Nice to meet you

Place your elbows on the table and interlace your fingers.When he was about to draw swords and crossbows, he often used this posture, and Feng Ping also became serious.The orchestra even hated him a little bit.He wondered why Feng Ping couldn't give him something unexpected, why he couldn't write a composition without a central idea, wouldn't it be good to simply recount the past!Say something!He is naturally lacklustre, but Feng Ping's life is still very rich.However, a Feng Ping with such a rich life does not lack audiences.The moment before the confession was cold and tasteless.Time may take away the dust and leave only the bones of things; there is no buffer left between them.

"Don't listen to his nonsense." The orchestra said, and at the same time realized that this way of speaking was unfair to Zhang San. "I didn't write anything."

"Why don't you write?" Feng Ping said.

That's it.I have been asked by too many people, I have the right not to answer.The orchestra thinks the same.Relatives and friends, close friends and enemies, unknown creatures found somewhere, blessings and curses on postcards, this is really the first time Feng Ping asked.The orchestra twitched his lips and chose a rhetorical question that was better than nothing: "Why should I write?"

Feng Ping grabbed his chin and pulled his face up. Before Guan Xiantong could react, he threw him away like lightning.The latter action hurts self-esteem more than the former.

"Your eyes are red," Feng Ping said. "You don't want to go to work on time. No one is urging you or rushing you. Why can't you sleep for no reason?"

The orchestra is buzzing with half the head. "Are you all right? I've been on the order all night and hindered you!"

Feng Ping pursued and beat him fiercely. "Your ears are better than before, otherwise I would sit on your left with my head open. How do you know what I just said?"

The orchestra shook his head. "What did you say?"

"Don't be joking." Feng Ping said impatiently. "Orchestra, I know you look down on me. I think what I'm doing now is a mess. But I'm still writing, I can write, and I'm better than you! Don't think I'm just a whim. You've been in surgery until now How many years? Six years. I waited for you for one year and two years for you, and I haven’t forgotten a single word you said back then. It made me look like a fool!”

The orchestra members grabbed the edge of the table, trying to ease the atmosphere.Although this speech is better in momentum, he can still hear the depth and know where it is untenable, but he has not been serious with others for a long time. Once there is a sign of conflict, he always wants to retreat, maybe forever I can't get used to this situation. "Feng Ping, don't pity me. You have no such obligation. You don't owe me anything, San'er doesn't owe me, and no one owes me. I don't owe me either. I really can't write it. Think about it Jiang Lang."

Feng Ping was said to have crashed. "Cockroach? Who? Who the hell is this?!"

"The Jiang Lang who has exhausted his talents." The orchestra sighed. "From now on, I will obediently be a migrant worker. Don't believe me, it's useless to stare at me. You are still willing to investigate what's going on, and I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart. But that's all. It's a waste of time. If you have the time, it's better to find a few new seedlings. To put it bluntly, when we didn't break up, the circle of friends basically didn't repeat. Let alone now. You don't need to associate with people who are not worthy of you. ——But I’m talking too much, and we didn’t have much contact with each other in the first place.”

Feng Ping kept silent, knocked the half-burned cigarette into the ashtray, stared at the orchestra and the uneven nails of his left hand.

"You're the one talking. I said something."

Wang Lei got into the elevator, and the ground was messed up by muddy water.After the rain outside, at least there is still some aftertaste, but once you enter the corridor, it is purely stuffy.He held the umbrella in one hand and opened the door with the other.There was light in the crack of the door.Wang Lei bent down to change his slippers.

The strings and hair were stuck to his forehead, and he was drenched, and there was a circle of water around the sofa where he sat.Seeing him come back, he looked up and smiled.

"It's okay, I didn't bring an umbrella today." He said. "It's just a foot away from the subway exit. Let's take a break. It's not going to go outside."

Wang Lei shook his head, and walked steadily to the balcony to hang the umbrella.

"Down or down." He said.

He hesitated for a moment, and sat next to the orchestra. The water mark could be called a natural barrier, which made both of them very satisfied.But the orchestrator turned to him and asked, "Working overtime?"

"Gym."

The orchestra was very surprised: "You are really motivated."

Wang Lei: "No, the boss's relatives came to the company to sell fitness cards a few days ago, and everyone signed up for one."

Then he said: "I want to resign."

Orchestra: "Think about it, it's just a fitness card."

Wang Lei said, "It's not because of this."

Orchestra: "...that dare because of dreams."

Wang Lei: "You only have dreams if you make music. What dreams do we have?"

The orchestra smiled bleakly. "How did I offend you?"

"I read a novel a few days ago," Wang Lei said. "Writing the protagonist, he couldn't do anything since he was a child, he couldn't do anything, he couldn't study, he couldn't make friends, he couldn't fall in love. This is not over. After a long time, he began to enjoy this state. Once he failed, he felt a kind of difficulty in his heart." The pleasure of being named... This is really embarrassing. Later, I finally got a stable job and was fired. I have been doing something wrong lately, and I always feel that the boss has endured me too hard. I thought I might as well speak up first. , at least a little better than him."

The orchestra was also hinted by him, and he seemed to feel an indescribable pleasure in a trance, and it was very familiar, as if he was experiencing it every day, whether he was beaten by someone in a bar back then, and he had a fight with Feng Ping because of a lyric, and the recording ended with his voice falling Still can't get the demo on the stage, sitting in front of the guitar all night thinking that it can move it, thinking that it is painful, in fact, he is also enjoying the process unconsciously, enjoying this mess and still functioning as usual?"I think that's pretty much the case," he said.

Wang Lei said: "It's all like this, it's embarrassing."

Then he suddenly said: "Gu Xiantong. You really don't look good when you smile, why do you always laugh."

But the orchestra was not laughing.Wang Lei stretched out his hand and stopped less than half an inch in front of his eyes.Maybe it's because he doesn't want to see his eyes; the orchestra is still far from old, even the tired profile in the shadows is still touching, but when he smiles, there are too deep lines at the corners of his eyes.Wang Lei's palm was dark and damp, with the smell of rain and the cold umbrella handle, the bases of his fingers trembled slightly, and a dying light shone through the crevices of his fingers.Orchestral eyelashes swept gently over his knuckles.If he doesn't immediately realize what this means, these 30 years will be wasted.

Wang Lei took a step back to the side, his knee hit the corner of the coffee table, and he felt pain just listening to the sound of the orchestra.In the past, the orchestra was very envious of the expression management of this young roommate. He had a kind of courage that could not change his face when a mountain collapsed in front of him. Only at this moment, he suddenly understood the meaning of that calmness: it was a kind of complete resignation.Will not be slaughtered, but resigned to fate.Of course, even so, he was mostly feeling pity at this time.He stood up and said, "Good night."

The orchestra woke up at four o'clock in the morning.There was already a glimmer of light outside the window, as if it had rained again.What happened a few hours ago jumped into his mind, as if it had been lurking there, ready to go, and he was so angry that he could still sleep.But there is no shelf life for this matter, and after a few hours, it begins to be distorted; the confident mood at the time of the incident is not reliable at this time, and there is suspicion of being self-indulgent.He thought Wang Lei might just be joking.It's just an ordinary movement, maybe he really can't bear to laugh.Fortunately, he didn't give any aggressive response.He fell asleep again, drowsily trying to wake up and remember to call Zhang San. ...What are you doing on the phone?move out.He should have moved out long ago.

When he woke up again, he couldn't intuitively judge what time it was.The cloudy and bright sky may be any time from [-]:[-] am to [-]:[-] pm, maybe it will really cool down!The orchestra turned his head on the pillow, feeling the pain in his head.After arguing with Feng Ping last night, he didn't come back by his car for a while, what a mistake.Then the dispute with Feng Ping happened the day before, and he felt that five lifetimes had passed.He reached for the cell phone by his side and picked it up, but Wang Lei didn't contact him, which indirectly confirmed Chen Chen's explanation.The orchestra endured the increasingly hot pain and sent Wang Lei a WeChat message: Can you bring me an antipyretic when you come back.

Wang Lei was probably busy, so it took a few minutes before he replied: I have it in my room.In the second drawer of the bedside table.

A few more minutes passed: can you move?I'll be home in an hour.Go to the hospital if you have a severe fever.

The orchestrator did some mental training for a while, then rolled over and got out of bed top-heavy.The living room was also dim, and the piano case was leaning against the corner, with inexplicable malicious intentions.He pushed open the door of Wang Lei's room, there were few things in the room, there was a faint smell of smoke, the windows were wide open, and the orchestra even felt a little cold.He concentrated and opened the drawer that Wang Lei said.

The drawers are also neat.On the left side are commonly used medicines such as Banlangen and Zhengsafflower oil, and several medicine boxes are piled up.The orchestra pulls a CD from under them. The CD has a horrible cover.

That was his first album, even before he formed a group with Feng Ping, his own solo album was too rough to imagine, and a few songs were used by him as the skeleton later.He vaguely remembered that there was no public sale, and there might only be a few hundred copies in total.He carefully opened the box.The disc bears his signature.

It turned out to be like this, the orchestra thought with his almost burnt out brain, ah, it really is like this.I was loved by the world, a long-lasting delusion.I never doubted it before, because I am good, because I am beautiful.But I'm not well anymore!Besides, it's not beautiful anymore.Why do you even bother to help maintain this lingering illusion, or do you just not want to admit your disappointment?An orchestra who has abandoned music and has been abandoned by music, how much effort and energy do you have to spend in order to make up from him the claws and claws that made you surrender back then, as if there are occasional flashes of light on the veins of withered leaves? The former glory of ?

It took Wang Lei two hours to get home, and he couldn't calm down the anger caused by the traffic jam until he entered the door, because the orchestra did not reply to his message afterwards, for fear that his roommate would be unconscious on the ground when he entered the door.As a result, he found that the orchestra was sitting on the ground playing games in front of the TV, wrapped in a blanket.He walked over and touched the orchestra and forehead with the back of his hand, it was a little sticky, but not as hot as imagined.The orchestra cut him off before he could speak.

"You already know me."

Wang Lei didn't speak.Does he want to justify?What can he deny?And even if he didn't say it, the orchestra could fully understand, he carried the suitcase, came to the door, and said that we met for the first time.It was indeed the first time, but how could he let him know, as if handing the other party a sharp edge with the tip of a knife facing him?Passive resistance has consumed all his energy, and he can't do anything else.A person who is used to failure has only this chance to face such an unimpressable monster.Miracles didn't happen.The orchestra said, very sincerely——

"I'm very sorry."

"I didn't lie to you about one thing." Wang Lei said calmly, with the last courage of a defeated general. "I really don't listen to music much."

He slowly knelt down on one leg, embraced the orchestra's shoulders, and pressed against his hot forehead.The orchestrator didn't breathe or move, just imagined that warm, clean heart; the voice in his chest that had tortured him for several years became a melody for the first time.

End.