V1 has to move several pews out of the way for its drum kit. The cymbals are dusty and the good drumsticks are nowhere to be found, and it spends way too much time recalling where it placed the snare. Gabriel watches from his perch, jumping when the snare drum rolls out of one of V1’s lower wings.
V2, unspooling an extension cord, makes an amused noise.
‘Remember to count your cymbals,’ she says.
‘Better than the time you electrocuted yourself with a male-to-male plug.’
‘Which I wouldn’t have needed to use at all if you’d warned me about the venue having only one electrical socket near the bathroom—’
She stops talking when Mirage shoves a sheet of paper into her hands. ‘Thanks,’ she says, synthesised voice softening ever so slightly.
Mirage catches their attention with a snap of her fingers. ‘Alright. Pay attention. V1, stop trying to sign that.’
‘I know I should probably have low expectations, especially after the… incident.’ She eyes the two other machines with as much venom as she can muster. ‘But I like to believe that life does have constant upward slopes sometimes, and that last practice session before we left home has only solidified that belief. We’ll do ten minutes of warmup, and then it’s into practice proper.’
V1 eyes the scores in its hand. It should have taken the Whiplash from V2, save it the trouble of having to borrow one of Mirage’s music stands. It does miss having a third arm.
Mirage turns to Gabriel. ‘And Gabriel, just do your best.’
Whether he hears it is debatable. He is holding his scores mere centimetres from his face. With his halo and wings gone, he looks like he is doubling over in pain.
‘Mirage,’ he says. ‘I may not be what you are looking for.’
‘That’s okay. Back out at any time,’ says Mirage, shooting V2 a look. ‘But what makes you say that?’
‘I don’t think—this type of music,’ he says, pointing to the score. ‘And the rest of your work as well. I do not think I can convey what it does.’
Mirage tilts her head. Behind her, V2 meets V1’s gaze, shrugging almost imperceptibly.
‘What I mean to say is,’ Gabriel continues, ‘I don’t think I understand your music.’
Mirage freezes in place, startled.
V1 spins its drumsticks around its fingers. V2 catches its attention, this time holding up her hands in an obvious, ‘what?’
Mirage straightens. ‘That’s an… interesting thing to say.’
‘I mean no offense,’ says Gabriel stiffly. ‘I’ve never heard anything like it. What music is—that is to say, what I think music should be—’
‘You don’t listen to music that much, do you?’
Gabriel’s wings flicker back into existence. ‘You—! What do you know about me?’
‘It’s right, though,’ says V2, and V1 ingrains this brief moment of agreement into its memory.
‘I’m not upset,’ says Mirage. ‘Just confused. I make the most generic shit on the planet—‘
‘You don’t,’ says V2. V1 nods emphatically. ‘I like it.’
Mirage looks away, focusing furiously on a stained glass window. ‘You flatter me.’
‘The m—V1 told me I sound angry when I play,’ says Gabriel. And V1 throws up its hands at that because that is not what it said.
‘That’s great,’ says Mirage, turning back to face them. ‘I can work with that. Come on, let’s play.’
‘Didn’t know you were a therapist on the side,’ V2 says to V1.
‘Psychologist, actually.’
The piece Mirage hands them is nothing they have not played before, albeit with some added organ parts. To his credit Gabriel does get most of the notes right, though he misses his cues most of the time until they are two bars in. Mirage does not turn on the keyboard, instead choosing to observe, resting her head on her hands. She has nothing to say about V1’s drums, which it takes as a good sign. It should request faster parts next time, give it a real challenge.
She stops them before the second chorus.
‘Alright, I think I get the gist,’ she says, looking at Gabriel. ‘You’re good. Really good. But—‘
The door to the church slams open. All three machines turn to look immediately, but Gabriel remains determinedly staring forward, facing the keys.
In strides a robed figure, their armour gleaming gold as they pass by the windows. Another archangel, V1 notes, their wings and halo folding into nothingness.
The new archangel does not look at the machines. ‘Gabriel,’ he calls out. ‘A word.’
‘Come on,’ Mirage mutters from behind V1, startling it. ‘Let’s go.’
V2 is already halfway out the door, extension cables trailing from her arms, looking back anxiously at the other two. V1 packs up the drums and follows, fully aware of the silence suspended between the two angels, the faint contempt of the stranger.
Mirage closes the door behind them.
‘Should we wait for him?’ V2 asks. She seems uncharacteristically rattled.
‘That’s assuming they’ll wrap it up in under an hour,’ says Mirage. ‘We’ll stay for twenty. And then we’ll see.’
‘Shit,’ signs V1.
The other two watch as it pats itself up and down, reaching behind to check its wings.
‘Left my phone in there.’
Mirage sighs. ‘Get ready for a long wait, then.’
She fiddles with the loose thread on her jacket. ‘This angel—Gabriel—there’s something off about him.’
‘In what way?’
‘He’s taking Theology,’ signs V1. ‘As an archangel. I think that sums it up.’
Mirage goes silent, deep in thought.
‘Why is he here, of all places? Leading a weekly sermon that barely anyone attends? And the stranger—I don’t think they’re friendly.’
‘Speaking of which,’ says V2, piling the extension cables into her wings, ‘What is his problem with V1? He’s not that vitriolic with me, or Mirage.’
‘Ran him over in my car.’ And pissed him off after a Theology lecture. And implied that he has daddy issues. But V2 doesn’t need to know that.
‘Yeah, that’s fair,’ says V2.
The twenty minutes come and go. Mirage checks her watch, checks her schedule, and shrugs. ‘I’ve got work to finish,’ she says. ‘See you around.’
‘I’ll drop you off,’ says V2.
Hand in hand, the two of them leave V1 to lean on the walls of a church. Nothing to do here, not even a lone Virtue to annoy. It flexes its ankles, wondering if it should start running laps around the building.
The doors of the church open violently once more just as V1 makes up its mind. The stranger storms out, robes flowing, before disappearing in a flash of golden light.
V1 steps back into the church. Gabriel is sitting in the nearest pew, a hand over his face, chest heaving as if he’d been running a marathon. He catches sight of V1 and shoots it a look.
‘Yes?’ he snaps.
‘Forgot my phone.’
‘Get it and leave, then.’
It heads towards the pews in the middle, near where it had set up its drum kit. The phone lies on the floor, screen slightly cracked from being dropped.
V1 leans down to pick it up.
Out of Gabriel’s line of sight, it hits the ‘stop recording’ button on the screen.
~~~
‘Was one failure not enough for you, Gabriel?’
‘Councillor, I am amending my mistake.’
‘You are avoiding us, that is what you are doing. You are turning away from God’s will.’
‘God’s will brings me here.’
‘We speak on the Father’s behalf. Not you.’
‘… Please, Councillor. I only need until the end of this semester.’
‘These things are beyond saving.’
‘I can guarantee the salvation of one soul here. His faith holds strong.’
‘Tch. If you had kept your faith then, you would be returning home now. There is order to be maintained.
‘…’
‘You have until the end of next month to decide. Turn traitor, or come home with me.’
‘…Yes, Councillor.’
~~~
V1 hits the pause button.
Gripping the back of Mirage’s chair, V2 looks down at her girlfriend. Mirage snaps shut the book she wasn’t even reading anyway.
‘He’s—‘
‘In a cult,’ V2 concludes.
‘It makes sense now,’ says Mirage. In the limited space of her dorm room, she can only pace between the bed (which V1 is sitting on) and the chair. ‘I mean, who’s never heard rock? In this day and age?’
‘I don’t think he even has a phone,’ says V1. ‘Writes down his notes by hand in class.’
‘Why are you taking Theology, V1?’ V2 seats herself in Mirage’s abandoned chair as the girl continues to pace.
‘Thought it’d be fun.’
‘No offence, but if I had to think about God and existence next to engineering and…’ She lets out a soft hum, recalling— ‘Accounting. I think I’d actually go insane.’
‘Keeps me busy.’ Won’t have to think about anything else.
Mirage stops her pacing. ‘I may have to plan the band without him from now on,’ she mutters, loud enough for the other two to pick up. ‘I mean, he’s going to leave by the end of next month. Is he?’
V2 shoots V1 a look. ‘Could you… maybe delay that?’
‘He does what he wants.’ It shrugs and picks up its phone, opening a random social media app to scroll through. ‘Worst group project partner ever.’
‘Who in their right mind assigned the two of you to work together?’
‘Blame the random number generator.’ V1 lies down on the bed, metal frame sinking into the mattress. Mirage coughs subtly but it ignores her. ‘I don’t think anyone else could handle working with him. Starts from a conclusion and works backwards.’
Mirage coughs again. This time V1 is forced to stand up as she takes its place, propping her head up on her hands to listen intently.
‘Wish they’d let us do something easier before diving right into the morality of God.’
‘I can’t help with that,’ says V2, sounding way too happy about it. V1 gives her a thumbs down and she laughs in that dreadful synthesiser voice of hers.
Mirage, finally free from her reverie, catches V1’s attention.
‘Look, I don’t expect you to change his mind,’ she says slowly, as if still chewing on each individual word. ‘But if you could show him how close he is to freedom, then maybe he’ll want to stay.’
‘Wow. Is he that good of an organist?’
Mirage turns to face it, her single lens glowing faintly.
‘I know what it’s like to be in love with the cage you are trapped in,’ she says. V1 has forgotten the full range of emotion she can display with her voice alone, custom synthesiser tuned to her mind. ‘It’s hurting you and you know it but it’s all you’ve ever known. And so you tell yourself you love it.’
‘You don’t have to save him. You can’t. But just make sure he doesn’t start ghosting us, alright?’
‘It’d be easier if he didn’t hate my guts.’
‘Better hatred than apathy,’ says Mirage, picking up her book again.
V1 hesitates before signing, ‘I’ll try.’
quit my job because it reignited the kms urge rejoice!!! now let's just hope i can get enough commissions because i do love money and MIDI controllers cost a lot
come find me on Tumblr at hubris-moment!