Day 53: Music Room

[rocksthecourt]

Well, if it wasn't his favorite time of the week. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Of course in this case, distance makes Klavier feel like an abused, neglected animal who was only now being allowed a taste of actual food. These people were such savages. It was still absolutely absurd that they were allowed access to this room so rarely. But the tactic was also brilliant on their part, sad to say. Klavier was always at his quietest and most obedient on Music Room days. The perfect model patient. He would give them no excuse to deprive him of this precious time.

Today was going to be a little different, however. Not only was he given access to music today, but a bout of entertainment as well. Apparently that band that had been setting up tryouts for the last week was ready to get the show on the road and start their auditions. Normally, this was the sort of project he wouldn't hesitate to take part in. But aside from the injury to his left hand and shoulder, there were three critical factors keeping him from doing so:

1. The band was named "Sex Bob-Omb." Klavier may have missed the band scene, but he had no intention of attaching his name to some Tom Jones cover band.
2. There weren't many actual instruments in the Music Room; certainly not enough variety to form the type of band they want. The one who made the poster said something about improvising instruments through whatever means necessary. A noble goal, but again, Klavier was not so desperate yet as to reduce himself to playing with a box of tissues strung up with rubber bands. That was too pathetic an image to ever place himself into.
3. The person who had posted placed up a sample music sheet of one of their songs. Klavier had no idea how many people here could actually read music enough to know what it was they were looking at there, but he had been able to decipher it perfectly. Their music... it was kind of god-awful.

In short, this was basically a disaster waiting to happen. The hints were enough to tell him this was likely going to be something akin to nails on a chalkboard... amplified by five. So honestly, he should be as far away from this room as humanly possible.

But he was not going to let these people ruin his rare access time to the Music Room. No, instead he took one of their old CD players and a carefully selected CD of choice (for the sake of his sanity) and took a seat at one of the tables, turning the chair so as to get an optimal view of the show. Why not? No harm in indulging in a little "entertainment," yes?

[free to anyone who wants to watch this train wreck with him :D ]

Comments

[saviored]

Really, now. This place needed to stop pretending with its little recreational activities or whatever. It was so not working out. At all.

Still, curiosity overrode annoyance, thus: here he was. Damon hadn't been able to see who it was his brother had been speaking to earlier which only meant he was interested in finding out. Hungry or not, Stefan didn't usually look so obviously ready to pounce on some random kid. Obvious to him, at least. He more than knew his brother well enough to recognize that look with a glance, recognize the way his fingers curled. Something had been happening in that conversation. Normally, he would've been able to overhear it and none of this would've even been necessary, but what could he do.

Except kill a few people. Of course. When in doubt, that was always an option.

He leaned idly against the far wall, not quite expecting to spot who he was looking for off the bat—back of the head, not that useful—but the truth was, he didn't have anything better to occupy his time with. He'd already talked to Elena and he'd already talked to Stefan; there was only so much those two could do when it came to taking his mind off of things. Especially when those things were sheer, basic instincts.

He needed to wait until tonight, that was all. He hadn't been lying earlier. He was going to eat something, one way or another, and he didn't care what or who. Enough was enough. The only thing stopping him now was his unwillingness to expose himself in a crowded room. It would lead to Stefan, which would lead to Elena, and he didn't want that happening.

He remembered when that hadn't mattered. Hell of a lot easier back then. What had made him decide to start caring again, anyway? Caring was never a good idea. He'd known that. And yet—

Sometimes, even he had a few brief seconds where he would admit that maybe he was an idiot when it came to some things. One thing. Always the same damn thing, each and every time.

[Edward Cullen :3]

[prodigalson]

Edward should have known that when he was spending half the day in a somewhat reasonable mood - that was saying a lot, considering how the shadows had attempted to ruin what would have been a progressive night - that it wouldn't last for more than a few hours. That seemed how the institute worked. Roller coaster emotions.

Not that he could attribute his current mood to the head doctor. Actually, he wasn't quite sure who to attribute it to. It was rather, you know, earth shattering. So what did this mean, ultimately? His life was a lie? No. His mind absolutely refused to consider that idea. It was much more likely something he couldn't understand was involved. He thought of Alice, who knew his life before she had ever even encountered him... perhaps someone like that? Someone seeing his life, then writing about it?

How absurd.

And how perfectly horrible. He did not want anyone to know most details of his life, and here was some stranger in a mental facility that knew more than Venom had learned in two weeks. Everything Venom had learned, he had learned personally.

To be honest, he didn't want to continue investigating this phenomenon. Even still, he knew he couldn't let the matter lie. He believed, like most things, that this is particular could prove a danger to Bella. It was a very real danger, especially if other vampires were in the institute. Though he wasn't sure what Stefan had meant with some of his implications - real vampires, that walking in the sun made him an anomaly - he was still a potential threat even if he was just a sociopath who believed he was a monster.

That threat was why so thoroughly searching for the face Stefan has associated with his brother's name. He had peeked his head into the Sun Room, only to insist he be taken to the music room instead after having changed his mind. The nurse was somewhat hesitant, but eventually relented. If this Damon was awake, there were only two rooms he could be in - ah, and that seemed to be him, leaning against the back wall.

"Excuse me if I'm bothering you," he said as a way of an ice-breaker, "but are you Damon Salvatore? I just have a small question, if that's alright."

[saviored]

When the instruments started coming out, Damon decided that his curiosity over Stefan and his lunchtime partner wasn't worth the loss of his sanity. He was a split second away from heading elsewhere when—

Well, he definitely hadn't thought anyone would be looking for him. Yet there was this kid, beelining straight in his direction. A kid whose pallor of skin suggested he might've spent most of his childhood in his mother's basement. Though the eyes—that was...unusual. To say the least. Extremely unusual.

Maybe he was part-albino.

Whatever intriguing physical oddities were there, Damon stopped caring when it became apparent the boy knew his name. Funny. Who the hell was this? He didn't like it when people he didn't know were somehow familiar with his face and name.

His lips curved, an imitation of pleasantry, but his eyes narrowed. He didn't move from where he stood against the wall. "Who's asking?"

Sure, he'd met his fair share of people over the decades and no, he had not killed them all contrary to his brother's belief, so had they been anywhere else, this whole encounter would've been less surprising, though no less suspicious. Here, however. Here was a different matter. Unless Stefan or Elena had pointed the boy towards him? He couldn't imagine what for. They of all people tended to point people away from him if anything.

Then again, maybe that was exactly it and like all teenage boys, this one decided to do the precise opposite of what he was told.

Oh, never mind. He'd find out soon enough without speculating for eternity.

[prodigalson]

I'll take that as a yes.

Call him psychic, but Edward already had a feeling he was not going to enjoy this conversation. He hadn't even done anything particularly noteworthy and he was already getting suspicious glances. Combined with how Stefan's mind had regarded his brother's memory... he would have to weigh his words before speaking.

"My name is Edward," he answered, seeing no point in hiding that little fact. He wondered what the point was in asking since, for anyone else, there probably would be no relevance located in a name. For obvious reasons, he had neglected to mention his surname just yet. "Your brother pointed you out to me last shift." Luckily the majority of the institute's patient body had been in the cafeteria, so the chance of Damon not being there to be pointed out was nil. He hoped that was enough of a reason to not have to describe how, exactly, he knew what the other looked like. Dark-haired and handsome wasn't exactly a defining feature.

If not, well. He could just lie. It wasn't an important matter to him. What was, however -

He put on his best face, the one that was earnest and not really worth much notice and smiled sheepishly. Nice and pleasant, with some curiosity. If Stefan had not immediately recognized him for what he was (actually, he still very much assumed Stefan thought he was insane), chances are this one would not either. However, the particular topic he was interested in... well, there really was no way to make it seem not curious. It was a trivial thing in the greater scheme, but Edward's options were limited. "It's nothing dire, really. He just happened to mention this - this book. I believe it was called Twilight. It sounded funny to me, so I was interested in knowing what it was about."

[saviored]

...What.

A rare flash of genuine confusion flickered over his features before something half-amused replaced it. He arched an eyebrow, making no effort to hide that he thought this was the most ridiculous question he'd received all day. "Seriously? That's what you wanted to ask me?"

Of all the topics he'd been expecting, this was not one of them. And Stefan had sent this boy here? Either his brother had gained a sense of humor (albeit a terrible one, clearly) or something else was going on here. Considering the likelihood of Stefan gaining any kind of humor was basically nil, he was going to have to go with the second option. Which was...?

Well, no idea yet. He didn't doubt that this Edward must've met Stefan or there was no way he would've known they were brothers, and now that the connection between this boy and "last shift" was made, he realized that the mess of bronze hair was familiar. So this was who had set his little brother on edge earlier. Interesting.

Now he was definitely intrigued enough to indulge this conversation. He wondered if Edward was aware of the sheer coincidence of his name and the question combined. Not to mention his appearance, but there was a part of Damon's brain that was skipping over that because to take it into consideration raised an implication too crazy even for him to contemplate. No, at the moment he was mostly focused on debating whether this current subject matter was going to get annoying real fast or become highly entertaining.

He watched Edward for another second or two. "Girl meets vampire, vampire—stalks girl. Eternal love springs. I think there was something about werewolves in there somewhere...and. Glitter." He frowned in thought, then gave a dismissive shrug. "I didn't really pay attention. But you know love stories; they all end up the same."

Predictable and boring unless you were living it, in which case love remained wholly overrated and wholly inescapable.

[prodigalson]

It was so nice to his ability to lie convincingly had continued to steadily go downhill. Regardless, if he received the answers he sought, it was really on a minor convenience that he came across as suspicious. Since he had already outed himself twice in just as many days - and had the truth demanded out of him by a third - trying to keep up his facade of being a perfectly normal teenage boy was getting progressively tiresome. Ten days, no Volturi. No sign of them. Not even the face of one pasted on to the institute's "visitors", moving in to investigate how a vampire had become trapped in an asylum. Edward was ready to thoroughly believe they did not know about this place.

In any case, he stayed silent until Damon gave in to his curiousity. It couldn't be a coincidence that both of them were aware of the same phenomenon, could it? He could have entertained the idea of something personally planted by Landel to further disrupt his sanity, but he wasn't nearly narcissistic to consider anyone, even a sociopath, would put that much effort into terrorizing one single patient.

"Glitter," he said, raising his eyebrows. Well, great. How wonderful that that little quirk had been expounded upon. "I see. Well, thank you anyway. That basically echoes what Stefan said about it." Before he left, perhaps he could get one last clue... "I never really understood the whole fanatic craze related to vampires."

[saviored]

The thing Damon didn't get was why, of all the topics in the world to use as an excuse to approach him, Edward had chosen a book made for desperate housewives and girls who drew little hearts on their notebooks. It was possible Edward just wasn't your typical teenage boy or maybe he was bored and felt like bugging people about Twilight, but Damon was not prone to giving people the benefit of the doubt.

Certainly not if Edward had found him through Stefan. His brother may have mentioned his name in passing, but it took some very specific circumstances for Stefan to resort to throwing someone his way, even when he knew Damon was somewhat less likely to make them his dinner these days. Because, you know, he was just so mean and terrible and humans had such delicate feelings. Or whatever.

And—were they really going to move onto reflecting on one of the countless social fads that came and went over the decades? Apparently.

He smiled, more indifferent than friendly. "Sex appeal, I'm sure."

Seriously, though, what was up with this kid? Did Edward know something? Did he know what he was? Was that why he was pussyfooting around about vampires and bad romance novels? Edward wouldn't be the first given that girl a few mornings ago, but if so, he was being incredibly unsubtle about it. Not to mention incredibly stupid, too, if he thought it was a good idea to confront a vampire this way. Stefan had probably given him a false impression. His brother might've been the poster boy for martyrs, but less so for vampires.

His gaze raked over Edward for the second time, sizing him up without pretending otherwise. Those eyes were really bothering him. It was just too unusual to ignore. At least the self-proclaimed not-human girl had blended and her existence made sense, if he chose to think of her as just having stronger witchy instincts than average.

But then there were the mysterious Lockwoods and now...this boy. Who may or may not recognize what Damon was, which meant he must've recognized Stefan, too, and who may or may not be fully human. Maybe that girl hadn't been lying, after all. The combination of these two possibilities left Damon less than happy. Normally, he wouldn't have even looked once at a kid like Edward, never mind twice, but here they were.

Edward's mistake for making himself a point of interest, he supposed.

"Oh, while you're here—" He tipped his head. "—So, I couldn't help but notice you're wearing some pretty cool contacts. You wouldn't mind taking them out to show me, would you? I mean, I'm just...curious."

Obvious? Probably, but he might as well play on the same level Edward was.

[prodigalson]

It was damning enough information, in Edward's estimation. Both of them were more astute than he would have initially given them, which was most definitely a mistake on his part. As stupid as Damon thought his sniffing around was, he felt reasonably more informed than if he had neglected to do so. Safer, though... not really. It wasn't himself he was worried for. He had to admit to himself, as long as another vampire didn't so much as look twice at Bella, he really had no interest in what they did otherwise. He couldn't systematically change his kind, he could only keep safe what was his.

Besides, he wouldn't be surprised if the brothers conferred with each other later on and the matter of his telepathy was brought to light. Having let it slip to one, however, he was remaining mum for the moment. There would be no chance for trying to hide anything under another layer of thoughts. Not many could do it, but vampire minds were different than humans. Such a feat was simpler.

Edward stared down at Damon, giving him a pointed look before the edges of his lips turned into a wry smile. There was nothing sheepish about him now. "I'm afraid not. I always have trouble putting them back in, you know?"

[saviored]

Here they were. Finally. Not quite an admission, but close enough.

Damon hadn't exactly been keeping up much by the way of pretenses from the start, but what little had been there disappeared entirely. He'd had one foot propped against the wall, and he dropped it now, though he stopped short of taking a step forward.

He stared back, lips curving just the slightest. "What are you?"

This would've been easier if Edward was clearly just another vampire; he knew how to handle them which made them not as much of a threat, and frankly, they could threaten and eat as many people as they wanted as long as they didn't come near Elena. Or his brother. A mysterious supernatural element, however, was another story.

"And while we're at it, what's your real name, anyway? I mean, since you obviously know who I am."

Edward should've just gone for the gold and introduced himself as Lestat if he was going to play with this whole vampire/Twilight thing. Not that Damon particularly cared about his real name, and when it came down to it he could just ask what Stefan had managed to find out about this boy tomorrow and get any possible details that way—but it was the principle of the matter. And he had no intention of letting Edward walk away until he knew precisely what the hell was going on here.

Though come to think of it, wasn't there a Bella around here somewhere? Maybe the two should hook up and complete the package.

[prodigalson]

Even as a vampire, he didn't taunt predators - not like Emmett or Jasper would when hunting. Edward didn't toe the line, even when nearly invincible. He was much less than that now, and it applied now more than ever. He could have asked Don't you know already? but Damon kept changing his mind. Apparently he didn't read as clearly vampire, as Stefan hadn't to him either. Normally, there were outward signs. He hadn't needed to rely on his telepathy so much; instead of an asset, it had just been an annoyance for the most part. He should have been able to just smell them or hear the lack of a heart beat.

Now he reasoned he needed to work with what he had.

"My name really is Edward," he said before pausing for a brief sigh; there wasn't any playfulness in his tone, even of the fake variety. He knew he wasn't going to like the results of this, but he didn't have a choice, knowing that this one would just seek the answers from Stefan. The small amount of warmth he might have had from the blood in his system leeched out with the mere thought of Bella, but he wasn't going to bring her up. Ever. "Edward Cullen. I'm exactly what you and your brother are." Well. "With some obvious differences." Like how I'm apparently fictional.

At least with Damon, he was prepared for the onslaught of a complete stranger knowing details of his life while thinking he was insane. It wouldn't come as a surprise this time.

[saviored]

A beat as Damon stared. Three, two, one—

He let out a short derisive laugh, amusement masking disbelief. Was this for real? Edward had to be completely delusional to go around making such blatantly idiotic claims (not to mention, who the hell actually wanted to be Edward Cullen?) but the thing was, he'd run into a lot of different varieties of people in his life and the delusional ones were the easiest to spot from a distance. As much as he'd like to slap that label on Edward...

Then there were the eyes, the paleness, the way Edward had seemed disturbed by the entire concept of Twilight, Stefan's involvement, the fact that there was a girl named Bella of roughly the same age going starry-eyed over her special someone—yeah. It left few options to go by. Crazy elaborate prank? Not likely. Coincidence? Even less likely. The truth?

...

...Well, there was that saying about truth and fiction.

So—whatever. Fine. Say he was gonna go along with this for, you know, the hell of it. Why not. Wavering in one place between one or the other wasn't gonna get him any progress. What did that leave him with? A vampire that'd gone vegan like Stefan, he guessed. And apparently brooded like Stefan, too.

My God, there were two of them.

Damon shifted his weight, weighing the questions running through his mind. "Pretend I believe you," he said. "Why did you come to me with this?"

To size another vampire up? Confirm his suspicions that he and Stefan were vampires? And when did Edward first hear about Twilight, anyway, 'cause if this whole thing were true, man, that would've been one awkward conver—oh. Oh. It'd been Stefan, hadn't it? Oh, okay that was—that was funny, actually. And it made sense, insofar as all of this could make any damn sense. Edward had come directly to Damon after talking to Stefan, after all, and he hadn't wasted any time boarding that vampire romance topic of discussion.

[prodigalson]

He tried to not be indignant about some of the other's inner commentary, but it was hard to remain completely impassive internally. Externally, he was simply watching Damon's amusement without much of his own.

At least this was something new - not that Landel had made him suffer an absence of new experiences. Being thought of as fictional - well, how would he top that? That thought brought something else to mind: a man he'd met here once, his face half wrapped in bandages as Edward's had been that day. After the mis... the explosion. After the fire and the burns. After he had only been here a day.

He'd said his name was Harvey Dent. It might not have meant something to others, but Edward had lived during the rise of the comic book during World War II. The Golden Age. Perhaps the name could have just been the result of devout fans as parents, but a half-bandaged face and a violent reaction - both internal and external - at the mention of a particular hero?

Oh my god. Why hadn't he thought of that until now?

"I don't particularly care if you believe me or not," he said honestly, doing a wonderful job of looking much more nonchalant than he felt. "I only picked you out because your brother mentioned that you might know more about this book than you do." Or thought it, but it was really the same thing to him right now. Luckily, neither seemed to know about that particular quirk, at least initially. Edward was sure the news would spread quickly enough. "Though I suppose it was marginally the product of my own curiosity. It feels like a very long time since I've seen another vampire. I can't say I've ever encountered one of you and your brother's sort."

Which was more about the fact that they looked remarkably more alive than he did. And there was no smell - what werewolves would probably label as decay, as did he. Every vampire had the same similar sort of scent. It was impossible to exist without it, or so he'd thought.