PROMO: Compositions

[Guest Listen2Reason]

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Mak Francis leaned back and brought the shot glass to his lips...gulping with a quick motion. He exhaled as the fiery liquid made its way down his throat, then looked around.

 

The bar was quiet. Most of the patrons had left; only a few stragglers sat quietly at tables. The Amazin' One and his beautiful young Ms. Right (or at least Ms. Right Now) were the sole inhabitants of the dance floor, interested more in each other than the soft, throbbing beats. Y2K was continuing to work his way through a phalanx of drinks decorated with umbrellas and small bits of fruit. The Franchise vaguely wondered why Y2K was still wearing his mask...and how he managed to drink so determinedly with it on. The bartender, meanwhile, was staring off into space, thoughts of closing time floating through his empty head.

 

And then an eerie strain of music cut through the noise.

 

Mak felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He turned around to see, in the corner, a dusty white piano. The final member of the sWo sat at the bench, studying the keys. Mak stared for a moment, then set his glass down on the table and rose from his seat.

 

Fugue smiled at the larger man as Mak came over. Mak nodded to the piano. "Can you play anything else?"

 

"Of course. Sorry, it's just kinda my song, right? I couldn't resist." Fugue began a soft, melodic piece. The notes looped around and around, moving gently in a hypnotic cycle.

 

"Sounds familiar," the Franchise noted, leaning on the piano.

 

"Moonlight Sonata," Fugue replied. "Beethoven. Beethoven's an interesting guy. He had so many moods--a sonata for every occasion." Fugue's hands danced over the keys, the notes now sounding mischievous and whimsical. Mak stared at the pianist as his long fingers moved to yet another pattern--an inspiring theme Francis knew he'd heard before, teased out with a light, soft touch. "Extraordinarily famous, deservedly so," Fugue commented. "The Ninth Symphony--'Ode to Joy'. And of course--" Sudden chords boomed from the instrument as Fugue's arms exploded in motion. He laughed and lifted his fingers from his keys as Mak jumped. "The Fifth. Dah na na NAAAAAH..."

 

Mak shook his head. "Fu--Tony. Uh..." He looked at his partner, suddenly unable to form the words in his mind.

 

Fugue rubbed his chin as he peered up at his compatriot. "Something on your mind, Mr. Francis?"

 

"It's just--" Mak sighed. "The music, okay? I don't mean to pry, but--why is it always music, with you?" He laughed shortly. "Sorry, I couldn't resist asking."

 

Fugue was silent, looking up at him. Mak resisted the urge to look away. Finally Fugue sighed, then gazed down at the piano keys. "It...makes things easier."

 

Mak stared down at Fugue. He--wasn't smiling? "Easier?"

 

"Yeah. Just, things..." Fugue looked away. Then he turned back and met the Franchise's eyes again. His smile was back, quiet and mischievous. "You know, you and I are similar, though in opposite ways."

 

Mak folded his arms on the piano, considering the expression he'd just glimpsed on Fugue's face. "So what does that mean?"

 

"I don't have much--formal training, you see." Fugue began to pick out a simple theme with one hand--a piece that immediately made Mak think of kids sitting through pinao lessons. "Wrestling training, I mean. Not that anyone does, really, compared to you," Mak shared his grin, "but Mike's been around so long, and Y2K did that stunt thing..." Fugue shrugged. "Not like me."

 

"Yeah, but I've seen you in the ring," Mak protested. "I've seen you take people down. I've seen them yelling when you--"

 

"Oh, yeah. No question of that," Fugue asserted, nodding. "Nothing like voices singing in Harmony. But the point is...the POINT," another banging minor chord, "is that I know how to survive. That's what I do--that what I've ALWAYS done." Mak felt a chill run down his spine as Fugue's grin stretched across his face. "That's where I'm strong--and that's where YOU'RE weak."

 

Mak straightened up. "Weak? What?"

 

"That cage match."

 

"Hey, I didn't lose--"

 

"You also didn't win." Mak shifted his weight a little as Fugue's eyes bored into him. "I got the door open, I was distracting CIA, I gave you every chance--"

 

"But it was MY match," the Franchise snapped back. "I was the one busting my ass to put that maniac down! And I did what I set out to do--I got the shot at the title!"

 

The two men locked gazes for a moment...then Fugue looked away. "I know," he said. Suddenly his smile was--just a smile. "I know. I'm not trying to put you down, really--I just know that you COULD have won the match." He pointed to himself, then the Franchise. "If you knew what I know--you would be unstoppable."

 

Mak forced himself to breathe regularly...studying Fugue's face, digesting his words. He found himself thinking about what the man had gone through--how the Tony he'd just gotten to know had become the maniacal Fugue. What had happened to make him retreat into music and pain...

 

If he really was retreating...

 

"Maybe," Francis replied finally. "But that's why we're together, right? All of us. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts."

 

Fugue nodded. "We're like N'Sync," he added.

 

Mak smiled uncertainly. "Uh...we are?"

 

"Yeah. Five-part Harmony." Fugue laughed as he picked out a version of 'Bye Bye Bye'.

 

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[Guest Ironman]

w00t you crazy music man.

[Guest crusen86]

Interesting stable interaction ness... Though it's a shame to see nobody being bashed up though. Surely you coulda roughed up random people?

[Guest Edwin MacPhisto]

Next time, someone needs to get powerbombed through a harpsichord.

 

Very interesting though--I like the idea of some tensions within the stable without necessarily leading to an immediate break-up. Makes for interesting bedfellows. Err, ringfellows.