Her Song

Author's Note (1) : This story uses the lyrics of Elton John's 1971 track "Your Song". I do not own the rights to this song or its lyrics. That would be him and the brilliant Bernie Taupin.

“I feel my heart beat out of time,” Ryan Bernard whispered to himself whilst he blankly stared at the beat-up, black stereo system at the other end of the marketing office he worked in.

He grasped at the juniper green silk tie that hung on his neck, as if his large, muscular hands were following a rhythm only he could hear. A shrill, pervasive tone rang in his ear, making him shake his chestnut-topped head. His mind replayed the many ways the next couple of minutes could end; either the tune of his life would finally play in dolce or this could be the cacophony that grated on his own ears.

Ryan’s hazel eyes scanned the open plan of his workplace yet again, as per usual whenever he was at his desk. He let his peepers glide around the area, as if dancing to an unheard waltz before they honed in on her.

“Cecilia,” he muttered to himself as inside him, a chorus of angels broke into Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony.

Cecilia Dwightly --- she of the large aquamarine eyes and the lilting laugh, she who loved to create advertising copy with her pair of lavender-coloured headphones slapped on, she who he’d overheard a million times talking about her latest finds by Todd Rundgren, Al Stewart, Gordon Lightfoot, and “especially Elton John” from the Islington record stores – sat in front of the computer with a wide grin on her fox-like face as the radio blasted “Hello It’s Me”. From his vantage point an entire department away, Ryan could see the beautiful brunette move a leg under her frothy amethyst dress up and down, as if dancing in place to the ditty, whilst tapping away percussively on her keyboard.

“She’s like a melody,” Ryan thought, swooning. “I don’t mind having her stuck…”

You’re on BBC 2 with me, John Regis. And right now…it’s time for Sound Love Confessions.

“Shit, here we go,” he said to himself as he heard the announcement, a trumpet blare back to the reality he set himself up for.

When he emailed the programme two weeks before, it seemed like it was a good idea, that he’d hit the right note, so to speak. However, as he nervously gripped his swivel chair’s arms knowing that in just a few moments, the black box on top of the firm’s accountant’s filing cabinet would be blasting the song he’d specifically requested to tell the lovely publicist he fancied that she was his sweet song, Ryan felt his heart crashing about like cymbals in his chest. He gulped as the presenter on the air continued his spiel.

Now, for today’s Sound Love Confession, we go all the way to the offices of Canary Wharf where the email sender had told me “John, could you please play this for a colleague of mine I’ve been stealing glances at? I just want them to know how they make everything melodious in my eyes.” Of course, how could we resist?

This is Elton John with “Your Song”.

As the familiar piano intro filled the air of their one-storey office, a sudden urge surged inside Ryan to hide himself like a patron inside their own box in a gilded theatre. His gaze darted away as the words from the love ballad flowed out of the cracked speakers.

 It's a little bit funny this feeling inside

I'm not one of those who can easily hide

I don't have much money, but, boy, if I did

I'd buy a big house where we both could live

“It’s bad, isn’t it,” he mumbled, sighing. “She probably finds it cheesy and as annoying as a bugle used as an alarm clock. Her face is probably twisted in... a smile?”

He looked up and gasped as he observed the blue-green eyed subject of many of his shower serenades beaming to the still air, her ears turned to the radio. Her mulberry-painted bow lips parted to mouth out the lyrics.

Ryan’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Cecilia Dwightly, the woman who made his ticker’s cadence an undeniable vivace, found his haphazardly-planned surprise lovely. A harp dulcetly strummed in his mind as he let his imagination fuse together the dreams he’d conjured up for the past two years, as if they were notes in a chord. However, there was barely time for him to get carried away by the music of his mind. He still had to pick up the second part of his confession.

“Right, the tulips,” he said to himself.

He snuck out of the office as the theme from “The Pink Panther” looped in his head. A dozen bright pink flowers in hand, he deftly re-entered his workplace, gentle as aeolian strings. This was it.

“Okay, I just need to hand this over to…Cecilia? Where is she?”

Once more, his hazel eyes frantically searched for the woman that he could write arias for. However, with every turn of his head, he stared at nothingness, the melody in his mind grinding to a screeching halt.

“No, no, no! It can’t be,” Ryan exclaimed. “All this effort to tell…”

And you can tell everybody this is your song

It may be quite simple, but now that it's done

I hope you don't mind

I hope you don't mind that I put down in words

How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Suddenly, the constant clacking of keyboards, the laughter of colleagues, and the drone of the air conditioning unit faded into the background. All Ryan could hear was the black stereo…and Cecilia’s dynamic soprano singing every word of the song he’d dedicated to her.

“What’s going…”

And that was Elton John’s “Your Song”, which goes out to Ryan and was requested for by Cecilia. How beautiful!

“You…asked for…,” Ryan sputtered out, his ears now picking up the deep breaths of the object of his affection.

“Ryan, look, this is probably way too brazen for me, but…yes, all of the love ballads I’ve sang in those office karaoke parties, they’re all secretly for you,” Cecilia confessed. “You’re my song.”

“I…uh.”

“Look, I know. It’s really cheesy, but I just hope you don’t mind.”

Immediately, Ryan knew how to answer the woman he yearned to dance to his records with since meeting her two years ago. He broke into a shy smile and stared into her aquamarine eyes.

“I’m just going to put it in words. How wonderful life is while you’re in the world.”