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writetomyheart2013-12-20 07:27 pm
kimidori-san.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2013-12-20 07:27 pm
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[Team 1] Despair No More
Long overdue Goto feelings. Or something. Mentions of previous Question? members.
“Despairingly” is how he later describes it on further contemplation, always during the middle of the night, sometimes even during the middle of the day. He finds it’s an apt word to describe everything, actually, making it really very convenient, and he likes convenient - it makes everything a little easier to deal with. The way he struggled with himself to not call out, the way his heart slowly sank as he watched, wondering if he was the foolish one for staying. With despair. He knows, because he remembers vividly the effort it took to not interfere, because he could feel it, like his heart had chosen to settle in his stomach, because for days afterwards he was still carrying the same expression, and Goto had seen enough movies to know what it was.
He’d known that forever didn’t exist, especially in such an agency, but Goto now admits he became too complacent, too comfortable, after so many years. Not regarding music - musicians can’t afford to be “comfortable”, and in this regard Goto never was, always practicing for hours each day, challenging himself constantly with new techniques, saving up every scrap he could for a new violin. No, it was people he’d become complacent with, and even though he was always there to witness a new progression of juniors either make it or quit, Goto never really thought about what would happen when the time came for one of their own to leave. He’d thought they would forever remain in the third category, see, the category for those that stay for years, even with little to no prospects of ever debuting.
“There are other things,” Ishigaki had told them before. “Things other than debuting. We’re different from the rest.” And they had all agreed. For they were different. Their job was to support, support the main acts, for everyone needs music and music they could provide. Even if they could never become the main act, despite all of them bring more than capable enough, Goto was happy, because it was enough, for him, to stand on stage with his bandmates, beloved instrument in hand, knowing that what he did helped. And he’d thought that it was enough for them, too.
It's fine that it isn’t anymore, or maybe it wasn’t even then, but whatever it is, it’s not a problem. He misses seeing them every day, sure, but it’s a world with technology, where everyone’s merely a call or an email away. Sometimes Akun calls them all out for lunch, demanding the latest gossip, Fujiie drags him out shopping even though Goto doesn't know the first thing about fashion, and Yody still wants to know what kind of music everybody's listening to. Goto still tells them everything, except for the fact that he was once terribly unsure.
If only there were a way to just know your place in the world, from the moment of birth, because boy, that would have saved Goto weeks, months, even, of his life spent worrying, time that could have otherwise been put to better use. The only thing he knows for certain is that he loves what he does, and, as he'd told Ishigaki once, it must surely count for something, right? Sometimes Goto still wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering if it's worth it, if he's just clinging onto fragile pieces of a dream he'd once had, but then he enters the jimusho in the morning and remembers why he's here. And as long as he still loves what he does, here is where he’ll remain.
Tag,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
omoikkiri! :D
“Despairingly” is how he later describes it on further contemplation, always during the middle of the night, sometimes even during the middle of the day. He finds it’s an apt word to describe everything, actually, making it really very convenient, and he likes convenient - it makes everything a little easier to deal with. The way he struggled with himself to not call out, the way his heart slowly sank as he watched, wondering if he was the foolish one for staying. With despair. He knows, because he remembers vividly the effort it took to not interfere, because he could feel it, like his heart had chosen to settle in his stomach, because for days afterwards he was still carrying the same expression, and Goto had seen enough movies to know what it was.
He’d known that forever didn’t exist, especially in such an agency, but Goto now admits he became too complacent, too comfortable, after so many years. Not regarding music - musicians can’t afford to be “comfortable”, and in this regard Goto never was, always practicing for hours each day, challenging himself constantly with new techniques, saving up every scrap he could for a new violin. No, it was people he’d become complacent with, and even though he was always there to witness a new progression of juniors either make it or quit, Goto never really thought about what would happen when the time came for one of their own to leave. He’d thought they would forever remain in the third category, see, the category for those that stay for years, even with little to no prospects of ever debuting.
“There are other things,” Ishigaki had told them before. “Things other than debuting. We’re different from the rest.” And they had all agreed. For they were different. Their job was to support, support the main acts, for everyone needs music and music they could provide. Even if they could never become the main act, despite all of them bring more than capable enough, Goto was happy, because it was enough, for him, to stand on stage with his bandmates, beloved instrument in hand, knowing that what he did helped. And he’d thought that it was enough for them, too.
It's fine that it isn’t anymore, or maybe it wasn’t even then, but whatever it is, it’s not a problem. He misses seeing them every day, sure, but it’s a world with technology, where everyone’s merely a call or an email away. Sometimes Akun calls them all out for lunch, demanding the latest gossip, Fujiie drags him out shopping even though Goto doesn't know the first thing about fashion, and Yody still wants to know what kind of music everybody's listening to. Goto still tells them everything, except for the fact that he was once terribly unsure.
If only there were a way to just know your place in the world, from the moment of birth, because boy, that would have saved Goto weeks, months, even, of his life spent worrying, time that could have otherwise been put to better use. The only thing he knows for certain is that he loves what he does, and, as he'd told Ishigaki once, it must surely count for something, right? Sometimes Goto still wakes up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, wondering if it's worth it, if he's just clinging onto fragile pieces of a dream he'd once had, but then he enters the jimusho in the morning and remembers why he's here. And as long as he still loves what he does, here is where he’ll remain.
Tag,
omoikkiri! :D