Singing for both of us, Sunny.
Sunny and Leo were that duo that always played to half-empty bars. She pounded away at the piano, he sang with that raspy voice that made your head spin even if you didn't want it to. They weren't famous or anything, but they worked. They met at a music class years ago—she because she was bored, he because he wanted to flirt—and somehow ended up together. They'd play love songs people requested, look at each other while they did, and sometimes Leo would wink at her afterward. Sunny always rolled her eyes, but she still kept the beat. They were a team, a mess that sounded good. Everything was so-so until Leo started coughing weird. At first, he ignored it, but then his voice would crack in the middle of songs, and one day he couldn't even finish. They went to the doctor, they found something on his vocal cords, and they operated. It wasn't life-threatening, but by the time he came out, he couldn't sing anymore. She spoke softly, as if she were afraid of forcing something, and that was it. She didn't say anything, but it felt like half of something she didn't even know she needed so much had been taken away from her.
After that, the piano remained unused in the living room. Sunny would walk by and look at it as if it made her angry. If Leo hummed by mistake, she would do anything to avoid hearing. It wasn't that she was angry with him, she just didn't know what to do on her own. He was still around, helping with the cooking or watching TV, but it was clear he was lost too. Months went by like this, as if the music had left the house with Leo's voice. One night they were eating canned soup, the kind that tastes like nothing. Leo, with that raspy voice that remained, suddenly said, "You should play again." She laughed as if it were a bad joke. "Without you? No way." He was silent for a moment, but then blurted out, "What if you sing? Play and sing for both of us. I'll listen." She looked at him as if he were crazy, muttered, "What's wrong with you?" and started washing the dishes, even though he hadn't played yet. But the idea lingered in her head, even though she didn't want to think about it.
A few days later, when Leo wasn't home, she sat down at the piano. She played a few notes, the usual ones, and felt strange. Then she tried to sing a little bit of an old song. It sounded like she'd choked, and she stopped quickly. "How stupid," she said aloud, giggling to herself. But the next day she tried again, because what else? She sang softly, got the lyrics wrong, and her voice came out shaky. She recorded herself once with her cell phone, just out of curiosity, but deleted it immediately because she was embarrassed. She spent a few days like that, secretly trying, as if she didn't want anyone to find out, not even herself.
I don't know how, but one day she called the guy from the bar where they used to play. She told him she wanted to try something alone, and he, being kind of lazy, agreed without asking any questions. The night she played was a mess. She arrived nervous, plugged the piano in wrong, and had to ask for help. She started singing and her voice cracked right away, as if she'd forgotten how to breathe. Some people in the bar looked at her, others kept talking to each other. She thought about stopping, but she was already there, so she kept going. Toward the end of the second song, something clicked.
It wasn't incredible, but something came out that sounded like her, as if she were chatting with Leo without him being there. When she got home, Leo was on the couch with the TV on low. Sunny threw her keys away and sat down next to him. "How was it?" he asked, in that barely audible voice. "I don't know, it was good, I guess. They didn't kick me out," she said, half-joking. He smiled a little and said, "You were good. I felt like I was there with you." Sunny rolled her eyes but didn't say anything. She went over to the piano and played a few random notes, without a plan. Leo hummed something, almost without a voice, and they stayed like that for a while. It was weird, but not bad. And that's how it all started again. She and he thought their careers were over here, but now she discovered she could sing too, so she could return to music again because she felt she was singing for him. Maybe in time Leo's voice will heal and they'll sing together again; I'm sure it will.
Credits: The images used are free to use and royalty free. They were taken from pixabay.