Amrin wasn't the kind of person you'd expect to get involved with music.
She came from a well-off family and had a comfortable childhood; her parents were businessmen, as were many of her relatives.
As long as she leaned on her family roots, she could live without worrying about tomorrow.
Her life was like a game of chess whose pieces had already been set, and she just followed the playbook prescribed by those who came before her.
At least, that was true until she met music.
She could remember it as if it were yesterday: in the middle of a shopping mall stood a strange woman with tattoos covering her body and long red hair.
Her clothes had a gothic flair, and she carried an electric guitar.
Behind her stood other women with equally exotic appearances. They had an aura unlike anyone else around them.
When they began to play, it felt as though the whole world had stopped to listen. At least, that's how Amrin felt.
People passed by without paying much attention, but her eyes lingered on the redhead singing in the center of the stage.
Her voice was aggressive and emotional, just like the red of her hair. She had barely sung a single note, yet the moment she opened her mouth, the atmosphere seemed defined by her tone.
It was exotic, intimidating, and enchanting. With just one note, Amrin became a fan.
When she glanced at her father's face, all she noticed was his slightly disapproving expression.
"What kind of crap are they singing in the middle of a mall?"
The words fell harshly from his lips, his eyes fixed not on the voice or performance but on the tattoos and outfits they wore.
Her father was a cold man who always seemed to know everything. But for the first time, he looked blind and foolish in her eyes.
To her, those women shone brighter than anything she had ever seen.
That's why, after the first song ended, she approached the vocalist, so mesmerized that she didn't even notice she had let go of her father's hand.
Up close, the woman seemed even more unreal. Amrin had come to ask for an autograph, but the words she wanted to say slipped away.
"You're beautiful… How can I be like you?"
Her honest thoughts spilled out before she could stop them.
Laughter erupted from the other band members as the vocalist's face flushed as red as her hair.
Silencing them with a glance, the woman turned back to Amrin and crouched down in front of her.
"All a good vocalist needs is a passion for music."
Her hand gently stroked Amrin's hair as a smile bloomed across her face like a rose opening its petals.
Then she took the crystal necklace from around her neck and placed it in Amrin's hands.
"A while ago, I asked the same question as you," she said, her voice touched with memory. "I came from a family of ordinary workers with a strict outlook on life, but music found me. And just as someone once said these words to me, I'll say the same to you."
Her hands closed around Amrin's small ones, enclosing the necklace.
"This gem is your potential. As long as you don't let go of it, music won't let go of you either."
Her words felt as though they were being etched directly into her soul.
Amrin clutched the necklace as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
The lead singer simply smiled and walked away with her group, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. For her, it was just a moment. But for Amrin, those words would change her life forever.
*
Years passed, but Anrim held on to her dream. She was no longer the little girl she once was, but a grown woman of twenty-five.
Her parents had never approved of her musical endeavors. When she dyed her hair blue and formed a band, her father forced her to choose between the band with its uncertain future or the future of the family business.
Anrim answered that question with action. When she turned eighteen, she left home with only her clothes and a small budget. As her father had told her, she was on her own.
She never met her family again after that day, nor did she keep in contact with them.
The only things she had were her lifelong savings and an old crystal pendant she always carried with her.
It wasn't much, but to her, they were indispensable.
But after years of hardship, she had to admit something: living her "dream" had been impulsive and far more difficult than she had imagined.
She lived in her best friend's garage, surrounded by old instruments. Her money was running low, and her future looked bleak.
The other band members no longer seemed as passionate about music as they once were; she feared she was the only one still chasing the dream.
She learned to play almost every instrument she could find, but composing music was always a difficult task.
Every song she tried to compose turned out poorly. She could master any instrument, but composition simply wasn't one of her talents.
Because of that, the band could barely perform or participate in competitions; they didn't have a single original album, not even one song.
These circumstances, combined with her financial struggles, led her to become a librarian.
She concluded that the job would give her time to study music composition and, at the same time, support herself with the little money she would earn in the process.
After all, she didn't want to live in a dusty garage forever.
Her good looks made the interview process easy. The bookstore owner was leaving for a while with his family and needed someone to manage the business in his absence.
She didn't know how long the job would last. If she were lucky, the owner might keep her on. If not, she would be dismissed as soon as he returned.
And she never thought she'd have much luck keeping that job for long, nor was she interested in being a librarian for long. Her goal was still music.
When customers arrived at the door, she gave them only the bare minimum of attention. Just a good morning or good afternoon here and there, with a less-than-welcoming expression.
In her defense, it wasn't entirely on purpose. It was just a bad habit. Whenever she focused deeply on something, she paid little attention to the world around her and often grew irritated when interrupted.
Because of this, people unconsciously avoided her. An aggressive expression seemed permanently fixed on her face.
And the reason was simple.
She was surrounded by books on composition, sound waves, and anything remotely related to music. She read almost everything she could find.
All to uncover the mysterious craft of songwriting.
But whenever she tried to come up with even a simple title, this was the result:
[Working 8 hours a day, am I an idiot?]
[If you're poor, study.]
[The stock market isn't a damn casino.]
[Love is an invention of capitalism.]
[I hate my life.]
A list of titles that reflected her own frustrations more than anything suitable for a song.
The first captured her feelings about her job. She was only working for money, and the bookstore had nothing to do with her dream.
It was ironic that she came from a family of businesspeople but lived worse than many poor families.
The second was her present reality. She was poor, studying to escape her circumstances.
The third, "The stock market isn't a damn casino," came from a past mistake—she had invested everything in a booming stock, only to lose it all.
She even doubted the existence of love when she looked at her empty wallet, once considering ending her life out of despair.
"Tok. Tok."
And in the middle of this chaos, a strange knock came from the counter. Anrim felt her frayed nerves snap at the sound.
"I'm busy right now..."
She muttered, trying to contain her anger as she turned back to her paper. She needed complete focus to write a song; she didn't have time for customers.
But contrary to her expectations, an even louder noise erupted.
"Tok! Tok!!"
The sound was so sharp it seemed to echo through the entire bookstore. Her thoughts finally reached their breaking point.
She shot up from the counter, frustration burning in her eyes.
"Are you deaf or what? Can't you see I'm busy?!"
But to her shock, there was no one in front of her. Only emptiness. Then she looked down and froze.
A pair of lifeless emerald-green eyes stared back at her.
It was a girl in a wheelchair, holding a large book. Her other hand was red from banging it against the counter to get attention.
Anrim's mind went blank in shock.
The girl, unfazed by her outburst, silently placed the book on the counter, then pulled out a notebook and wrote in elegant handwriting:
[I want to buy a book.]
The gesture was simple, yet clear. Anyone could see the situation.
She was a mute child, unable to walk, and, judging by her calmness, likely deaf as well.
The girl pointed at the words in the paper with frail fingers. Looking at it, another wave of shock washed over Anrim.
Behind her, the girl's sister glared with disgust, joined by the stares of several other customers.
With a single shout, Anrim had not only ruined what little reputation she had but also committed an act she herself found unforgivable.
'What did I just do?'
For a moment, her entire world seemed to crumble, along with the uncertain future of her job.
Her bleak future flashed before her eyes.
She imagined the looks of contempt that would follow her throughout her life for yelling at a disabled girl in public and the consequences of those actions.
But before she could dwell on such pessimistic images, another noise resounded in her ear, waking her from her previous shock.
The girl with a face of few words tapped her book while looking towards her face, but still avoiding direct eye contact.
Amrin immediately felt her face red with embarrassment as she noticed the scene she had just made and quickly tried to fix the situation.
"Oh... Uhm... Sorry about that."
Her words were low like a mosquito, quite different from her fierce, unfiltered tone from before.
She was ready to hear harsh words from the girl and her sister in front of her and accept whatever fate had in store for her.
Unfortunately, the girl's next question was too shocking to make her simply accept her bleak future.
[Did you say something before?]
What she heard wasn't harsh words or anything like that, but pure incomprehension. The girl's face was blank and innocent, as if she truly had no idea what had happened.
That expression made Amrin's life even more difficult, as she felt the weight of her actions deeply, despite the little girl's ignorance.
As for taking advantage of this situation, as Asha had previously imagined, such thoughts didn't even cross Amrin's mind for a second.
The only thing she felt was an immense sense of guilt for her actions.
She immediately tried to apologize again properly, but the girl's hands were faster.
[You're tall.]
[I can't read your lips.]
Every word she spoke, as if she had no idea of the situation she was in, only made her heart sink even deeper.
The girl said that she was too tall, and her lips were difficult to see. This was a confirmation of her deafness and also of the innocence of the child in front of her, who had no idea of the malicious behavior she had provoked.
She also seemed oblivious to the stares around her, or even how her sister perceived the situation.
Even being deaf, this wasn't enough to explain her unawareness; was she perhaps... an autist?
Anrim had heard that autist children often had trouble reading the environment, and that was likely the girl's case.
The fact that the girl was potentially autistic carried an even greater weight than the fact that she was merely physically disabled.
She had publicly called out a girl with both physical and mental disabilities. She felt that the more she thought about it, the worse her sins became.
'I'm a piece of shit.'
The most frustrating thing was that Amrin was internally relieved that she hadn't hurt the girl directly, but that irresponsible thought only caused a boiling irritation within her, making her tightly clench her fists.
"Sorry... I said something really bad about you."
Even though it was difficult, she didn't want to take advantage of the innocent little girl's condition. She would confess her crimes here and now; losing her job seemed like too little for what she had done.
But the girl just looked at her lips and then wrote again in her notebook.
[I don't care.]
Her expression was still blank as ever. She showed no anger or embarrassment; she simply accepted it as if it were natural.
There were only two possibilities for why the girl would act this way.
The first was that she was actually just a kind girl and didn't want to worry her.
The second was that she was actually accustomed to this kind of situation enough to show minimal turmoil about it.
The first would just be painful, but the second was heartbreaking because Amrin would have purposely put herself in a position of perpetrator, like many likely did to the little girl in front of her.
The girl patted the book again, trying to get her attention. This natural, relaxed posture was so painful that Anrim felt her eyes water.
"I'm a really bad person, I'm sorry."
Her lips trembled, and before she knew it, she was apologizing again, feeling short of breath and her heartbeat quickening.
[It's fine.]
But no matter what she said, the girl would just accept it as if it were nothing.
Perhaps even she herself didn't notice how abnormal her behavior was, and this fact was like a sharp needle in her heart.
"I didn't want to yell at you; that was an accident."
[The book...]
She started to write something, but Amrin couldn't even see the words in the notebook anymore because of the tears that blurred her vision.
"Sorry for calling you deaf without knowing your circumstances; that was so impolite of me."
All she wanted was to jump off the top of a hill and never show her face in front of anyone again.
"I'm sorry..."
She apologized over and over like a sinner begging for mercy. But no apology seemed enough. She knew her emotions were out of control, but the last thing she cared about right now was herself.
[You said nothing wrong. I'm indeed deaf.]
[I just want to buy a book. Please, sell me the book.]
[That's your job.]
The girl's words came from her small notebook, perhaps in an attempt to console her and move on.
She genuinely didn't even seem able to understand she was insulted, taking her words literally.
This clearly showed signs of her autism and sank the needle even deeper into her heart.
But what completely destroyed her emotions were her last words.
[I want to go home.]
The girl clutched the book in a clear sign of discomfort, as if she didn't want to extend this conversation too far.
Amrin believed the girl was being 100% honest in her conversation. But it was this lack of understanding of the circumstances that made the situation even more disconcerting.
"I'm so sorry..."
Tears fell like an avalanche from her eyes, her face distorted by the various emotions coursing through her chest.
If she went out into the street, she would make sure she vanished from sight with her own hands. The tears were so strong that she didn't even dare look the girl in the eye anymore.
She hadn't cried once, even when she'd been kicked out of the house, but here she was, in tears.
It was the first time she'd felt this way in her entire life, and she had no idea where to vent her feelings, so she focused all that guilt on apologizing, even though she'd apologized so much it seemed excessive.
Because she felt that unless she did, she might actually break mentally.
The only thing that kept her from completely sinking into guilt was the girl herself, who discreetly pulled up her sleeves in a gesture to get closer.
Anrim didn't quite understand what she wanted, but because she wanted to, she bent down enough so that the girl's eyes were level with hers.
The girl placed both hands on Anrim's face; her hands were soft and small, as expected of a girl her age, and those hands were now stained with her tears.
Anrim looked at the little girl with trembling eyes; her lips seemed to be moving to form a word. She was clearly mute, but she tried to communicate this way.
[Enough]
It was a simple word for her to contain her actions; this might seem a little out of place, but looking objectively, her actions made sense.
Anrim was clearly out of herself; it was so clear that even a disabled child like her could point it out.
She needed to pull herself together. The girl was probably the most confused in this situation; she didn't want to make things even worse.
"I will make it up to you. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Hearing her words, the girl handed her a book.
When she opened it, there was a page about sound waves marked on it; the girl was probably interested in that. The only problem was that this book had very superficial research.
And considering the bookmark was on that specific page, it was very likely that this was the only topic that interested her.
"I see. So you're looking for information about sound waves."
But besides the problem of being a shallow book, it also had another essential problem.
"This book isn't part of the sales section, but you can rent it. Unfortunately, there's already an appointment for the day after tomorrow, so if you rent it today, you'll have to return it tomorrow."
The library she worked at was both a bookstore and a library, divided into small sections. And the book in question wasn't for sale, only for rent.
The girl who already seemed to be lacking much energy seemed to deflate even more at this information before looking at her sister behind her.
"I guess I forgot to check that. Sorry..." she apologized with an anxious gaze, clearly troubled by the many stares placed at her. "B-But there are other similar books, though not as complete as this one."
Watching the two peculiar pairs of children looking at each other, Amrin wasted no time before taking action.
"There's no need for that."
She rummaged through the books she'd been reading before and picked out one in particular that she'd filled with notes. Considering her composition skills hadn't improved even after that, it wouldn't make much of a difference whether she handed the girl over or not.
As soon as the book came into view, the girl couldn't take her eyes off it.
"I was studying this because I needed to compose some songs for my band. You won't find anything more in-depth than this."
This particular book was something she had purchased online after some research, as the books in this library were too general for her to study in depth.
The girl opened the book and carefully scanned it to the last page before hugging it with some excitement. Anrim felt a small smile form on her face as she looked at it.
She then took an MP3 player and some headphones out of her pocket. She didn't know why she wanted a book about sound waves when she was deaf, but she didn't ask any other questions.
"I recorded all the sounds from the book here. You can also find them online; the link is on the last page."
There wasn't much she could do beyond that. All she had done was compensate her with a book, but ultimately, the girl could find other similar books if she searched or bought them directly online.
She felt she had repaid very little considering all the damage she had caused.
"I'm sorry about before. It's not much, but I hope you'll accept it. I know it's a lot to ask, but if you come back, tell me which book you want and I'll get it for you."
Whether she would keep this job or not was ambiguous. She knew there were some people recording from a distance and that this situation could blow up, but if the girl returned, she would still like to be of service.
Blind to these thoughts, the girl simply nodded slowly and wrote something in her notebook.
[Thank you]
The girl's sister picked her up by the wheelchair and led her outside, but before she could completely move, her eyes locked with hers.
"Thank you."
She simply thanked her anyway and left. Her look didn't carry the same disgust as before, which showed that the girl had forgiven her to some extent.
Watching the two girls leave, she finally sat down in the chair, feeling as if she had just experienced the most climactic moment of her life.
She stared at the notebook of songs she had once composed, wiped her tearful eyes, and gently closed the pages filled with notes and scribbles.
Instinctively, she understood that she was getting nowhere and that her previous behavior was dangerous.
She would ensure that something like that never happened again.
Unfortunately, her future was quite uncertain, as was her music career.
If only someone could compose for her, everything might fall into place. Her band wasn't short on talent, yet none of them knew how to create a single song.
But where could she possibly find someone like that?
She watched the little girls from behind, lost in such thoughts.
Unaware that the "composer" she so desperately sought was closer than she imagined.
*
Author's note
Who could this composer be?! Unfortunately, it will still be a while before we know. If you liked the chapter, please consider commenting or donating your precious stones 🍪
Thank you so much for reading this❤️
*
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