Lampshade (Short Story)

(Disclaimer: This is my first attempt to write a short story, so please bear with yours truly. Enjoy if you may...)

Lampshade

They
say that music is the common language that is understood by everyone in the
world, and a song is the language of the soul. No wonder good and popular
melodies are produced by great minds and meaningful feelings. But like every
story, a real story is behind it: behind every song, is a soul.

Kyle
Andre Montemayor is an aspiring composer, and a frustrated writer. At the age
of 24, he has already received numerous recognitions both in school and writing
contests for his skill in writing. But he’s not an author in profession, nor a
musician, he is a call center agent – a commoner who sleeps at daytime and
works on the graveyard shift.

Inside
his studio-type condominium unit around 3:00 AM at the 14^th floor,
room 143 of Vivere Suites, Filinvest Corporate City, Alabang, Muntinlupa City,
Kyle sits at the rightmost corner of his room. Alone, he sits on a swivel chair
beside his messy, wooden study table; in front of him is a pen, a piece of
paper, and ink blots all over it. Illuminated only by the bleak light of his
one-year and eleven-month old lampshade, he stares into nothingness, thinking.
As the unnerving feeling crept all over the veins of his body, Kyle realizes
that this is his first time to do such a thing. He is to write a song – his first ever song. But his mind is
blank as black. He can’t think of something to draw inspiration…

Not
until.

Last
night, on the eve of Valentine’s Day, the unexpected happened. His two-year old
boyfriend broke up with him, and the reason, he doesn’t know. Yes, Kyle is gay
– a bisexual. Their two-year
rollercoaster-like relationship has finally come to an end. And worse, he
thought that their supposed true love was worth the effort to fight for.

Two
nights ago, around 7:35 PM at his condominium unit, Kyle and his boyfriend was
busy cuddling each other on the swivel chair. It has been a month since they
saw each other, and the only reason why his boyfriend was there is because
February 13 is Kyle’s birthday. When they were just about to lock lips, the
familiar sound of an opening door filled the silent, romantic condominium air.
And next thing Kyle knew, his father has already started cursing him and his boyfriend,
and his mother stood still on the door, stunned, with tears falling down her
aged cheeks. Kyle tried to explain and explain, he fought for the sake of the
two years he had invested on loving his boyfriend, but his father’s answer was
a hard punch on his right face, a curse, and a spit. After those awkward and
scandalous moments of his life, his parents and boyfriend left, and he knew
what’s next to come: he is no longer a Montemayor.

Just
this night, upon arrival at his work in HSBC
Ortigas at around 8:40 PM, he thought everything would be normal. He has
accepted the fact that his parents could not accept his being bisexual, but he still
questions the sudden break up of him and his boyfriend. He thought positively,
that maybe his boyfriend was just still afraid of what happened on his
condominium last, last night; that maybe his boyfriend needs to think and
rethink and then would come to realize that their love is strong: that maybe
his boyfriend needs space after what happened. He knew his boyfriend, he knows
that they love each other very much – that’s what he knew.

As
he pushed the up button of the elevator on the HSBC building’s lobby, he waited with a positive vibe that
everything would be OK in a matter of days, hours, minutes, and seconds. But after
a few seconds, the elevator door pushed open; and after a split second, his
world collided and crashed right in front of the two most unlikely persons he
would want to see together. In front of him stood two persons, both on their
casual attires; a few seconds ago, the two were sweet and holding hands, now
they both wear frightened faces with bulging eyes. One was Kyle’s boss, a
self-confessed gay, around 30 plus; and the other one was his boyfriend – the
love of his life. He did not let them to speak up, nor to step out of the
elevator; instead, he ran as fast as he could. He escaped the humiliation, the
reality that surprised him. He got a cab, rode on it, and turned-off his
cellular phone.

Now
here he is, at the rightmost corner of his room, sitting on his swivel chair
beside his messy, wooden study table, on top was a paper, a pen on his right
hand, illuminated by the first gift of his boyfriend. He turned to the only
thing he knew that comforts him – writing. But unlike his old masterpieces,
this time he wants to write a song. After reminiscing the past events of his
semi-charmed life, he began to push the pen on the ink-blotted paper… he began
to write.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On
the morning of February 15^th, 2006, a man’s body was found at the 14^th
floor, room 143 of Vivere Suites, Filinvest Corporate
City, Alabang, Muntinlupa City.
The authorities discovered the body around 7:00 AM, it was hanging from the unit’s
ceiling, with the swivel chair almost under the man’s feet. In the man’s right
hand was a pen, and on the study table beside where they found the swivel chair
and the body hanging, they found not a love letter nor a suicidal note, but a
composition. It was Kyle Andre Montemayor’s first song, A Love Letter For No One.