Chapter 6
Previously On Our Unexpected Entanglement
Melody's Thoughts
Well, I guess people can stand up for you in real life… especially for me….I thought it was just some bogus fictional thing in dramas and novels.
*I then heard a ring on my phone and began to unlock and scroll through my phone…. It was a text message... from my... mother.
HapsApp
Chat Room
Harmony Jones
Melody I'm back in Ably for a TV show, and I need a ride and possibly somewhere to stay until production is finished. So clean up your room and pick me up at FISA, Fletcher International Studio Agency, tomorrow at 8 pm. And don't be late.
Continuation
Chat Room Ended
Melody Jones
I didn't reply back, only leaving the two automatic blue ticks to pop up on the side of her message
Description
Melody is currently lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling while clutching a pillow
Melody's Thoughts
We've contacted each other so few times, and to think she would message me like this is saddening. A proper greeting would be nice, especially after seven years of no chatting. Who does she think she is, someone she could just call me whenever she wants to? Her unexpected message really worked up a nerve in me.
This made me wonder: why really am I feeling so defensive? Was I…really expecting her…to be like a real mother to me…or at least act like one? *I then slowly lyed in bed, soaking in the situation.
*Though, before I knew it, my tear-filled eyelids clutched onto each other quietly*. It was a complication that I would have to endure for another day
The Next Day
Description
*Melody was currently standing behind the counter of the cash register. Her job was at the local convenience store known as 'Yum Yum Galore'. She was currently 9 hours into her 10-hour shift before noticing a young girl.???
(Little Girl)
(She had long blonde hair and huge purple eyes. Her features and skin tone were of a porcelain doll...she almost reminded me of someone)
*She had been blowing on the harmonica for up to an hour now. Each note was off-tune. She took every couple of minutes to slurp on her banana milk and spicy ramen before stubbornly playing back again, even while off-key*
*She sighs loudly, throwing the harmonica down harshly while pouting in rage*
"To hell with this skibidi instrument".
*She rushes out of the store, only the banana milk left in her hand*
Melody's Thoughts
…| _ |…(wth…is that how kids word their anger these days)
I quickly shook my head at that thought and instead focused on the harmonica she hit against the table…a portable yet soundly free-reeded wind instrument. The harmonica originally dated back to the ancient Chinese free-reed instrument known as the ''sheng'' which used bamboo reeds. It was then reinvented in the 1820s by a German, making the modern Western harmonica we now know today.
*I walked up to the table and began to throw the ramen scraps and any excess food in the garbage, only to see that the little girl had left the harmonica*
It was a name brand, and its particular model was rather pricey…My great-grand uncle, "Herbert Jones"…was known for his precise pitch on this instrument. The jazz in his heart and tone could never be defeated and never overlooked. It was a popular instrument in its time before it slowly diminished in value.… It was one of the first instruments I learned to play…though that was like thirteen years ago.
*I gently rested my hand on the harmonica, picking it up while cherishing the nostalgia I felt*
*Then I used my sleeve to give it a quick wipe before slowly blowing into each cell of the harmonica.*
*Depicting the unique sound of each individual to play the standard C major scale on this 10-hole diatonic harmonica*
C- Do
D- Re
E- Mi
F- Fa
G- So
A- La
B- Ti
C- Do
*Smiles in joy*…this brings back so many memories!!!
*begins to play regular jazz music*
???(Little Girl)
(Mom's gonna crash out if I don't find that harmonica)
*She rushes back into the store*
Excuse me, old lady, have you seen a rectangular-metal thingamajig that can blow sounds… *She immediately stops in her tracks as she notices her playing a melody on the harmonica* …it actually works…a…and… you're playing it….SO GOOD
(W Aura)
Melody
(I quickly got out my notepad and wrote down)
…Oh this…I'm sorry…I saw it on the table and was…
Melody's Thoughts
(hold up, why the hell am I giving excuses to a literal child and did she just call me old lady…(I__I)…or am I tweaking)
*I then got a napkin from my cashier station and wiped it before giving it to her*
(I then scribbled her some inspiring words)
"…don't mind me…here you go…and I wish you the best in learning this instrument to the fullest.
*I cracked a smile*
???(Little Girl)
Thanks…and you're really good at that…maybe you should be doing something more than just a convenience store granny. Momma always says, "A gift unused is a gift wasted". The little girl chuckles as she takes the harmonica and skips out of the store
Melody's Thoughts
...did I really just get told off by a literal 5-year-old….l_l....she sighs… For some reason it hurts even more when some snotty-nosed brat tells you the truth about yourself. It's been years now….why can't I move on?
Nevertheless, at least my shift is finally over. I sigh. I'll close up and head out
*Scene shifts to Melody switching the "Open" sign to "Close", and getting into her small 2010 car.
Melody's Thoughts
Unlike most actresses' children, I am filthy ri-….broke.(Hahaaha I almost got you there) After Mom had legally abandoned me, finding a job was my utmost concern. However, having no degrees, special achievements, and worse, no verbal communication had segregated me from most jobs. Nonetheless, I was blessed to work at this small convenience store because of an old lady who couldn't manage the store anymore by herself due to arthritis. Indeed, I make a bit more than minimum wage and am grateful for this job, but sometimes it's really hard to make ends meet.
*I then used my key to start my car, as well as a couple of hits on the dashboard for it to fully cut on.*
Harmony was an old 2010 car that I got from a car junkyard for $1500. Regardless of my car's many disfunctions, it gets the job done and was one hunk of low price. Laddering back to the name of the car...yes indeed, I did name it after my mother. She reminded me of her...old and decrepit, but I was still grateful for her.
*I then sigh and caress my chin as if I'm trying to remember something I forgot to do.*
Oh yeah...|__|…Mom, I forgot I had to get her
*Time skip*
*Scene shifts, Melody is just pulling up to the gate guarding FISA (Fletcher International Studio Agency). The building is 8 floors high with an almost blinding ambiance and crystal-clear windows that reflect the vast city of Inchilen.*
Melody's Thoughts
....Darn…. Mom works here…* My thoughts were then interrupted when a security guard stopped me.*
He was round, with tanned skin, a bald spot on his head, and a goatee on his chin that he kept itching.
Security Guard
...…Good night, young Ms....I don't allow any and everything to pass these poles (vehicle barrier) over there, so what affiliation do you have today that brings you to FISA?
Melody
*I then rummage in my bag and get out my notebook before writing down something and showing him*
Good night, Officer. I am here to pick up Ms. Harmony Jones. She is my mom. I can show you ID if you want and an invoice of her message if that is fine with you, sir.
Security Guard
….Harmony…he thinks for a couple of seconds…oh yeah, I remember she mentioned she would have a different chauffeur driving her home tonight...Who would've expected that she meant her next daughter, am I right? *(He bursts out laughing while arching his back and grabbing his knees as if gasping for air because of how funny the joke his.) (He then catches himself and stands back up straight) Anyway, you can drive past. *He presses a button in the booth to lift up the vehicle barrier* and say hello to her for me
Melody Thoughts
"What does he mean by next?..| _ |…and what's with the stale joke"
(Melody then passed through the open barriers and drove into the carport in front of the building)
…I immediately brought Harmony (the car) to a halt and found my way to the reception of FISA
... Before I could reach the receptionist desk, I noticed my mother walking into my line of sight. Even her sudden appearance had drawn looks from the staff and other actresses as she moved closer. She was still as captivating as I remembered...her curled brown hair, following along her broad facial features that paired well with her makeup to really spike her beauty...Though… this time she wasn't alone; she was with a little girl. It seemed to be the little brat whom I met in the shop… I wonder why she's here?
???(Little Girl)
Ooh, look, Mommy, it's that deaf granny I met in the shop. She was really talented at playing that Har-…well….whatever that thingamajig is called. She lightly nudged and tugged on the side of Ms. Jones' blouse to get her attention, as well as pointing at me.
Melody Thoughts
….my heart sank a bit as I heard the little girl refer to my mother as 'Mommy'… Mom knew I couldn't speak… but she sure as hell knew I could hear. … . I didn't cry yet, at least…but… she could've seen my eyelids start to swell, and the pain...evident in my eyes...The years of hurt were already hard to forgive... b…b.but why double it.…
At this moment…. I….I felt… 'betrayed'…