That’s Why I Cry On Company Time

For as long as he had known Silas Redwell, Mika had disliked him.

The first time he had ever met the mousey violinist was during his regular trips to the music department. His coworker and sister Clair had always said that the best work is done collaboratively, and for the most part Mika agreed. However, he lost her point once that collaboration extended across departments. Of course, with Mr. Drew’s fickle sense of quality it was usually better to bounce ideas off of multiple people, so he reluctantly obliged. Trips up and down to the composers became a part of the writing cycle.

Their first conversation seemed to set the tone for Mika’s future thoughts. Redwell rounded a corner too fast, drink in hand, and wound up soiling Mika’s entire manuscript. The young man, trying his best to salvage the remaining pages but instead smearing them further, stuttered and bleated apologies that fell upon ringing ears. Days of rewriting and reorganizing loomed before Mika, and he (embarrassingly) lost his temper. Slamming the soaked pages into Redwell’s chest, Mika spat insults and sulked back down to the writing department. 

Although the anger of their initial encounter had long faded, it seemed as though fate had something against Mika because he kept running into him. There was something about Redwell that just… irked him. Mika couldn’t tell if it was the way he spoke with a similar energy to a deflating balloon, his almost complete lack of spatial awareness, or that stupid little awkward chuckle of his.

It baffled him how this man could even keep a job. He never seemed to be able to sit still, and could always be heard drumming his fingers during quiet moments. He had even heard tales from Redwell’s more direct coworkers as well. Sometimes he would pass by conversations complaining about his screw-up of the day. Knocking over rows of sheet music stands, never knowing quite when to shut up, or similar confrontations to when Mika had met him. He supposed that the reason Redwell had stayed hired was similar to why Mika himself had even been hired in the first place; the studio needed anyone of any substance working. God knows that Mika’s own track record limited his options to pretty much just here.

Yet whenever he would happen upon the music department while Redwell was playing, his breath caught in his throat. Aside from the orchestra’s collective sound, even on his own Redwell was a remarkable violinist. Each note he plays is enchantingly delicate. As much as Mika would have liked to poke fun at the otherwise incompetent human, there was no mistaking that Silas Redwell was a masterful musician. Despite his better judgment and rigid schedule, Mika found himself listening to the orchestra play in a trance-like state. He also found himself watching Redwell from afar. 

Honestly there wasn’t much else to do around the studio, social-wise. Aside from the obvious (actually doing his job) and his frequent trips to the infirmary or running errands to the various departments, that is. He spent most of his time alone. Mika didn’t have many friends, after all. 

Of course there was his sister, but her constant bubbliness wore him out after a long day of working together. She was a brilliant storyteller and seemed to love her job. Clair had gotten along quite nicely with many of the other studio workers, despite the formidable language barrier. He understood what everyone liked about her so much, she was a wonderful person and a great friend. Mika, however, was not her. He wasn’t a people-person. None of her friends liked him, and he didn’t care. They were all just boring and conformist anyways. 

And then there was Chu. Chu Jiahao was his only friend at the studio, and a close coworker. Chu was patient, kind, and clever. Willing to put up with his ramblings no matter how snide and petty. Clair also knew him, but not as well as Mika did. But there was still a gap between the two of them. Chu cared about him in a way that gave Mika emotions he wasn’t ready to feel.

Sometimes when he was feeling lonely he’d find himself thinking of Redwell. Lying on the cold floor of his single bedroom apartment was a strange place to begin thinking about your work foe, but strangely enough it did happen a lot. Mika wondered what he must do at home, probably knocking over everything and filling the silence with his relentless tapping. In some messed up way, it made him smile to think of Redwell doing something stupid in the same type of  solitary apartment he was currently living in. Or maybe a worse one. The thought made him feel kinda bad for him. 

As time went on, Mika began to notice some things shifting. At first, it seemed that Redwell had some new people around him. Soon, his nervous stutter seemed to lessen. He had been making some friends. In spite of himself, Mika’s first thought was a childish ‘it’s not fair!’ because how could that man whom he was so sure he was better than make friends while he couldn’t? 

Soon, his despair morphed into loathing, and eventually settling in spite. Suddenly, every word he had to say about Redwell was snide. Every time the two made eye contact was now a competition that he was determined to win. He made sure his stone cold stare sent a shiver down his spine. Maybe he would slip his foot out, and cause him to stumble as he passed. Mika smiled at the way Redwell started to shrink into himself whenever he walked by. 

Mika may not have had anyone to talk to, but he still had ears. He began catching word that he had gotten real close to a voice actor girl recently. He had seen her himself a couple times, she went by the name of Katie Levenson. She was quite pretty, and had a radiant smile. It was no wonder the boy had wound up catching feelings and the two of them got together. 

For a reason he couldn’t quite figure out, this made Mika even more upset. He wasn’t crushing on Ms. Levenson, that was for sure. He had barely even spoken to her. So what was it that was bothering him so much? Hopefully it wasn’t anything about Mika’s own lack of companionship and, by extension, any sort of love life. That would be embarrassing to unpack. But of course, emotions are never that easy.

He found himself crying on the floor again that night. Pathetic, really. Oh, boo hoo, someone else is happy! He needed to get over himself.

He didn’t want a girlfriend. He didn’t think he’d ever cared much about women. But he couldn’t help but wonder what Redwell and Levenson were like together. Did they absentmindedly take each other’s hands when nearby? Did they hold each other close and just breathe in each other’s air? Had they gotten to the point of kissing? He didn’t want to know. Mika had never had anyone take his hand in theirs. Nobody had ever held him close like he was their world. He had never been kissed before.

At first he avoided Redwell entirely. He didn’t want to be near him during the honeymoon phase. If Mika had to bear witness to any giddiness or gushing, he thought he might puke. Then, the spite that he had kept on the back burner came back. This time, worse.

He wasn’t proud of himself, by any means. He was aware that there were certainly better ways to let off steam, but to be honest he was having fun. If that useless geek was going to surpass him in worth, he might as well dig down and topple him from the bottom up. To be honest, he really just wanted to see Redwell miserable. 

One day, Katie cornered him in a secluded area of the hallway. She wasn’t tall or strong, but her presence certainly could be commanding. Especially when she had him backed against a wall. 

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to cut it out,” she glared, “leave Silas alone.”

He hid his anxiety behind a sneer. There was something uniquely terrifying about seeing such a cheery and pleasant woman become so serious. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been picking on him for months, I've seen you.” Katie’s voice dipped into a growl. “You’re lucky Silas is too nervous to report you to upper management. You’d be fired by now.”

He blinked at her, tongue going dry when he should have spoken. “You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t care about that. All I want is for you to apologize. …No, that doesn’t even matter. Just stay away from us both. If you so much as breathe in his direction again, we will have a problem.”

“…Whatever.” Mika snarled, pushing past and knocking her shoulder on his way out. Katie protested from behind him, but he didn’t give her the time of day. 

From that point on, Mika stopped going to the music department. When there came a time where he had to go, he would make an excuse and send Clair or Chu in his place. He had learned his lesson, loud and clear. He needed this job, badly. And he didn’t doubt that Ms. Levenson would make good on her threat. 

After hours, he would sometimes linger around the outskirts of the music department, as if waiting for something to happen. Maybe if he was certain there was nobody left inside and was feeling particularly brave, he’d wander in to get lost in thought. To think about what his life would be if he didn’t end up trapped in the writing room, if maybe he had a musical talent. Sometimes he’d try the door to the recording room, wondering about the different instruments resting inside.

Piano had always spoken to him. Even when he was young, the melody captivated him like no other. He had never been very good though. Maybe he just didn’t have the right drive to pursue it. Maybe he just didn’t have the talent. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

It was late out that Friday night when he tried the recording room door and, to his surprise, it creaked open invitingly. Gingerly opening the door and taking a few steps inside, he jolted back upon locking eyes with a certain pair of ice blue eyes that he had been so careful to avoid. 

Redwell froze, squeaking like a mouse and seeming to shrink in his shoes. Mika shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to turn on his heel and speed walk away as fast as possible or to stand his ground and not show how afraid he was of that short freckled brunette who had given him a talking to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Redwell squeaked out, straightening his back and locking his knees in a futile attempt to hide his nerves. It just made Mika cringe.

After a moment of agonizing deliberation, he decided to commit to his original evening plan. Levenson wouldn’t get on his case over a coincidence, right? “Piano.”

Redwell blinked obliviously for a moment before his gaze fell onto the piano lodged in the corner of the room. “O-oh! Um… don’t let me stop you haha… I was just cleaning my violin… don't mind me… I wasn't doing anything important.”

Mika was stuck frozen in place for a couple moments before awkwardly nodding and making his way to the back corner while Redwell hurriedly resumed what he was doing, probably eager to get away from him as fast as possible.

Lightly brushing his fingers over the tops of the keys as he approached was enough to make his heart catch in his throat. Ever since he and Clair had left Russia, they hadn’t owned a piano of their own. As if handling a baby bird, he pulled the bench away with his foot and sat down, cautiously hovering his fingers over the keys.

“I didn’t know you were a musician.” Mika jumped, noticing Redwell suddenly right behind him, leaning over his shoulder. 

“I’m no musician.” Mika mumbled bashfully. “…I’m not very good. I haven’t been able to practice since I was a child.”

He watched as Redwell’s expression became something unreadable. “May I hear you play?”

Mika felt anxiety creep against his lungs. “What should I play?”

“Anything.”

Staring at the keys in front of him, dread tugged at his throat when he couldn’t quite bring himself to begin. His breath hitched and his eyes went wide when he felt warm breath tickling his cheek and felt a pale pair of hands guide his own towards the piano, gently moving each one of them into position.

“There, right thumb on middle C and the rest of your fingers follow.” Redwell mumbled softly into Mika’s ear. Mika turned to face him wide-eyed, more surprised than anything at his confidence. Upon meeting his eyes, Redwell squeaked and shot back, deflating almost immediately. “Oh my god i’m so sorry you just looked so lost and I also used to play piano as a kid, well I tried a couple different instruments before landing on violin, i don’t mean to insult you or your capabilities as a musician.”

Mika let out a quiet chuckle and just turned back to face the instrument, not taking his hands off the keys and ruining the help he had received. Reluctantly, he muttered out a quiet “…Thanks.”

Nervously, he let his fingers down to play the first note, struggling to recall the exact order and speed he was meant to play at. His movements were shaky and weren’t smooth at all, and every time he lifted his fingers up he forgot where he was and had to pause to count which key was the one he needed. Upon finishing, Mika let out a sigh of relief he had been holding for the whole song. He was obviously a beginner, and it made his face burn in shame to know that someone had been there to bear witness to his shoddy skills.

Redwell let out a content exhale from his nose. Mika winced. “…Well, we all start somewhere.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

Redwell shook his head, seemingly lost in thought. “No, the basics are all there. I just don’t think you have the experience to apply them. I think you just need a lot of practice.”

Mika swallowed, embarrassment eating him alive. In an effort to save whatever pride he hadn’t laid bare for Redwell to see, he hastily got up for the door. “Whatever.”

“I… I could teach you if you’d like!” He called after him. Mika paused for a moment, before speeding off twice as fast. He just wanted to be far away.

When he got home, he silently prayed that by tomorrow Redwell would have forgotten anything had ever happened. 

The next day, he pushed his evening trip to the music department out even later in hopes to avoid Redwell, but to his dismay there he was when Mika tried the door. 

Mika watched as he took a deep breath, straightening

his posture to speak. “I-I know you said you didn’t want help, and Katie said to leave you be anyways, but I, um, I made sure the door wouldn’t be locked tonight. Y’know. …So you can practice.”

Mika blinked at him, unable to conjure any words to say as he slunk off past him. What was his angle? Was Redwell starting some elaborate revenge plot to get back at Mika for the months he had spent tormenting him? But to his surprise, the door remained unlocked every evening from that point onwards. 

As days stretched into weeks, Mika never heard anything from anyone about his evenings playing piano. Redwell must not have told anyone. It struck him as weird, since it would have been the perfect embarrassing secret. He was aware that he was laughably bad. But no, Redwell didn’t seem to be the type to do that to him. To do to Mika what he had done to him for almost a year. 

Dear lord Mika was a horrible person.