Life is unfair.
It favours some people and laughs in the face of others. But I guess life never promised to be fair, just kind of offhandedly mentioned that it was a possibility. Still, if life decides to laugh in your face while giving out natural...
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I was kind of thinking that we'd keep meeting in the aux gym, because that's where I usually play trumpet and I guess where pretty much all of our interactions thus far have taken place, but the day after we make our deal, he shows up to the aux gym a half an hour after dismissal (when he didn't show immediately, I started practicing, which I guess was a good choice). When I start to switch to my trumpet, he stops me. "The teachers will probably kick us out soon. You want to come to my place?"
I didn't quite think we were at that level of familiarity yet, but I guess I was wrong. I nod anyways and pack up my stuff, following him to the parking lot behind the school where he parks his car.
It's hard not to immediately resent him again just setting eyes upon that car. It's definitely worth more than I am, and I don't even know that much about cars. Either way, I get in and fix a neutral almost glare on my face as he drives to the ultra rich part of the city where he apparently lives.
I don't spare his house a glance when he parks, refusing to give him the satisfaction even though I'm almost a hundred percent sure that he doesn't care anywhere near that much. He leads me inside, through the excessively rich interior until we get to a room somewhere in the back of the house. It has a piano and a few couches, and a bunch of books. I frown.
"You don't have a whole extra music room?"
"Nope. This is the only room in the house with an instrument."
"That's dull," I say as I slide onto the piano bench, admiring the workmanship. When I look back at him, he's watching me and smiling.
"You can play it, if you like."
I almost greedily open it to reveal the keys, flexing my fingers before pressing middle C, just to check if it's in tune. Fortunately, it is. "Does anyone in your family play?"
"My mom."
"Ah." I play a quick scale to warm up, then launch right into the first song that comes into my mind. Part of me definitely feels mean for doing this, because I know the piece I'm playing is impressive, and Axel has literally told me that he loves music but can't play it very well, and wishes he could.
When I glance up at him, though, he looks more like like he's enjoying it than being hurt by jealousy, which really only proves what I already knew- that he's a better human being than me.
I stop playing abruptly and give him a suspicious look. "Okay, I have a question. Why do you need me to help you be better at playing the trumpet? You're rich, hire a professional."
He looks a little uncomfortable. "I mean, my parents aren't huge fans of me liking music. They did let me hire a teacher once, hoping that I'd get it out of my system, but the teacher sucked- or maybe I'm just that bad- and my parents gave up and refused to fund my desire to play music any more. I'm lucky they still let me do band."
