I finished Phonopolis today, so here comes a little fanfic. It's my first fanfiction written in English (not translated, my native language is Ukrainian) so don't be rude about my grammar.
Post-canon, Felix/Rachel (one-sided). I don't know if it's a ship, it's not romance, it's more like admirer/muse situation
Felix will remember this forever: the solemn silence that fell after the Leader's loudspeakers went off. Uncertain but happy smiles on his compatriots’ faces. And… That woman, Rachel - gently touching his hand.
He knows this day will be in history books; he will probably be in history books! - but at that moment there's nothing more important than her hand in his trembling palm.
Everything goes so quickly after that one moment: people laughing, congratulating each other, organising, throwing away the rubble and the symbols of the fallen regime, some groups storming cantines to throw parties: he feels a bit lost in all this mess. He got rid of the headphones before, but now thinks he could use a little silence… Where should he go now? Felix dreamt to leave the town one day, so why not now? Maybe after a couple of beers with his old neighbours, if he could find them… No. That was a lie. He doesn't want to see them now, the only thing on his mind is…
– Mr Felix!
A melodic voice reaches him through the sound of blusterous new life: it's Rachel. The old guys are standing around her.
– It seems you have nowhere to go, mr Felix, - says Durgyef, - Don't you want to celebrate our victory with us? I think you absolutely deserve it!
He's uncertain, but Rachel's little smile convinces him immediately.
They gathered in her old little apartment in the women's house. At first Rachel is so terribly upset about her piano has been destroyed by the policemen she almost starts crying.
– Oh, don't worry, dear, - says Bafov, - Did you really believe we let them destroy everything?
Then he disappears in a tiny room, and after a while comes back with some instruments, some with strings, some with sticks – Felix doesn't even know their names – and an old looking bottle and five fancy glasses.
An expression of relief appears on her face:
– Thank you, friends… I knew I could rely on you three.
While old glasses are being filled and old stories told, Felix looks at her. She looks older than on those paintings he saw – because of course, how long has she been trapped by the Leader? How much has she endured? But still so pretty… But it's not just physical beauty that captivates him: it's something about her noble stance, and a delicate gesture of her hand when she touches the strings (that instrument is called a mandolin, he learns), and shining thoughtfulness in her deep dark eyes. He never met a woman like this before, and probably never will. This evening feels like a revelation.
After a couple of drinks the atmosphere in the room gets warmer, friendlier. Murunef cracks a musical joke Felix doesn't understand, but laughs with everyone. And then notices that good cognac gave Rachel's cheeks a pinker tint and even more shine in her eyes. Oh, good heavens. Now he sees her not just like an ethereal voice from a dream, or an old painting on the wall, or damsel in distress, or a political prisoner – he sees a warm, living human woman. Older and much smarter than him, but fragile, like all them humans. So fragile and still so full of life…
Fortunately nobody sees him blushing at his thoughts: the old guys are asking Rachel to sing, and starting a quarrel about the repertoire.
– Oh, for heaven's sake! - she interrupts them, - Can you PLEASE stop this at least just for today? I think it's my turn to choose the music. And I'm not in the mood to sing today. Let's play something! Does anybody have notes for “Pink Carnation Maze”?
Of course, Bafov has it. Rachel puts on cute little glasses to read them, and then smiles: “Oh, that'll do”
– Do you want to join us, mr Felix? - she turns her head to his blushing face.
– Oh, I… I'm sorry, I don't really play anything… Or sing…
– It's okay. Then listen. Every music needs a good listener.
And then they start playing.
And then he closes his eyes.
It sounds like nothing he heard before (will those surprises stop today? Probably not): it's not even opera. It's something more light, energetic, joyful, and filled with such intricate transitions that Felix feels put on a rollercoaster. At some point he notices he started dancing? As the music progresses, it gets even more intense, more and more sounds add to the symphony until he feels something undescribable. It's like his soul got bigger than his body, bigger than this room, bigger than this town. How do those people do that? How does she do that? Tears are coming to his eyes and he's not ashamed at all.
When the melody stops, he wipes his eyes with his long sleeves and smiles. The musicians smile back. A long silence comes, as words are useless now.
After a while, when Bafov goes to get another bottle, Felix breaks the silence.
– What was it? It didn't sound like the music of the old times…
– Oh, mr Felix!, - Durgyef laughs, - Our culture has so much more than operas!
Rachel leans to his face (too close!) and smiles:
– I almost envy you, because you're about to discover it all for the first time…
That solves it all. That's what he will do from now. And he's so, so thrilled to begin.
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