"...I'm in rags, I'm penniless. God, I can't go home like this. Like this, like this, like this, like this."
"God, I can't go home like this."
Serenity, tranquility, and a gentle sadness flow through the melody, melancholy yet not bitter. Like a letter from across the sea battered by trials of fate, it quietly hides fragility and helplessness, arming itself instead with resilience and courage. Pulling up the collar of a coat, it trudges forward alone in the icy chill of winter.
"If you miss the train I'm on, you'll know that I'm gone. You can hear the whistle blow a hundred miles, a hundred miles, a hundred miles..."
Before realizing it, a soft hum escapes from the depths of the throat—
A hundred miles. A hundred miles.
The low murmur surges gently in the bar, resonating as if from the depths of the soul.
Unconsciously, the gaze and attention drift toward that solitary lamp.
There's nothing particularly remarkable about it, yet it somehow draws the heart. Amidst the persistent din and clamor in the air, one's emotions gradually sink into the piercing chill and desolation of winter through the melody.
When the performance ends, hearts, stirred and restless, seek refuge in distraction. Guests at the bar glance back at their friends, raising their voices to resume conversation, masking their momentary vulnerability.
As if nothing had happened.
Yet, the figure on the stage remains unfazed, wholly immersed in their world.
Slender yet powerful fingers dance lightly over the strings of the guitar.
The melody flows like a stream.
The world, miraculously, falls silent. A breeze carries over vast blue seas, journeying far and wide to embrace a lush green forest ahead. Waves crashing against rocks harmonize with rustling treetops, while pale golden sunlight pierces the cloudless blue sky, falling onto fingertips, spinning in delicate dances.
Then, the world holds nothing but the self, a guitar, and a voice.
"I don't ask for much..."
Clear, pure, and unblemished, the voice captures attention in an instant.
The words vanish in the throat, and instinctively, the gaze turns to the stage. A quiet collapse occurs deep within the heart, shedding armor and masks, leaving the softest and most fragile parts unexpectedly exposed.
"...just to hear you knock on my door. If I could see you once more, I'd face death with no regrets." (Note 1)
Gentle and faint, with neither dramatic highs nor lows, it's like lying on a lawn on a summer afternoon, gazing at the clear sky where clouds drift lazily. The quiet is soothing and peaceful, but when truly still, one senses the grandeur of time slipping through one's fingers.
A single guitar. Simple chords.
A single voice. True emotion.
That is more than enough.
"When you say your final goodbye, a corner of my heart quietly withers; confined to my bed, tears streaming down my face, alone without you by my side."
Between nonchalance and the lightness of a breeze, there's a subtle reveal of scars weathered through trials, and the staggering steps of one who's endured.
There's no bitterness, no resentment—only a faint smile curving upward, recalling the happiness and joy that once soared between the strings.
The heart trembles.
"But if you ever truly loved me, why did you leave?"
"Take me away, take me away..."
"All I want, all I need is to find someone, someone... just like you."
Sadness lingers briefly, only to be swept away the next moment as fingertips begin to fly over the strings, melodies bursting forth. The joy and delight surge, radiating from the clear voice that hums:
"Just like you..."
"Just like you..."
Without realizing it, the heart races.
In surprise and awe, one looks up, focusing on the figure bathed in soft, golden light. The man's mouth, hidden beneath a rugged beard, curls into a subtle, radiant smile.
It's clearly a quiet, sorrowful song, but now, turbulent waves surge, filling hearts with boundless emotion.
Closing their eyes, they imagine themselves running across an endless desert, arms spread wide to embrace the wild winds. Running and running, the wasteland transforms into forests, shedding gray and brown hues, diving into an ocean of green. Every pore opens, taking deep, liberating breaths.
It's freedom. It's joy. It's bliss.
Laughter blooms without restraint.
Yet why do the eyes brim with tears?
"Look, you made me better, a version of myself even I don't recognize. You took my soul, cleaned it, and turned our love into a cinematic memory."
Fingers soar; the melody races.
The rhythm hidden beneath the song quickens, bubbling with exhilaration. The emotions conveyed in the words shed their shadows—not grief, not pain, not struggle—but the strength to face oneself after the passing of time.
Most importantly, it's about growth, transformation, and breaking free from the cocoon to become a butterfly.
"But if you ever truly loved me, why did you leave?"
"Take me away, take me away..."
"All I want, all I need is to find someone, someone... just like you."
In the small, bustling bar, every gaze locks on the figure on stage. Even Jim and Rebecca pause, tilting their heads as they watch quietly, their hearts wandering freely in the warmth of the moment.
Then, the man's smile grows.
Breaking free of chains, escaping confinement, shedding burdens—
He bursts into a sprint.
Plucking the strings faster and faster, fingers dance with dazzling speed, their movement a blur.
The once-gentle stream now joins a roaring river, rushing westward to meet the vast ocean, where waves crash and roar.
Hearts race faster, faster, hurtling forward at full speed.
They're back in their youth, where worries, pain, and struggles were relentless. Adolescence felt endless and dark, with no end in sight. Desperately seeking rescue but finding no solace, they clung tightly to themselves, weeping in the shadows.
Step by step.
Day by day.
Holding on, until one day, they could no longer endure. So, they began to run.
Directionless, purposeless, like children, they ran freely and wildly, breaking free of restraints and chains, embracing freedom with courage.
As they ran, their hearts began to beat again.
As they ran, smiles crept onto their faces.
As they ran, dawn began tearing through the darkness.
The surging melody, strumming strings, and pounding rhythm merge into a mighty tide, roaring in their ears.
Hearts feel as though they'll burst.
Underneath that single lonely lamp, the man sings out—
"Oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh… oh… oh oh oh… oh oh oh oh…"
Bit by bit, the melody climbs higher.
Feet tap, shirts flutter, winds rage—they finally break free, emerging from the scars and darkness of memory.
They embrace the sunlight.
Laughing and crying all at once, with no time to care, they simply sprint with abandon, finally becoming butterflies.
And at last, they've grown up.
Note 1: "All I Want" – Kodaline.
(End of chapter)