Chapter 3
Max felt something was off.
He hadn't had that feeling since that one afternoon when, as usual, he was hanging out with Sammi. The younger boy was having a hard time with a particular drawing. He kept tearing up drafts after drafts and restarting, frustration clearly shown on every detail on the boy's face. Max was tempted to ask, but he didn't know how. Miraculously, the younger boy could sense the question and so he said, "They weren't perfect. They need to be perfect. I don't like it when the drawings are not perfect." Sammi did not finish one drawing that afternoon, and all Max could say was they could try again the day after. When Max told P'Marie about Sammi as they were preparing dinner, she said that it could have gotten much worse. "It seems he was having a good day. Sammi's mother told me once that the boy could be triggered into a violent outburst. It's rare, but it happens. Look out for him, okay, Max?" Of course Max agreed despite not understanding why at all.
But this was a different kind of 'off'. Sammi's letter was supposed to arrive that day. He had never been late before. Was Sammi not doing well? Did Sammi not get a perfect picture? Did the postal service misplace his drawing? All the questions were swimming in Max's head as he planned to write a strongly worded letter to the post office for their mismanagement of Sammi's mails. (P'Marie talked him out of it though.) A week later, Max decided to write to Sammi again. And yet he didn't receive a reply for another two weeks.
Max excitedly ripped open the envelope. Something was indeed off. There was no drawing. The writing on the letter wasn't Sammi's handwriting. And there was a photo.
P'Marie found a hysterically inconsolable crying Max that afternoon. The teenager had never cried like that in all his years there and would never cry like that again. Sammi got in an accident as he was playing on the street near the house and unfortunately didn't make it. The photo was of Max and Sammi on the day the younger was about to leave. Max lost his brother. It was the first great loss he felt. He didn't know his parents, so he didn't understand 'losing someone' until that moment.
The photo and the letter were at the bottom of the box of letters between Max and Sammi, still kept in his closet.
——
Makx took a deep breath as he arrived at the studio complex for the first session with PT. Truth be told, his overthinking had been in overdrive the previous night that it took him forever to fall asleep. All kinds of terrible scenarios had popped up and he had planned out everything from ways he would handle the whole thing to possible exit strategies. "What can be worse than my stupid imagination?" Makx thought as he stepped inside.
He was promptly introduced to the studio's owner, Kevin, who led him to (according to Kevin) the largest studio in the complex. "I try my best to keep acquiring new toys as much as possible," explained Kevin. "However, there are a few classic things that I just can't part with. That and I haven't upgraded to the latest softwares. The last time I did prematurely, it took us forever to find ways for everything to speak to each other again. Not making that mistake again. Not fixing what isn't broken." Makx thought Kevin didn't have to sell it so hard; his time with EZ had taught him to look for the things that actually mattered, not just the bells and whistles.
"PT is my regular. Whatever he wants, he gets. You are his partner in crime now, so let me know what you need, okay?"
"Okay. Thank you, Kevin."
"Anything for the brothers," said Kevin before he turned to leave. Makx didn't know what to make of that statement, so he shrugged it off and entered the studio.
PT wasn't at the console setting up like he thought. Instead, he was in a corner whispering something to another scruffy-looking man. "That's his brother," whispered the assistant who had been assigned to accompany him today. Makx nodded his head, dropped his bag on a nearby chair and approached the two brothers.
"I am Makx V. It's great to finally meet you. It's an honor."
PT shook Makx's hands and said, "Oh please don't be too formal. I'm PT. Looking forward to working with you. This is my brother, Teddie."
Teddie, the autistic brother, smiled, but didn't look anybody in the eyes. Makx lowered himself so his eyes were on the same level as Teddie's and spoke, "Hi Teddie. I will be working with PT. I heard you would be around too. I'd like to get to know you too if it's okay with you." Teddie cracked a smile and nodded. PT was a little surprised, but didn't think much of it. After they all got settled and only the three of them were left in the room, PT announced, "Let's get started, shall we?"
As soon as they got into it, Makx and PT were pleasantly surprised with how well they got along. Alice and EZ were right: the styles merged well together. It was fresh and exciting. Every idea inspired the next one and songs were being churned out left and right. Makx, at first, worried the lunch breaks would slow down their creative process, but to his surprise, things usually got better after the lunch. Two weeks passed, and the phrase 'why don't we try this' became Makx's favorite line coming from PT. Everything following that phrase was gold. Even Teddie seemed to be happily nodding along every single time.
Speaking of Teddie, he had not been a bother at all. Every time Makx turned to look, he saw the guy was scribbling something on a notebook he had with him. Makx had tried to strike up a few conversations with Teddie, and they usually went fine, nothing too spectacular. On the Monday of the second week, Makx started to come in fifteen minutes early just to sit next to Teddie and told him a random story. Makx would give Teddie a slight pat on the shoulder before moving to where PT was to start working again. On the Thursday of that second week, Teddie surprised both Makx and PT by offering Makx a handshake as Makx was taking a seat. "That's a first," noted PT. "Teddie likes Makx's company, huh?" Teddie simply nodded and smiled.
The third week rolled around with a challenge. They had written so many songs, but something was missing. They had already decided to cut a few of the ideas they were trying because they didn't seem to fit in the general direction of the record. Kevin had been called in from time to time as their sounding board and had even suggested they should consider selling some of these songs to other artists. "They are fantastic songs, guys. But my ears are telling me they are not for Makx. Consider it?"
"I agree. My voice would not serve them well, and these songs deserve a life. Thanks, Kevin."
"Anything for you guys."
But they were missing a key song, something that can be the highlight and glue the ideas of the album together. That Wednesday was a particularly bad one; all morning, it was like they were trying to solve an equation with too many variables.
"PT, can we take an early lunch today? I don't think it's gonna happen in the next hour. Maybe we can get some new perspective on it in the afternoon?"
"I was thinking the same. Let's break for lunch."
As usual, Makx headed out first while PT would spend some time making sure Teddie would be okay on his own before heading out himself. Makx himself wouldn't return too early before their start time; he had learned to enjoy the park close by. Not on this particular day though.
Coming back from a light lunch, Makx was hoping to catch a cat nap before a (hopefully) more productive afternoon when something caught his ears.
It was just the piano and a tenor voice. It was a far cry from an angelic tenor praising God in a Handel's oratorio. It was not a dramatic tenor singing to his leading lady in a Gounod's aria. It wasn't a sexy sound like Elvis, or a crooner like Sinatra. But it was soulful and beautiful that it could make angels weep. It was almost a cry of a caged beast, soaring powerfully above the steady pulses of closed voicing chords on the piano. The beast in that voice was definitely wanting to break free from whatever chains that are binding it to this realm, yet it wasn't pain that was heard; it was determination and strength. Strength to face any injustice and adversity thrown at it. Strength to stand tall and brave to be who it is. The beast was beautiful, sharing its pride that cannot be tamed. And the song. That was the song they had been struggling with all morning, but with obvious changes. It was right. It was everything Makx wanted to say and more. Makx was pulled by an invisible thread toward the studio, not being able to contain his excitement to hopefully see PT at the piano, finally figuring it out. Makx silently opened the studio door and felt his body frozen stunned.
It was Teddie.
The silent boy was no more. Instead, there was a man not minding the rest of the world. The scruffy beard he had been sporting wasn't out of place anymore. Makx studied the man's features and found creases in his skin. Makx was mesmerized, listening and watching this man before him.
His thoughts were interrupted by sudden screams and banging on the piano. Nothing about them was musical. Makx looked and the man had disappeared and replaced with the boy yelling in frustration and pain, unable to stop smashing the piano keys with both his hands. Makx felt himself pushed aside as a figure rushed toward Teddie. PT held the boy's hands tightly and couldn't stop repeating "it's okay" to the hysteric Teddie.
"It has to be perfect. It needs to be perfect, Pete. I wasn't perfect. I couldn't be perfect," Teddie kept saying in between sobs. The boy was frustrated and felt the world had turned against his every effort. Makx could tell that. He approached the brothers, looking at PT as if asking for permission. PT nodded. Makx put his arm around Teddie and pulled the boy into a tight hug.
"Tell me what happened, Teddie."
"I couldn't... I couldn't be perfect. The last chord was not supposed to have an A in there. It was so wrong. My hand slipped. I hate it I hate it I HATE IT." Teddie would have slapped his own hands if PT hadn't been holding them.
"Listen to Makx, okay? You were fine. It wasn't perfect, but it was not bad at all. It was the best thing I have heard in years. I would like to hear you try it again. Can you do that for me, please?"
"No I can't," said Teddie, who couldn't control his tears any longer. He was an absolute mess.
Makx held him for a good twenty minutes until the boy could calm down. PT led him outside, leaving Makx alone inside the studio.
I couldn't be perfect.
Makx's eyes were wet as he thought of Sammi, the little boy he had considered his little brother all those years ago. He thought of the day he learned about the accident that had claimed Sammi's life and the shock that rendered him almost catatonic the entire day. That emptiness he had never discussed with anyone was all of sudden showing its ugly face. It was a numbness that made him lose all track of time and space.
He didn't remember how long he sat there when PT came back, apologizing for the incident.
"Why are you apologizing? It must have been one of the scariest moments of your life. It was not anyone's fault. Please don't ever apologize for that ever again. Not to me, not to anyone ever, please," Makx begged. He didn't know where that came from, but was glad he said it.
PT was on the verge of tears hearing that. They sat in silence for a bit; there seemed to be an understanding that their working day was over.
Makx broke the silence: "PT, I know it's hard to take care of Teddie. I don't know everything, but I can imagine a lot of it."
PT looked at Makx, perplexed. Makx started to tell the story of his experience with Sammi and his regret of not being able to protect, or at least see Sammi one last time since they said their goodbye.
With all plans of working out the window, PT found himself explaining to Makx about the NDA. "We were planning for the official debut show for us both. But during a rehearsal where we were to imagine playing to a large crowd, Teddie couldn't take it. He froze, Makx. And despite how much I tried to assure him that he would be perfect, he still refused to do it. So the plans had to change, only I would appear. Luckily, it was still early enough to change from 'P&T' to simply PT.
"PT is not my initials. It's 'Pete and Teddie'. Luckily it worked out. I don't think Teddie knows about that. He is happy to be helping me with the music and never wants any credit whatsoever. Trust me, I've asked and told him countless times that I want the world to know about him and how proud I am of him."
PT turned to the computer and loaded up a session Makx didn't recognize. "Let me show you something. This is me alone. This is Pete."
As they listened to the track, Makx noted how good it was, and if PT decided to release it, the track would make waves in its own rights. But he also noted something was missing. And as if reading his mind, PT stated, "It's the Teddie factor, Makx. It's undeniable."
"So, he must have been behind quite a few of those ideas you brought, huh?"
"Of course. He is the true hero behind the name PT. I make it a habit that we are one and the same musically. I never say 'I thought of this', if you notice. It's always 'Why don't we try this?' And since he is almost always there in our sessions, that's the least I can do to let him know how much I appreciate him. I never want to take credit for his work. And even my own ideas... 'What would Teddie do?' You know... I may be the face of PT, but it has always been Pete and Teddie."
"He is really lucky to have you."
"I am lucky to be loved by him. That brother of mine is everything. But to tell you the truth, sometimes, I wish I could have some help. But who would want to be part of this madness?"
"I'm curious... Why are you telling me this?"
"Because he trusts you. So I trust you."
"He trusts me?"
"He never lets anyone hug him like you did. And definitely not after two and a half weeks of knowing each other. There is a special kind of warmth around you, you know."
"Not anyone?"
"Even me. I get to hug him twice a year, on his and my birthday."
"Where is he now?"
"He is sleeping it off in Kevin's office. Kevin is a close friend of mine. Actually, the only true friend. He knows everything about us and is like family to us, especially since our parents' passing."
"When did that happen?"
"When I was eighteen. Teddie was just fifteen at the time. It shook us both, but Kevin has been there ever since. And in case you are wondering, Kevin has not had the privilege to come close to Teddie as you did."
"Now you are teasing me."
"Can't help it. Thank you for being there earlier, Makx."
"You're welcome."
"And I promise."
"What?"
"You asked me earlier to never apologize for something like that again."
"Right."
That was the first time anybody ever made PT promise something like that. A thought flashed in his mind wondering if his family had found another great friend and confidant. PT didn't have time to dwell on it as Makx had asked him,"So all those lunches he spent in here alone?"
"You guessed it."
"And you come back to spend time with him?"
"Yep. He would tell me his thoughts in between sandwich bites."
"Always BLT, I noticed."
"Yes. Please don't be mad that I have kept this from you."
"Why would I be? That's the deal between you too. But can I ask for a favor?"
"Yea?"
"Can I get to know him a little more? I mean, have Teddie write with us."
"I have no problem with it. But let me ask him, okay?"
"Sure. Does he record his ideas when we are away?"
"Always. You want to listen to the one from today, right?"
"You read my mind."
"Pete and Makx, please don't listen to it," said Teddie, appearing at the studio's door.
"Don't worry. We will only listen to the good part, okay?" Makx made sure to use the softest tone he could.
"It's okay. I want to play it for you again. I promise I will be perfect this time." An expression of determination written across his face.
PT and Makx both agreed.
Teddie approached Makx with a bottle of water and said, "Thank you for earlier, Makx. I promise to be perfect this time." Teddie never made eye contact but Makx understood; it reminded him of Sammi. He couldn't help but smile at the boy. Teddie, as if having a sixth sense about people smiling at him, smiled back.
Teddie sat at the piano and started playing. Makx was again mesmerized at the transformation happening right before him, a boy into a man, a shy and timid cat into a powerful and proud tiger. Teddie was indeed perfect. The song they struggled so much to get right all morning came out with ease in Teddie's voice. As soon as he finished, the man faded away and the boy appeared again and Makx couldn't help himself but approached the piano, placing one hand on Teddie's shoulder and said, "Thank you." To the surprise of both PT and Makx, Teddie threw his arms around Makx and hugged tightly.
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