... My father was a gifted musician. The best I've ever heard. He wanted nothing more than to make my mother and I happy, and to spread those feelings to other people as well. Everything I want to be, I wanted to be because of him.
[Her words are slow, and careful. It's not like this is some deep dark secret that can never see the light of day; she's opened up to other people about it, of course. But there's still so much shame that digs into her heart when she speaks of this. Self-loathing so intense it seeps out into her voice when she continues to speak.]
But the people he worked for, his clients... they didn't always think my father's music would resonate with the right people. They thought his music was too old-fashioned, and he had trouble finding work...
[If Rinne's able to read music, he'll notice that the melody is a sort of upbeat little jingle. Nothing like the dark, raw songs in the rest of Niigo's discography, oddly enough. But even if he has no eye for it, there's something interesting about the notes themselves; most are done in a very neat, precise hand, while several bars in the middle are a little more sloppy, like someone less practiced in writing out sheet music had added pieces there.]
... One day, I saw him working hard on a song for a competition he entered. All I wanted was to help take some of the pressure off his shoulders, so I helped him compose part of the melody. [She pulls her legs in close to her chest, like she's trying to curl in on herself.] My father won the competition, but... all they cared about was the part I wrote. It got popular enough to be used in a commercial, and suddenly, all my father's clients wanted him to produce work like that. He couldn't, and...
[That day will forever be burned into her mind. Calling out to her father, wondering why he'd slept in so late into the morning, and then...
Sirens. Doctors. Someone trying to explain to her middle-school self the psychological effects of stress and overwork. Trashing her father's room when she found his journal, deciding then that maybe she should just starve to death...]
cw: suicidal ideation, starvation mention
[Her words are slow, and careful. It's not like this is some deep dark secret that can never see the light of day; she's opened up to other people about it, of course. But there's still so much shame that digs into her heart when she speaks of this. Self-loathing so intense it seeps out into her voice when she continues to speak.]
But the people he worked for, his clients... they didn't always think my father's music would resonate with the right people. They thought his music was too old-fashioned, and he had trouble finding work...
[If Rinne's able to read music, he'll notice that the melody is a sort of upbeat little jingle. Nothing like the dark, raw songs in the rest of Niigo's discography, oddly enough. But even if he has no eye for it, there's something interesting about the notes themselves; most are done in a very neat, precise hand, while several bars in the middle are a little more sloppy, like someone less practiced in writing out sheet music had added pieces there.]
... One day, I saw him working hard on a song for a competition he entered. All I wanted was to help take some of the pressure off his shoulders, so I helped him compose part of the melody. [She pulls her legs in close to her chest, like she's trying to curl in on herself.] My father won the competition, but... all they cared about was the part I wrote. It got popular enough to be used in a commercial, and suddenly, all my father's clients wanted him to produce work like that. He couldn't, and...
[That day will forever be burned into her mind. Calling out to her father, wondering why he'd slept in so late into the morning, and then...
Sirens. Doctors. Someone trying to explain to her middle-school self the psychological effects of stress and overwork. Trashing her father's room when she found his journal, deciding then that maybe she should just starve to death...]
... He's never been the same. All because of me.