now, well look at you."
Trystan didn't feel the need to say why he'd grown sloppy. The lack of sleep from trying to avoid his father's fists was slowing him down. "Gee, thanks, Seth."
"I'm serious. You're falling apart, and I know why."
Trystan shot up from his seat, "Don't even go there. The only reason I told you about her was so you could help."
Seth ran up behind him as Trystan exited the cafeteria and walked into the hallway. It was packed with kids carrying books, still wearing coats, racing to get to their lockers. Trystan shouldered his way into the crowd, forcing his way across the hallway. Seth followed close behind, "I am trying to help you, but you won't listen. You never listen!"
Trystan spoke firmly over his shoulder, "She's not the problem."
"Then what is? Clue me in, what's making you so reckless?" Seth stopped in his tracks. Kids swarmed around him like a rock dropped in the middle of a pile of ants.
Trystan leaned his head against his locker. Seth didn't know about his dad. No one did. Taking a deep breath, he turned toward Seth and said, "I'll stop, okay? Just leave her alone." When Seth tilted his head with a try-to-stop-me look on his face, Trystan added, "I know you can't stand her, but that doesn't mean - "
Shaking his head, Seth cut Trystan off, "Not true. I just can't stand what she does to you. When you've been around her, you act like a fucking lunatic. I'd understand if you were thinking with your dick, but you're not. You're chasing some nobody that hates your guts. Face facts, Trystan. There's no future with her in it. You two aren't compatible."
It was the thought that was always drifting at the back of his mind. When Seth said them, it was like someone punched Trystan in the stomach. All the air was forced out of his lungs. It felt like someone was strangling him.
"It doesn't matter. I can't let this go."
"You have to. It's like handing her a loaded gun aimed straight at your heart," Seth said in a low voice. He leaned closer to his friend, "Don't do it. Once those words come out, it's like pulling the trigger. You can't undo it."
