Make A Mistake With Me - Prologue, Part 1: Blue Monday

>Coffee and cigarettes
>That’s about what you had to your name, at the moment.
>You are Anonymous, and you are stuck in the band room at the moment.
>Well, less “stuck”, more “better here than anywhere else.”
>Your studio flat, quite frankly, reeked like corpses and was covered in trash bags.
>So much for fresh start after juvie.
>Sure enough, you skipped town and arrived to this city.
>Hell, you even enrolled into the local high school (which was a miracle in itself.)
>But it looks like old habits die hard, especially when there’s no motivation for change.
>In just few short weeks, your new apartment started looking like a landfill.
>Thus, there was nothing waiting for you there.
>And it’s not like you had made any friends to hang out with during your time in CHS.
>Really, most of the students avoided you like a plague, and rumors run rampart.
>Which was just fine with you.
>After all, it’s what made your current situation possible.
>Cigarette on the lips, thermos of tar-esque coffee next to you, and an old guitar in your hands.
>You were as close to heaven as you had been in six months.
>You feel a slight tingle as your fingers fly on the neck, sliding up on an open A-string.
>Whorehouse Blues echoes in the silence of the dusk-dyed school.
>Thought you doubted the pair of raspberry-colored eyes looking at you recognizes the song.

>You hum to the tune you were playing and act like you didn’t notice.
>Whoever was spying you from behind the door wasn’t exactly Big Boss.
>But other than the occasional hushed whisper, she wasn’t bothering you.
>Still, you couldn’t but to overhear the conversation… or, at least, one side of it.
>Sounded like she was on the phone.
>”T-the band room’s a no-go! Someone’s in there! Someone weeeeeeird!”
>”No, I can’t! He’s, like, three times my height! For realsies!”
>”You do it, Aria!”
>”N-no, but, I---“
>”Nuh-uh! You are!”
>Oh boy. Looks like you had stumbled upon something troublesome.
>You took a drag from your cigarette and heaved the smoke through your teeth.
>This might turn ugly if things went south.
>The only thing you could hope for was that this wasn’t some student-utilizing hunt for delinquents.
>If it was just some idiot looking for a place to stash her booze, that you could cope with.
>Hell, you might have tried to buy a bottle.
>But if this was connected in any way to that Principal…
>Shit, the memory of your first meeting still gave you shivers. That ma’am was not to be messed with.
>But! Back to the present.
>Namely, the door of the band room slamming open.
>”S-smoking on the school’s premises is, like, illegal, you know!?”
>Hoo boy.

>Blue and purple. Hair on an energetic ponytail that bounced to the rhythm of her breathing.
>Whoever this girl was, at least she knew how to leave an impression with her style.
>Still, the confident image was marred by how she was shaking.
>Her whole body seemed to scream how confronting you was the last thing that she wanted to do.
>But seeing, and more importantly, smelling her left you relaxed.
>That smell that hung around her… you knew it all too well.
>Small grin forms on your lips.
“I know. I just don’t care. What’cha gonna do, brother?”
>Clearly not the answer she was looking for. The girl tilts her head in confusion.
>However, she recovers just as quickly.
>”I’ll… I’ll report to Principal Celestia! And I’m not a brother, but with the Student Council, you know?”
>Wow. It had been a while since you had heard a lie that bad.
“No you won’t. In fact, you’re not with those goons. From what I can see, you’re just trying to make me leave.”
>Bullseye. The girl recoils in a surprise.
>”H-how did you know!?”
“Mostly judging by the state of your clothes, and your smell. It’s been a while since you showered, huh?”
>Another bullseye. She was now holding onto the door as a support.
>Looks like you had hit closer to home than she wanted.
>“Is it… like, that obvious?”
>She looks rather embarrassed.
>The sight was endearing enough that you have to take another drag just to hide your grin.
“As a former homeless, it strikes a chord with me. Dunno about others.”
>This seems to surprise her in a different way. She leans a bit closer, eyes wide.
>”Wait… you’re homeless, too?”

>You shrug and continue strumming the vaguely familiar chords.
“Not anymore. I used to be, though. That’s why it’s easy to spot someone in the same situation.”
>You chuckle a bit.
“Thanks for the confirmation though. Now it’s clear I have nothing to worry about.”
>That made her expression quickly sour.
>It seemed that now that her lie had been busted, she no longer had any idea what to do.
>”Aww, now I went and messed up. Aria’s gonna kill me. For realsies, this time.”
>The sight before you made the old guitar in your hands seem real interesting all of a sudden.
>Damn girl had the perfect “kicked puppy” moment going on.
>You almost felt like Indy before the Arc of Covenant.
>Keep your eyes shut, Anon!
>And so, a moment of awkward silence falls over the room.
>You do your best to fill it with the sound of your guitar, but it’s not really working.
>So, eventually, you succumb. To a degree.
“You know, I’m not moving from this room… but I don’t mind other people here.”
>This catches her attention.
“So if this is your hangout or whatever, I’m not driving you out.”
>”Really? Even if I’m…”
>She left those words hanging in the air stiffly.
>Looks like someone else had their collection of bones in their closet.
“Don’t care, Blue. You don’t pry into my business, I don’t pry into yours. Deal?”
>The girl before you smiles for the first time. She nods enthusiastically.
>With a little bounce in her step now, she enters the band room and looks around.
>However, just as quickly, she looks back at you, a little confused look on her face.
>”I’m Sonata, by the way. Not Blue.”
“Whatever you say, sister.”
>”And I’m not your sister, either. At least I hope I'm not!”
>You heave a heavy sigh and grimace. This was going to be a chore.
“I know that. It’s just… it’s just a saying. Don’t mind me.”
>”Alrighty, then I won’t!”

>The blue-haired girl, Sonata, is quick to lose her interest in you.
>Instead, she makes a beeline straight for your thermos, with curious sparkle in her eyes.
>She peers into the container, only to draw immediately away like the sight had burnt her face.
>”W-what’s that!? It looks, like, boiling asphalt!”
>You smile a bit smugly.
“Never seen real coffee before, I take it?”
>”I’ve seen coffee, and that’s not it! That’s… that’s just something evil!”
“Never knock something before you try it. Didn’t your mama ever tell you that?”
>Your lopsided joke has a bit of a surprising effect.
>Sonata’s expression droops, and she shuffles around awkwardly.
>”Umm… I dunno. I don’t remember my mama.”
>Well shit.
>Now you went and made things depressing.
>… Or so you thought, but it looks like the girl’s forgotten about it already.
>Indeed, she’s busying herself by pouring some of your coffee to the cup.
>And, surprisingly enough, she’s humming along with the tune of your instrument.
>Chuckling in relief, you return to strumming your guitar.
>At some point, Whorehouse Blues had morphed into Jessica.
>You hadn’t even really realized it.
>Was it because of this girl’s perky aura? Sure, she still seemed bit uncomfortable around you, but…
>Underneath that shifty way she held herself seemed to shine some sort innocence.
>At least enough to brighten your mood a bit.
>”Eugh! Uagh! G-gaah!”
>You are snapped from your thoughts by sounds of pure disgust.
>Looking at its source, you see that Sonata has already had a taste of the coffee.
>She’s currently writhing on the floor, doing her best cerebral palsy impression.
>”It… It tastes like death! For realsies!”
“And yet it makes you feel alive. Grand are life’s mysteries, huh?”
>Sonata responds by making puking sounds and wiping her tongue with a napkin.

>Eventually Sonata seems to calm down, or, at the very least, get the taste out of her mouth.
>She sighs in relief and sits down on one of the amps close by.
>You frown at the sight a bit.
>It’s not like the girl can weigh that lot, but still, that’s just rude.
>She notices your expression, and grins sheepishly.
>”So, umm… what’s your name?”
>Here comes the forced ice-breaker.
“Anon.”
>”Anon? I’m Sonata! Nice to meet’cha!”
“Yeah, I know. You told me already.”
>”Oh! So I did.”
>She giggles in delight.
>Looks like this one’s easy to amuse, at the very least.
>After a moment of silence, she crosses her legs and leans against them.
>”So, like, what are you doing here, Anon?”
>You grimace again. Looks like small-talk is unavoidable.
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
>You try to convey your annoyance with your tone.
>Such subtle message misses her by couple miles and crashes into some runaway big rig out in Nevada.
>”Well, it looks like you’re smoking illegally and hiding away in the band room, playing a guitar.”
>Sonata manages to even look proud at her answer.
>It was just a rhetorical question, you nitwit.
>Don’t look so smug dammit!
“I suppose it does. In other words, I came here to be alone.”
>”Oh! So, how’s that working out for you?”
>If your hands weren’t focused on the strings, you’d have them have a quick pow-wow with your forehead right about now.
“Oh, it’s working out great. Just marvelously, in fact.”
>Even though your voice is dripping with sarcasm like venom from snake’s fangs, it goes unnoticed.
>The blue-haired goof next to you just smiles happily.

>You once again focus on the guitar in your hands, trying to ignore the drill-like gaze of the girl.
>If she was really supposed to drive you away from this room, she’s not going that good of a job.
>… Or, maybe she is.
>This silence between you two is getting pretty unbearable.
>You eventually decide to break it.
“So? What are you actually doing here?”
>”Oh, we usually sleep here since the place is unlocked, so Adagio sent me ahead to make sure nobody was here.”
>The girl happily blabs on, without a care in the world.
>”But since it turned out you were here, she and Aria were like: ‘Get rid of him, now!’ and stuff.”
>The happy expression makes way for a pout as Sonata crosses her arms.
>”But, like, how am I supposed to do that? You’re huge! And look scary! And—“
>Suddenly, she clamps her hands over her mouth, looking shocked.
>Well, it was about time she noticed she had just ratted her true intentions.
>You chuckle and turn your attention back to the guitar.
“And you just blew your plan, so I have even less intention of moving from here. Way to go, goof.”
>”Oh no, what’re we gonna do now? I don’t wanna go back to the streets…”
>Ignoring her, you bring the current melody to a close, and let your fingers rest for a moment.

>You reach for the still-steaming cup of coffee and take big swig.
>The lava-like substance fills your mouth, and for a moment, you feel at peace.
>Satisfied, you stump your cigarette in the makeshift ashtray.
>All while trying to ignore the girl despairing next to you.
>”See, we got kicked out of home few months ago…”
“Uh huh.”
>You feign disinterest.
>It’s not that you’re totally against talking with Sonata, but her situation is none of your business.
>Therefore, you pluck a few notes instead, fumbling for any melody to fill the silence.
>She simply fidgets her fingers, looking rather downcast.
>You can only hope she’s not the type to confine in total strangers.
>”We… we did something pretty bad.”
>Oy vey.

>”We were pretty nasty before. Like, super nasty. And we wanted to use lotsa people for our own gain.”
>You didn’t want to hear this. This had nothing to do with you.
>Couldn’t she seek a counseling session from someone professional?
>You were just a delinquent hiding away in the band room, goddammit!
>”But we got caught and then, um… we were punished. They took away what made so dangerous.”
>”After that, we’ve been scraping by. It’s been super hard. Everyone hates us, after all…”
>You focus on staring at the guitar strings.
>The sight of something glimmering in Sonata’s eyes is not something you want to intrude upon.
>You have that much respect for her.
>”And Adagio and Aria hate everyone else. So nothing’s getting better. Nothing’s fun anymore.”
>”It’s not like I wanna go back to way things were. We were mean to each other back then, too.”
>Sonata sighs and looks down at her hands.
>”I just wish the three of us could still have some fun. Even if it was just us…”
>And with that, she falls silent once more.
>You’re left to fill the room with some notes that sound grating even to your own ear.
>Even if you did tune the guitar before starting.
>Strange, that.
>Eventually you simply give up, and reach in your pocket for another cigarette.
>As you light it up, you glance at Sonata.
>Her eyes are now staring at the floor, and her expression could put a whole dog pound to shame.
>Goddammit, you were not used to dealing with girls like this.
>Why did she just suddenly show a vulnerable side to a guy she barely knew?
>Who does that!?
>You folded your arms and leaned back your chair.
>You stared at the smoke rising from the tip of your cigarette, gilded by the light of the setting sun.
>Strangely enough, the sight makes words form your lips.
“You know… nobody goes through this life and does everything perfectly.”
>Sonata looks at you, surprise written all over her face.
>She really didn’t expect that.

>Suddenly, Sonata snorts in amusement, and a hint of a smile rises to her lips.
>”That’s… Brad Paisley, right?”
“Huh?”
>”That’s from Brad Paisley’s song, isn’t it? I thought it sounded familiar.”
>Now that you think about it, yeah, it was.
>You hadn’t even realized that when you spoke it.
>Still, the words had felt fitting considering what you had just heard.
>At the very least, the words had some positive effect on the girl.
>She no longer looked like her pet had been crushed under the body of her dead mother.
“So… you listen to Paisley?”
>Sonata nods after some hesitation.
>”Um, sorta. Adagio wanted us to focus on one genre, but I couldn’t help but to experiment a bit.”
>She scratched her cheek, looking a bit embarrassed.
>”But, like, I wasn’t really good at singing in any other style, so I just listened to CDs.”
>”Since, you know, we were preparing for the competition.”
>Suddenly, something hits you.
>It was like puzzle-pieces that had been nagging in your head were locked in place.
>You had heard about this girl and her friends before.
>When you arrived not too long ago, you heard some rumors.
>About some sort of “Battle of the Bands” that had happened.
>And how some girls participating in it had used some… questionable means.
>You never heard any details, but you could guess that one of those girls was now before you.
>Suddenly their insistence of sleeping in the band room made all too much sense.

“So, you sing, huh?”
>To emphasize your actual point, you plucked the first few notes of the song you had just talked about.
>”O-oh, um, not really. Not anymore. I just… I just sound terrible now. For realsies.”
“Hey, it’s not like I’m Setzer or anything, either. You should sing if you want to.”
>Sonata waves her arms hastily.
>”It’s alright, really! I’m… I’m fine.”
“Oh. Well, suit yourself.”
>You shrug and continue playing. It’s a bit of a shame, but you can’t really force the girl.
>You let the melody flow from your fingertips.
>Its hopeful tones fill the band room, mixing with the orange light pouring in from the outside.
>You have to admit, it wasn’t a bad choice at all, considering the atmosphere.
>Of course, it would have been better if there was someone to sing along with it, but alas.
>Even if she had hummed along with you before, if she didn’t want to sing, that was that.
>You just let the first part of the song repeat itself.
>It was relaxing in itself, but it was also an invitation.
>At the very least, you wanted to let her know that skills or no, she was welcome to join in at any time.
>… Even if you didn’t know the reason why you wanted that.

>Suddenly, you hear it.
>It starts faint, hesitating, almost too quiet to hear.
>But as you don’t react to it, it gains some strength surprisingly quickly.
>It’s a feminine voice.
>And it’s coming from next to you.
>”Y-you over think things, you say what if w-we’re not meant to be…”
>You glance at Sonata.
>The girl’s hiding her face beneath her bangs, and you see a pink flush on her cheeks.
>Her fingers are fidgeting faster than before, but it’s from excitement, not shame.
>With a faint smile rising to your lips, you take a drag from your cigarette and continue playing.
>Soon enough, the two of you are recreating that song you both knew.
> [YouTube] Brad Paisley - Make A Mistake With Me (embed)
>The further you continue, the more confidence Sonata’s voice gains.
>Sure enough, when she gets enough strength behind it, you can’t help but to wince a bit.
>It’s bad. Really bad.
>You understand why she’d be so hesitant to sing these days.
>But at the same thing, you can’t help but to marvel at the earnest passion behind it.
>She may sing horribly, but she sings straight from her heart.
>It’s been a while since you heard such innocent love towards music itself.
>It’s enough to make you forget the lack of skill as you lead you two into the bridge.
>You lose yourselves into the music, and let the world around you fade away momentarily.

>There’s nothing else important at this very moment.
>Just the sound of the old acoustic guitar you’re playing.
>And the untrained voice of Sonata accompanying it.
>The orange-dyed band room in otherwise empty school.
>The smoke of your cigarette slowly rising towards the ceiling.
>The cheerful smile spreading to the lips of the girl next to you.
>The rhythmic tapping of your foot that you barely even realize.
>The soft clapping of Sonata’s hands as she paces herself to the melody.
>It all mixes together to create what you can only describe as a “moment.”
>It doesn’t matter whether either of you is that great at playing or singing.
>What you’re creating right now is still, undoubtedly, music.
>After all, it’s coming from two people enjoying what they are doing.
>It only takes that much.
>Just like that, the awkward pauses and forced conversations are swept aside.
>What is left is understanding.
>In such a simple way, you’ve found the right tune to connect yourself with this girl.
>Human interaction is surprisingly easy, after all.
>It doesn’t need much thought put into it.
>As long as you can find something you both feel is fun, then it’s alright.
>And this song is the discovery you’ve made with Sonata.
>You raise your gaze, and notice that the blue-haired girl is staring straight at you.
>Gone is the sadness that you saw before.
>It has been replaced with, of all things, gratitude.
>You’re a bit surprised.
>You continue playing, but at the same time, you don’t even focus on your hands anymore.
>The same thing seems to happening with her.
>You simply look into each other’s eyes.
>That raspberry-colored stare is drilling itself into your deepest thoughts.
>For some reason, you feel heat overtake your cheeks.
>And yet… you don’t break away.
>After all, it’s just part of this “moment.”
>Nothing needs to be said or done. It’s just the music and the two of you.
>And that, as they, is alright.

>”Sonata! Just *what* are you screeching in here?”
>As before, the door of the band room is slammed open with quite the force.
>The sudden interruption makes you strike the wrong chord.
>Just like that, the song comes to a jarring halt.
>The two of you stare at the girls standing in the door way.
>One of them has orange hair the size of the Hindenburg, and a haughty expression.
>The other one could make a lemon tree blush in shame with the sourness of her scowl.
>It seems the Poofy Haired One is about to berate Sonata some more, but jerks back after seeing you.
>”And… who is this?”
>She asks, folding her arms and glaring daggers at you.
>”Oh! That’s Anon! Anon, this is Adagio and Aria!”
>The blue-haired goof next to you has zero ability in reading the mood, it seems.
>”Oh. So this is *him*. Sonata, wasn’t there *something* you were supposed to do about… this?”
>Adagio makes a much-telling gesture with her hand, waving a little towards you.
>This seems to bring Sonata back to the matter at hand, as she grimaces in embarrassment.
>”Oh, right. Umm, well, you see—“
“Nah, that’s alright, Sonata. I was just about to leave after this song, anyhow.”

>Your words catch her by surprise.
>”You were? But, you said…”
“I’ve had my coffee and smoked enough to ruin one room. I think that’s a job well done, no?”
>You grin at her as you pack away your thermos, and return the guitar to its stand.
>As you get ready to leave, Sonata gets up from the amp and walks over to you.
>She shuffles a bit awkwardly, but still manages to smile.
>”Umm, Anon? That was, like, super fun. For realsies.”
“Yeah. I suppose it was. It was a welcome break from playing alone.”
>Adagio and Aria look at you two in confusion as you chuckle.
>It seems they have no idea what’s going on.
>After saying goodbye to Sonata, you head out of the band room, brushing past the two who interrupted you.
>Aria merely scoffs at you, but Adagio is giving you a scrutinizing glare.
>To be honest, it unnerves you a bit.
>You knew girls like her. They were seriously nothing but trouble.
>You hurry your steps a bit. The faster you put some distance between you two, the better.

>As you are about to exit the band room, you suddenly hear Sonata calling out to you.
>”Thanks, Anon! I’m feeling much better now!”
>You smile back at her, and give her a small wave.
>She enthusiastically waves her hand back.
>”I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow!”
>Tomorrow, huh?
>That was a bit unexpected.
>But if you were honest with yourself, it wasn’t… unwelcome.
>You hadn’t really made any new acquaintances at the CHS, after all.
>As you walk down the corridor, you can still hear the faint sounds of the trio talking with each other.
>”Okay, Sonata, you were right. That guy was, ugh, super weird.”
>Sounds like you didn’t leave a good impression on Aria.
>”I agree with you there… but I noticed a distinct lack of scorn for us. What was up with that?”
>It was kinda sad that that was what Adagio paid attention to.
>”Oh, I think he, like, transferred here not long ago! He was really fun! Weird… but fun!”
>You really didn’t want to hear that from Sonata, of all people.
>Eventually even their voices faded away as you got closer to the main entrance.
>It was back to the landfill-like apartment with you, but, for some reason, you didn’t mind.
>In fact, you were in a much better mood than you had been in a long while.
>Humming the tune you had been just playing, you threw around the thermos in your hands.
>The smoke on your lips burned with newfound vigor.
>You were Anonymous.
>Cigarettes and coffee were still just about the only things you had to your name.
>But after today… you also had a new friend.