It was raining that night. For some reason I thought it would never stop. Like the world would simple stop moving forward. My Dad was gone. Not in the "I'm just not coming home" sense, but in the "never can, never will" sense of the phrase. At first I thought maybe it was some big elaborate prank. Like he would come strolling in one day smiling, throw me over his shoulder and say "Got ya!" That day didn't come before the funeral though; the day I lost hope.

I hated the fact that it was sunny out. It seemed like the bright sky was mocking my pain. Part of me wanted to throw sticks in the sky and scream, the other part was afraid that if I started I would never stop. So I stood next to my Mom in my new black suit and tie, staring at the sad faces of people I barely knew as they told us how sorry they were, and how amazingly brave my dad was.

They called him a hero. An example for everyone to live by. They said they wished they had been there, but I knew they really didn't wish for that. They hoped they would have done the same thing in his place, but most of them wouldn't. There had been a robbery at the store when he stopped on his way home. The idiot kid was waving a gun around that he barely knew which end to shoot from. My dad saw the cashier take out a bat to hit the robber with and he dove to pull a kid and his mother out of the way. 

The gun went off. The bullet hit my dad instead of the 10-year-old boy he was standing in front of at the time. It would have blown the kids head off, instead it lodged in my dad's chest. The robber was knocked out and arrested. Pretty shut case with the camera footage, he would go away for a long time. Didn't make me feel better though. I blamed more than just him. I blamed the cashier, the woman, the boy and even my mom for asking him to stop on the way home.

The kid showed up to the funeral with his mother. She kept saying she was sorry, and thank you for rescuing her boy. I didn't want to hear it. I just stared at the little blond kid with green eyes and freckles across his nose wondering what he was thinking as he stared off into space. At the grave site they did a few little speeches, then the little boy came forward with a case. He opened it carefully and pulled out a wooden violin. After a minute of adjusting, he put the bow to the strings. Only seconds went by and the entire space felt transported.

(play video up top for the song that inspired this)

It sang, the violin sang. I had never seen something like it before. The way his eyes closed and his body swayed to the music. His fingers gracefully pulling each note from the instrument and thrusting them through my chest until my heart was bleeding. I don't even remember when I started crying. Nor when I walked forward to just stand there, staring in front of him as he played for us. The song was gentle, hopeful, and wonderfully sad all at the same time.

As the final notes played and silence settled over the group. He stood there, bow still hovering, hand slightly shaking and breath coming in short puffs. Suddenly the sun wasn't so cruel. It was like I had been waiting for a reason and it was standing right in front of me. I reached out and clasped the child to my chest. He gasped and his eyes flew open as I crushed him to me. I ran my hands in his soft hair and whispered in his ear.

"You're welcome. Just never stop playing."

*

"Are you coming on Saturday?" The soft voice asked me over the phone. I gulped down the last of my tea before answering.

"Of course. You know I wouldn't miss it. Did you get your new tie?" I heard a soft giggle from the other end of the line and smiled gently.

"Yes. You didn't have to get that. I like it though. You know I will wear it." I heard the door open and murmurs on the other end and sighed.

"Good. Now get back to practicing or your coach will shoot me. My break is almost over anyways." I said and we said goodbye before hanging up. I sighed as I threw the last bite of sandwich into my mouth and grabbed my dishes to set next to the sink.

"Let's go Jesse, back at it buddy." My boss stuck his head in the room and I chewed my food but nodded and waved so he knew I was listening. I grabbed my tool belt and walked out of the small trailer onto the jobsite wiping the crumbs off my lap and grinning at the sun shining. It was a nice day, not too hot outside for work and I was looking forward to the weekend.

"Hey Jesse, why don't you help George with those boards for the second story." I heard the foreman shouting at someone across the way and was relieved to be heading in the opposite direction.

"Hey George, what do you have for me?" I asked politely. He pointed at the stack next to him.

"I need 24 of these taken over to the north side. Hector is putting together the walls on the second story over there. Just pass them up to him so he can keep going on it." He ruffled my hair and I got to work. I didn't mind too much. He was an older guy and had known my dad pretty well so thought he could be all familiar with me. It was a decent paycheck and I liked the work alright, just got a little sick of hearing the phrase "chip off the ole block" from the older guys on the site.

It wasn't easy since my dad passed, but my mom and I had managed alright since then. The insurance had come through for her and she had been careful with it over the years. That meant I had food on the table, a car when I learned to drive and got a job to pay for my own insurance, and decent clothes on my back. I wasn't really popular in school, but I wasn't bullied either. Mom worked all day, but still spent a few hours with me each night for dinner and homework.

The only thing that really changed was having him in my life. The boy my father saved. The violinist. His name was Casper and we had never stopped talking since the day of my father's funeral. We phoned, texted, emailed and skyped as the years went on. He got a scholarship to a prestigious school of music and had continued playing the violin to this day. He was so good there were already offers for him to join various orchestras.

He said he hadn't decided what he wanted to do yet and simply played for the local orchestra as he finished out his schooling. His mother thought he was stalling. She kept begging me to talk to him, but I refused to pressure him. I went to every concert and supported him as his friend. I listened to him practise just before every big performance and cherished every note that came from his violin. I loved his music, and being a part of it soothed me somehow.

I heard the whispers though. The people around him, the other musicians and the music community that is; they wondered what he saw in me. I was "that manual labourer" that hung around him. I was a stain, an annoyance, a pest that was in the way of his career. They said I was a distraction. They said I didn't belong next to him. Maybe they were right, but I wasn't going to leave until he told me to himself.

That's how I found myself putting on my good black suit every so often to go and watch him play. I enjoyed the music even if I couldn't play a single note to save my soul. That's what I was about to do now, in fact. I straightened my tie and brushed my hand carefully over my hair so it sat nicely. I grabbed my keys and drove over to the opera house, giving them over to Mike at the door who was always nice to me since I was a friend of the prodigy.

I felt the criticising eyes and ignored the hushed conversations that didn't include me. The gilding gleamed and the lights sparkled, making me smile. I took out my hand delivered ticket and passed it to the boy in the booth. He nodded to me familiarly and another boy with a flashlight took me up the stairs to my box seat. It was the same one I had been sitting in for three years. The same place he would seat me for every performance I attended.

The musicians were all getting ready, moving their stands just so and playing with their instruments. Casper saw me sit down and waved to me dramatically, pulling more than a few eyes to look up and see me sitting there. I blushed and waved back at him, a little less enthusiastically but just as sincerely. He pointed to the pastel blue tie he was wearing and gave me a thumbs up. When another musician grabbed his attention away he seems to deflate a little before turning back to his papers.

Everyone got in their places as the lights flickered their warning. Then the whole place went black. The stage light grew slowly and the conductor began. It was a Tchaikovsky medley for the first part, then they had a break. The second part was a Chopin medley, I was riveted by the trio piece with Casper on violin. He didn't miss a single note; completely flawless. It took all my being not to clap after every song he played.

Last up was a Beethoven medley. The music was beautiful as it flowed from the stage. The last piece though, it had me at the edge of my seat. The moonlight sonata, featuring a duet by their master pianist and Casper. He stood up at the front next to the conductor. His face scrunched in concentration as he worked his bow. Not a page of music sat in front of him. His eyes were closed and I closed my eyes and leaned forward to put my hand on the bannister.

His timing was impeccable. His hand was steady. His pitch was perfect. He was beautiful. I felt my heart expanding in my chest as each note drew out of the wooden instrument. He was playing for me. I felt it in my soul every time I came to listen. We both needed this. We needed each other. To be the meaning in each others lives. To give us a reason for existing. We were not different. We were the same. Two halves of a complete plan.

I opened my eyes and saw him looking up at my balcony. I nodded to him and smiled, knowing he couldn't see me in the dark of the house and not caring. He was lit up. At the end of the song there was a moment of profound silence and then applause. The entire orchestra rose to take a bow, then the soloists, then the conductor and it was over. The house lights rose and I made my way quietly to the side door. They let me through.

"Fantastic job as usual Casper." One man said. He clapped him on the back and smiled ear to ear. I stood in the shadows watching.

"Incredible. Simply incredible, boy." Another man with a mustache commented.

"What on earth are you still doing here with us Casper? Please don't tell me you are staying for family. Or heaven forbid some friends? You are a treasure! You should be out there making beautiful music." I can't lie; the words stung me. Was it my fault he wasn't playing in some grand orchestra? I could barely look at his bright blond hair and beautiful green eyes as they searched the shadows for me.

"Jesse! You came!" He called out. His soft voice broke through the group gathered about and he pushed through them to meet me in the shadows.

"Of course I came. I promised you, didn't I?" I growled at him as he flung himself against me for a hug. His wiry body squeezed me tightly and I ruffled his hair since he was done performing. I felt him giggle against me and he pulled away just to grab my hand and take me into the private room they had set for him.

"So how was I?" He asked as we sat on the couch and he took a sip of water. I sighed.

"Amazing as usual. Hasn't your coach already told you?" I replied as he handed me a glass to sip from.

"Yes but I trust your opinion more. I'm not paying you. Do you think my timing was okay? I wasn't sure there at the end." He looked faraway for a moment.

"Casper, am I distracting you?" It slipped out before I even realised I had said the words. Casper looked at me rather shocked.

"No. Whatever gave you that idea? Is it what that lady said? Just ignore them Jesse. They don't know what's going on." He scoffed in that raspy, gentle voice of his. I shook my head.

"It's not just her. Your mother is worried. She came around asking me to talk to you. Plus, I'm not deaf. I hear things. People are saying they don't know why you stick around here. It's getting to the point where I don't know why you are either. You are so good. You could play anywhere in the world. Why here?" It was like word vomit. Once it came out of me I was horrified and relieved at the same time. Casper sat looking at me shocked for a second before blurting out the first thing that came to mind, the truth.

"Because you're here. Okay? What's the point if you can't hear me? Do you think I did this all for myself? It is not beautiful music if nobody listens to it that matters to me. I wanted to show you that I was worth saving. I wanted to show you how I feel." My jaw dropped and he gasped. His hands flew up to cover his face. I flung my arms around him and held him tightly to my chest. It was nothing like that day.

Today my chest was strong and wide, my arms solid from hard work, and my mind that of a young man. I felt the strong lines of his body as it pressed against mine. I felt the soft curls of hair as they ran through my rough fingers. I felt the shudders as they wracked his body and I pulled his hands from his tear stained cheeks. I kissed the salty trails and murmured soothingly.

"I know. I felt it. Truly I did. You have always been worth saving Cas. You are everything. You are my missing piece. I love you Cas. I love you too." My lips connected with his. They were so soft and yielding under mine. He tasted like butterscotch and felt like silk. He kissed me back so fiercely that he pulled a chuckle from my chest. He smacked me half-heartedly.

"Don't laugh at me." He hissed as I pulled away. I put my forehead against his and nodded.

"I'm not laughing at you. I am just so happy." He was stroking my shoulder and staring up into my eyes like I was whole universe. Maybe I was at that moment, and he was mine. I heard the crash of thunder outside and smiled for the first time in ten years at the sound. It would remind me of the day we confessed our love for each other now. I closed my eyes and hoped the rain would never end.