The Annals of Fear

It wasn\'t that Matt was oblivious to Mello. He\'d glimpsed him on the monitors walking along the landing before Mello had even entered Matt\'s study. But Matt was trying to get his level. There was no music actually coming through his headset, because he\'d forgotten to set his player to repeat all, so the album had finished leaving him in silence. Matt couldn\'t leave the game long enough to sort it out, because his chara would soon be dead if he did things like that. Nevertheless, it must have seemed to Mello that the music was so loud that he had been able to stand right next to his husband for several seconds before he was noticed.



Matt flickered his eyes in brief acknowledgement, but Mello just placed a cup of tea beside him and added a packet of custard creams. Then he gestured that it was ok and backed out. Matt continued his boss fight, closer than he had ever reached before. The boss\'s hitpoints were almost drained and Matt still had a good supply of food and his special attack left. He fought on and three minutes later, the beast fell at his feet, scattering drops and bones. Matt let out a loud woot and called out, perhaps a little too loudly, "Thanks for the tea." He was half out of his seat, removing his headphones, to gush out his victory to Mello, but the sight, on one of the house camera screens, stilled him.



Mello was back in his study. He had his electric violin out and paper lined up along the length of this computer shelf. Zooming in, Matt would see music printed on them, but no title. He waited, creeping back into his seat and replacing his headphones, but the sound through them now was the audio feed from Mello\'s study. It wasn\'t that Matt cared too much for violin music, but watching Mello play could be better than most internet porn. Mello didn\'t so much drag stretched horsehair over stranded steel, as much as simulate sex. He made love to his instrument. At least the expression on his face during the crescendos was often the same as his orgasm face.



Mello glanced at his own monitor, where Matt would see himself ostentatiously staring at his game\'s hiscores. Out of the corner of his eye, Matt watched Mello reach across and start a programme on his computer. The backing track sounded through the speakers and, from the first harp\'s chords, Matt knew what it was. It was the \'Méditation\' from the opera Thaïs with full orchestral accompaniment. Matt cringed. This shouldn\'t be played on electric violin. It was for a classical instrument. It worried him even more that Mello felt the need to have the score on display. That meant that he didn\'t really know it. Matt watched, disappointed, as Mello didn\'t even try to perform. He just played the violin, stepping to the side as he reached the end of one page and needed to start the next. Matt\'s only solace was that Mello\'s violin wasn\'t plugged in and he was playing quite softly. Mello reached the three minute mark, then stopped the backing track and started again. Matt muttered, "Poco piu appasionato, Mello." Then switched to his own music player and wiped the traversy from his memory with some very loud Underworld.



It was therefore with some shock when, an hour or so later, the amplifer next door suddenly kicked in, competing with the steady beats in Matt\'s headphones. He paused his player and switched back to Mello\'s study. Now he was playing. After two false starts, Mello threw himself headlong into the piece. The quality was hardly Anne-Sophie Mutter, but the emotion invested into it bowled even her for six. When the score called for more passion, Mello\'s bow attacked like a chainsaw, his whole body lifted on tip-toe with the force of feeling. Mello\'s eyes were closed, but his expression held an intensity that raised the hairs on the back of Matt\'s neck. Matt was rapt. Mello was carrying him somewhere with this music that wasn\'t entirely comfortable. When the violin was supposed to rise in harmony with the rest of the heightened orchestra, Mello raged, like he had gone to war. Then he brought them back. But whereas Thaïs might have found her truths in the coda, Mello just stood there, frozen with his instrument and his frame quivering.



Matt half rose from his seat. A breath only now slowly being expelled, as his gaze didn\'t lift from his husband for a second. But then the bow came down, away from the violin and Mello\'s shoulders slumped. Matt wondered if Mello was about to cry. There seemed precisely that air of devastation about him. Matt raced through his door, across the landing and into study opposite. Mello\'s eyes opened, a smug smirk drifting lazily across his features. Matt stopped in his tracks, blinking. Mello kicked the amplifer off and the deep hum that had permeated the room dissipated. "You were listening."



"There were people fifty miles out to sea who were listening, Mell. You had it up awfully loudly." Matt countered. He was watching Mello carefully. "Was that you in diva mode or are you really upset?"



"I gave a good performance?"



"Bravo." Matt patted his jeans, but he had left his cigarettes in the other room. "You looked really moved by it."



Mello shrugged. "Who wouldn\'t be moved by \'Méditation\'? Do you know what it\'s about?"



Matt nodded. "Of course I do." His mind recalled the opera in rapid detail, finding the clues that Mello was scattering. "You chose to learn it for a reason?" Thaïs had been a beautiful woman, living a secular life, until she was persuaded to find God. The meditation in question was her soul-seeking, after coming to the conclusion that her beauty would fade and she would be left with nothing. She was living and dying in a nunnery by the end of the story. "Regretting turning your back on your religion?"



"I\'m taking the case."



"I know."



Mello stared at him. "It was not a foregone conclusion."



"I had it as a 5% chance that you would."



"It was not that high." Mello said, petulantly. "Will you work with me on it?"



Matt flashed a smile. "Inherent in the case is the necessity to walk around religious buildings without making excuses to yourself about why you\'re in there."



"If I wanted to go into a church, I would."



"You are identifying with Thaïs. You\'re wondering if you\'re living a too secular life."



Mello smirked. "Such a simplistic outlook."



"Only because you\'re now adding layers of complexity to ensure that you don\'t look shallow."



Mello\'s smirk faltered, then recovered. "You were turned on. You love watching me playing. It\'s like live porn to you."



Matt shook his head. "How you just played wasn\'t seductive. It was disturbing."



"Then you saw what I presented. You watched with your brain instead of your balls, as you normally would." Mello\'s eyes shone with triumph. "You witnessed me starting work on the case and you rose to detective alongside me."



"And now you\'re talking utter bollocks just to win."



Mello grinned. "Win what, Matt?"



"You know."



Mello laughed. "I\'ve already won. You stooped to insults at the end."



Matt was chewing on a loose bit of stitching on the index fingertip of his glove. He pulled it from between his teeth long enough to say, "That wasn\'t insult. It was observation."



"Bored now." Mello placed his violin back inside its case. "The music moved me because it was meant to. Some notes resonate with the mind to evoke emotion. Not just musical notes. Certain sounds can do it. Some sounds, at a certain pitch, can even cause hallucination. What\'s on that album, Mail?"



"You still haven\'t listened to it?" Matt asked, incredulous. "You\'ve had it for two days."



"It\'s evidently not affecting everyone or else we wouldn\'t be able to move for corpses. Why some and not others" Mello clasped shut his violin case. "We need to find out precisely what the hype is around it and who made the album."



Matt nodded. "Ok."



"Can I leave you with...?"



"I\'ll just forward you my file." Matt grinned as he left the room. "It\'s a Swedish band. Fronted by a bloke called Jörgen Åström. I\'ve already got his e-mail address. I\'ve been gathering shit for you since Hal called, because I know how impatient you\'d be once you decided to take it on."



Mello scowled. "Cocky fucker."



Matt poked his head back around the door. "I win. You stooped to insults at the end there." He ducked back as a bar of chocolate came crashing against the woodwork. "But good fight." He retired laughing to his study.