Who: Juan and Mia When: Early morning 6th day Where: Juan's room (701)
It had been a day since Juan hung out with Landon and Catie in the kinda music room. That day had been very nice... filled with music and good times, but when Juan left and went back to his room it finally hit him. This... empty hotel room was all that was waiting for him now. All of his family was gone, his friends dead, and his life forever this... little empty hotel room. He barely left his room after that point; only searching out food when it was absolutely necessary. He cried for most of the 26th. Staring at the wall, out the heavily curtained window, looking at his violin, everything reminded him of his family and his loss... his new life was hell.
Juan opened his eyes on the 27th. He, of course, didn't know that or care really. It was just another morning in hell as far as he was concerned. What was he going to do? He was a 15 year old after the fall of man. He had no family to call his own and no real place in the world. Did he really expect these complete strangers to continue where his parents were cut off? Who was going to teach him what father's teach sons? Who was going to share with him the secrets only mother's can impart to their children? Juan swatted at his own head. He was sick of feeling like this. "The only thing I have left is my music... gotta hold onto that," he mumbled to himself as he rolled out of bed and pulled on a shirt. He walked across the room to his open case and picked put his beautiful friend.
He often thought of naming her--he also wasn't sure when he started calling her 'her'--but it didn't really seem right. She wasn't something that could be named... like... a force of nature (he didn't count hurricanes because those HAVE to be called something). He pulled the bow across the strings to test her pitch, but she was perfect. He had tuned her almost continuously the day before to elicit such a perfect sound from the strings. With that he quickly jumped into Bach's Chaconne. It was a piece he'd play often at parties when he felt he wasn't getting enough attention. Yea, he was kinda... rented out to rich people for performances. Most people sought him out as a nice "conversation piece" for their well-to-do get-togethers. When the 'novelty' of his playing wore off he often pulled out 'Chaconne' to bring tears to everyone's eyes. To show them not to doubt his prowess. It was a bit of showboating on his part, but he hated to be underestimated by... by people that weren't probably alive anymore. It didn't matter anymore... but he felt like crying now. With each draw of his bow across he strings he drew tears from his eyes. It was almost too much, but he played on.