Importance of Music

Tight headphones are secured onto my head, as music blasts through my ears. I hummed along to the melody, trying to forget what this day means and what this day has brought me. 

Yet, it’s weird. Here I am blasting “Happiest Year” by Jaymes Young, but I’m wallowing in my own misery. I guess you could say it was unusual, but there’s a reason for everything, right? 

One year ago today, my bestfriend had died. Her favorite thing was listening to music. I swear sometimes she’d rather listen to her music than listen to me. 

Though, I didn’t mind it. That was her way with coping with everything. It wasn't until she was gone that I realized what music meant to her.

Music was her only escape from the harsh world around her. It was her way of dealing with all the pain and anguish she was enduring. Music meant much more to her than just her listening to her favorite songs.

You know, her last words to me before she committed suicide were that she hoped the afterlife was as peaceful as music.

Now, I didn’t think much of what she meant until after I got a call from my second mother— her mom, telling me that my bestfriend took her life. 

I suppose that's why I started listening to music in the first place, to find what she did, the tranquility it brought her.

So here I was, on top of this hill, playing this song on repeat while gazing down at the Hollywood sign and the lights of Los Angeles. It was a beautiful distraction from reality. 

The lights seemed to brighten up the dull reality that surrounded me. Not to mention the stunning sunset, which was disappearing as it grew darker by the second. 

Just as I was about to check the time, I felt a nudge on my left shoulder. I looked to the left, raising my eyebrows when I found a girl around my age— probably seventeen. 

I took out one of my headphones and adjusted the volume so that I could hear what the girl next to me was saying.

“Yes?” I asked, my voice was weak and scratchy. No doubt from all the tears I’ve shed today. 

“What song are you listening to?” She questioned, her finger pointing at my phone. 

I turned on my phone and showed her the monotonous song that kept repeating in my ears. She offered me a warm smile as she scanned the title. 

“I’m listening to ‘Here’ by Alessia Cara,” she spoke. I didn't say anything in response to her song choice, just nodded. 

Only when she slipped a strand of her locks behind her ear did I notice the wireless air-pod she had inserted into her ear. I guess that made sense why I didn’t see her wires connected to her phone as mine were.

“I’m Vina,” she added. 

Even though I wanted space, I didn't want to be impolite, so I told her my name. “Lynn.” 

"So, what brought you to this vantage point, looking down on the city?" Vina interrogated, both curious and persistent. 

I took out my headphones and placed them on the ground next to me, knowing that I wouldn't have any more time to myself. If she wanted to talk, I’d keep her company. 

It also worked in my benefit. That way, it might be another source of distraction; after all, a view can only be enjoyed for so long. After that, I turned to Vina and established direct eye contact with her. 

In response to her question, I shrugged my shoulders. "I'm just looking for some peace. You?”

"I was wandering away from home, or, to be more precise, a house party. I didn't like the music they were playing." She laughed, and a faint smile appeared on my face. 

This is the first time I've smiled today. 

"So I walked out of my house, plugged in my music that made me feel at ease, you know?" Vina continued, prompting me to agree. 

I knew exactly what she meant when she said she wanted music that understood her and made her feel valued. 

“Yeah,” I trailed off. "Music has the ability to do that to you, just as it has the ability to make me want to find serenity." I spoke my thoughts aloud. 

When I snapped out of my trance, Vina was watching me with curious eyes. It was almost as if she was studying me, trying to understand me. 

"When I first saw you, you looked sad and as if you needed space. Something told me to talk to you, so here I am," she concluded, a smile spreading across her face. 

"I'm nosy but not pushy; do you want to talk about it?" She asked cautiously, like if treading on eggshells. 

My mother has been trying for a year to persuade me to see a therapist and tell them how I feel. I never tried counseling because I didn't feel it could help me. 

However, perhaps telling a stranger everything and then never speaking to them again will be good for me. At the very least, I know they can pass judgment on me without having to see me again. 

"My bestfriend passed away a year ago today. Today has been rough, but I'm getting through it with the help of music." I came to a halt for a moment, attempting to take a deep breath. 

"My bestfriend adored music; in fact, she loved it even more than she loved me. She was able to get through anything with the help of music. That's probably my way of paying tribute to her, perhaps even attempting to see what she saw in music." I concluded. 

Although I told Vina the short story of this past year, it made me feel better. I guess an ear, rather than advice, was what I needed. 

Vina hummed slowly, as if she was thinking. But it didn't bother me. I enjoyed the silence; it was comforting, welcoming even. Vina nudged me again, and I locked my gaze on her. 

She gave a kind smile. "You know, she's speaking to you through the music. You’ll find your peace soon.” 

Her response made me smile. My second smile of the day, something my family couldn’t even manage to do. Not wanting to talk about my situation anymore, I returned the question, now curious as to how she ended up here. 

“What about you? What brings you here?" I questioned. 

Vina gave me a sidelong glance. “I’m not a big fan of outgoing people, they make me feel as if I have to be someone I’m not. I listen to music because it’s my own world. I get to create and control what I do.” 

Her response caused me to think and think deeply. We each had separate but eerily similar reasons for being here, and for why music is so important to us. 

We shared a lot of similarities, and I think for the first time in a long time, a new warmth flowed over my body. I poked Vina in the same way she usually nudged me. 

"You're not so bad after all; I suppose I finally found someone who understands me." With a tiny laugh, I told her. Vina looked at me and playfully rolled her eyes. 

Since it was getting late, we both decided to head home. When I sought to get Vina's phone number, I surprised myself. I did, after all, want to see her again. 

I didn’t mind it at the fact that I would probably see her again. All that mattered was that we had a passion for something so simple yet profound: music.