Music To My Ears Ch. 02

This chapter was edited by MistySerenade and I would like to take the opportunity to thank her for the fine editing. Again, if there were any mistakes it would be my own doing and has nothing to do with the editor. Thank you Misty.

*

"Hey Bob! There's a lady from the Social Services here to see you," one of Robert's staff called to him through the recording studio door.

Robert Duncan cut a trim figure. Even though he was in his early forties, he only had slightly thinning blonde hair.

At the age of 24, he started a recording studio with some friends. He enjoyed meeting people and always had an upbeat attitude. Robert was well known for being loyal to his close friends. He had always had many girlfriends, but was never married. Robert joked it was because he was married to his work.

Robert gave a frown, a social worker? He was in the midst of arranging a piece of music with some violinists. He gave some instruction to his assistants before going out to meet the social worker.

Outside the visitor lounge was a very pretty young woman. She stood about 5' 4" with a lissome figure. She wore a white blouse and red slacks and was holding a briefcase. The first thing that caught Robert's attention were her eyes. She had very expressive big, golden brown eyes that smouldered with an underlying passion. Robert had always had this impression that social workers were middle aged with thick glasses and frumpy clothing. She, however, didn't looked anything like a social worker at all. She looked more like a catalogue model.

"Mr. Duncan, I'm Dominique Whitley. This is my name card," Nicky flashed him a bright smile. She simultaneously handed him her business card while extending her hand to be shook.

Robert grabbed her extended hand in a firm handshake. He was surprised when she responded with equal intensity. He could sense a raw energy in her. Her handshake said she was determined and wouldn't quit easily. He looked at her business card before acknowledging her,

"How may I help you Ms. Whitley?" Robert asked cordially.

"I've come regarding Mr. Eric Jordan Dillon," said Nicky.

Robert looked at her for a moment. "I think we can talk in my office. This way please."

Robert had come to know Eric when he had gone to his recital. Back then, Eric was still with The Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra.

Robert had read about the young, talented pianist and had wanted to personally see if he was the right person for his ballad. After the concert, Robert knew he was. Using the lure of his recording studio, Robert had persuaded Eric to collaborate with him on a full album.

The launch was phenomenal. It took the music scene by storm. Eric was already quite well known amongst his peers as an accomplished pianist. With the success of his first album, Eric had truly made his mark in the music industry.

While working on the album together, Robert and Eric had become good friends. Robert was fairly certain that friendship is what had brought the pretty social worker to see him today.

Robert led Nicky to his office. When Nicky stepped into the room she thought she was entering a small museum. It was full of discs and records hanging down from the ceiling. Pictures and posters of Robert with various recording artists were everywhere. Diplomas, trophies, letters of recognition and commemorative plaques graced every inch of his four walls. Miniatures musical instruments filled any available shelf. Nicky noted pictures of Robert and Eric dominated his huge desk in the office.

"So, what do you want with Eric?" Robert asked while settling himself down in his plush office chair behind his desk.

"I want to help him," Nicky simply replied.

Robert looked at Nicky for a while, as though scrutinizing her to see if she had an ulterior motive before speaking, "If the most expensive shrink in all of Philadelphia can't even help him, what makes you think you can?"

Robert remembered the first time he had persuaded Eric to see a psychiatrist. The psychiatrist had come out of his office with a black eye and promptly told Robert if he did not get a formal letter of apology and a suitable monetary compensation, he would sue them. Thus ended Eric's therapy sessions. No matter how Robert had tried, Eric refused to see another shrink again.

"Expensive doesn't necessarily means good. I know I'm confident in my work. See, there is difference between a psychologist and a social worker. Most psychologists sit on their behinds all day long in an office, waiting for clients to come by so they can counsel them. We social workers will do house calls even if the client refuses to come see us. I want to help Mr. Dillon regain his self-confidence. Social workers genuinely care for a person's welfare. We aren't in for the money," Nicky patiently explained to Robert the commitment of a social worker.

Robert liked the girl immediately. She had spunk and fire. He just wondered how long she would last before throwing in the towel. Even he had almost given up hope on Eric. Just last week he had gone to see Eric but Eric refused to even open his door. Robert had stood there for an hour before giving up.

"How did you meet Eric?" inquired Robert.

"Quite by accident, so to speak," Nicky explained to Robert about the incident that brought her here today.

"What do you want me to do?" Robert asked, after hearing about their unlikely meeting.

"I just need information about him, like what is he doing now and what he was like before. You don't need to register him with my center if you don't want to. Of course it'll be better if you do," said Nicky.

"Why are you so interested in helping him?" asked Robert.

"I hate to see people with talent waste away," Nicky admitted in a low whisper, "and I am a great fan of his music."

Robert nodded and thought for awhile. No harm in letting her have a shot at Eric's condition. Maybe she just might be what Eric needed. Someone who was pushy and stubborn; someone just like Eric now. How he wished he could do it himself, but he had a studio to run. He hated to admit that he was also afraid of Eric's temper. At least Eric wouldn't hit a woman, or would he?

"You've already seen him. I'm sure you know how difficult he can be. I'll advise you to approach with care. Music was his life. He lives and breathes in it. I try to see him as often as I can but I'm very busy with my recording, too. At the moment he is working part time in a factory by the dock, sorting out fish." Robert gave a sad laugh before he continued, "To think he was once a talented pianist. Now he is wasting his talent sorting out fish. He can compose beautiful music. It's a shame he just simply shut himself off."

"Yes. His first album 'Midnight Run', he composed tracks 11 and 12. He composed tracks 3 and 10 on 'Blue is the Sky', his second album. On his third album 'Affairs of the Hearts', which he collaborated with you on 2, 5 and 15," Nicky spoke as though she was giving her own recital.

"You know all his music by heart," Robert looked very pleased and impressed with the social worker.

She smiled without any hint of embarrassment. "I listen to him almost every night. It's only three albums. Not that hard to remember."

"Do you think there's hope for him?" Robert asked.

"Everyone has hope. I've yet to fail an assignment. People who care and love him should encourage him more, like you." Nicky could see Robert was genuinely a true friend of Eric from the way he spoke so fondly about Eric. He really wanted to help Eric.

"I signed him up for rehab for his alcoholism once, but he refused to go. He promised me he would cut down on his drinking. I don't think he's doing a good job of it, though," admitted Robert.

"What can you tell me about his childhood?" asked Nicky.

"Not much really. His parents died when he was three. He was sent to an orphanage. I think you know the rest, if you've done your homework on him," said Robert.

"And his personality before the attack? I mean the outside people, like us, only saw what he portrayed himself to be for publicity's sake..."

"One word: Passionate. He was very passionate about everything he did, whether it was composing a piece of music, or helping that old lady across the road, or giving his all to an audience when he was performing. He is a genuine person. He doesn't do all these things because he wants publicity. He does it because that's who he is."

Nicky was nodding her head as she scribbled down the details about Eric on her notepad.

"Sad to say, after the attack he changed. Now he is moody and withdrawn...there's a lot of anger in him, like his world has gone dark," Robert gave a sigh.

"Have you noticed he still has the spark in him? In his eyes?" asked Nicky.

"I have, but it's so hard to draw it out of him."

"Well, we are going to do just that. If we can reach inside of him."

"We?" Robert looked at Nicky incredulously.

"Of course. Don't you want to see him become his old self again?" asked Nicky crisply.

"I do! Of course I do," said Robert eagerly.

"Don't worry. I won't bother you everyday. I'll update you about his progress every few days."

"What do I do now?" asked Robert.

"I only need you to sign a referral letter that you referred him to us. It will make things much easier. If you don't want to sign it, I'll still help him on my own. I'm a social worker and my objective is to improve people's lives," said Nicky.

"I'll sign. I'll do anything to help Eric, too," Robert agreed earnestly.

"Oh, good. Here are some forms; I need you to fill out these...and these..." as she drew out some forms from her briefcase.

"You've come prepared?" Robert asked in awe.

"Always! There's no point wasting precious time," Nicky gave him a bright smile.

Twenty minutes later, she was out of the studio and on her way back to the office with the good news for Mimi. They got the case legally.

* * * * *

He had worked there for almost two years off and on. He would be considered one of the longest part time workers. People came and went in this line. It wasn't a glamorous job at all. Every day he came in, got the fish cleaned, sorted and packed for delivery. The job suited him fine. People here rarely interact. They worked, collected their wages and off they went. Only a handful of them were on permanent basis. They knew Eric had a strange character and would not talk to anyone other than what was needed for work, so he was pretty much left alone. There were a few that did try to make an effort to be friendly, but Eric would treat them coldly.

He always wore protective gloves when he worked. He would not take them off until it was time to leave, and even that was only if no one was watching. The moment he took off the gloves, he would wash his hands quickly. He would don another pair of cotton gloves and shove his hands into his coat, hiding them from view. Once a fellow worker had seen his hands and remarked, "Wow, what happened to your hands?" Eric had glared at him murderously. That night he went home, dunked his hands into ice, and got pissed drunk.

Sometimes, he wished his attackers had chopped off his hands completely, or that the doctor had amputated both of his hands, instead of leaving him constant reminders of their ugly appearance and almost uselessness.

Today, as usual, he had gone to the factory to work. After an hour someone called out to him, "Hey EJ, someone to see you out at the front."

Someone to see him? Other than Robert, who knew where he worked? And if Robert wanted to see him he'd always wait for him at his rundown apartment. Never once had Robert come to see him at work. Eric had warned him not to. He didn't want his coworkers to know who he was. He decided, whoever the person was, he wasn't going out to meet him or her. Then, a familiar voice rang out behind him.

"Hi," said Nicky.

"What the hell are you doing here? And how did you know where I work?" growled Eric when he saw who it was.

"Mr. Duncan..." said Nicky brightly.

Robert? Robert gave this pain in the ass his working address? How could he? Didn't he tell him not to let anyone know? He glared at Nicky before turning to his supervisor. He called out to him angrily, "Jake, I'm taking the day off!"

"What?" his supervisor answered, looking startled, "You can't just take the day off!"

"Take it off my pay! I'm on an hourly wage! I know what I can and what I can't do!" Eric loudly called back. He pulled off his PVC working gloves before stuffing his hands into his pocket. He strode past Nicky without looking at her.

Uh oh! Trouble. Nicky thought grimly. She knew where he was going. She tried to call Robert but his mobile was switched off. Must be in the recording room. She had no choice but to follow Eric. Too late! He had gotten into a cab. Quickly she hailed a cab and told the driver to go to Duncan Studio.

* * * * *

Eric was so furious he strode into the studio without announcing to the receptionist that he had come to see Robert. The receptionist was shouting after him, "Excuse me, Mister! You can't go in there! Mister?"

He went straight for the recording studio. Robert was inside talking to some artists when he felt someone grab him by the collar. The rest of the people in the control room and the studio were too stunned to react to the intruder.

"Hey! Hey! What the heck?! Let me go, Eric!" said Robert loudly realizing who it was.

Eric had never come by the studio after the attack. This was his first time in four years but he still remembered the place so well. The clean smell and quietness of the studio still overwhelmed him. He felt a familiar sense of belonging stirring within him. He blocked out the painful memories and pulled Robert into his office before slamming the door shut.

The office door quickly slammed opened again as two security officers charged into the room. They immediately reached for Eric.

"Mr. Duncan, are you alright?" asked one of the security officers.

"No! No! I'm alright! He is my friend!" Robert quickly explained to the security officers. "Please, leave us. Thank you," The two security officers were baffled but they released Eric anyway and left them alone.

"Nice of you to drop by, Eric. Nice way of greeting an old friend, too," said Robert, looking at a very furious Eric.

"I thought you were my friend!" shouted Eric. "Why did you sell me out? Why won't you leave me to live my life the way I want it to be?! Is that so much to ask for?"

"What are you talking about?" Robert demanded.

"You sent a bloody social worker to my workplace, that's what I'm talking about!" Eric yelled at him.

Oh, that! Robert just remembered that he had given Nicky the address of Eric's workplace. Now he was going to face the music if he told Eric he had even signed him up for counseling.

"Calm down, Eric. I'm only doing it for your own good. You don't want to smell like a fish or be a drunk for the rest of your life!" Robert raised his voice a notch higher.

"Oh! So, now you are finally admitting that I'm not good enough to be your friend? The work I'm doing is just too disgusting for your liking? Then why don't you just leave me alone?" retorted Eric angrily.

"Eric! You know I don't mean it that way. You are a talented guy. Don't you think you are wasting yourself away when...when..."

"You just don't get it do you, Bob? I can't play anymore. Why do you keep humiliating me?" Eric argued stubbornly.

Robert was getting angry now. He had to get through Eric's thick skull even if it meant risking their friendship.

"How long do you intend to go on living this way, huh? How long? You are still young! You still have a life! It's not over yet damnit!" Robert argued back fiercely. "If Beethoven or...or Rahsaan Roland..."

"Don't talk to me about them! I'm not them! I'm me! Get it?!" shouted Eric.

"NO! I don't get it, Eric! You're just self-destructive! You're punishing yourself for mistakes that were never yours! I just want you to wake up; to realize that there are so many more things you can do, even if you can't play your bloody piano anymore!"

"Will it make you feel better if I tell you I don't want to wake up?! I like the way my life is going now! It's my life!" Eric spoke harshly.

"YEAH! AND DRINK YOURSELF INTO OBLIVION TOO!" Robert shouted back angrily.

Nicky had arrived. She stood outside the office door listening to the muffled sounds of the men in the room, tearing at each other's throat. From the glass windows she could see Eric's eyes were blazing with fire. Robert's face was in a mask of fury, no not fury, more like frustration at Eric's stubbornness. She knocked on the office door, entering without being asked.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I would like to clear up something. It wasn't Mr. Duncan's fault. I took the initiative to persuade Mr. Duncan to let me help..."

"YOU! I've never met anyone like you before! Nosy!" Eric shouted into her face. Nicky closed her eyes.

"You forgot to add determined too," Nicky added bravely. Man! This guy was unbelievable. Nicky thought. He was worse than those troubled teens she had counseled before. That made her even more resolute to break through to him.

"Yes Eric, I took the liberty of signing you up on a counseling with this lady's center." Said Robert.

"You signed me up without my permission? I won't do it!" said Eric adamantly.

"Sorry buddy, you are still bound by the rules of this company. You forgot you are still under contract with me and I, as your producer and friend, have a right to see to your well-being," said Robert.

"Correction! Our contract ended two years ago! You don't have a right! You don't even have the right to reproduce my music! And you don't have a right in my private life! I'll sue you for invasion into my privacy!" Eric threatened.

Robert knew what Eric said was true. He didn't have a right, but as a good friend, he sure wasn't going to let him rot. "Go ahead. Sue me. At least the world will know you are still alive and wallowing in self-pity!" Robert dared him back. He couldn't let Eric waste his life anymore. After four long years it was time for Eric to wake up.

Robert pressed on, "All I'm asking from you, Eric, is to take this programme for 6 months. If it doesn't help, I promise I will let you be." Robert pleaded.

"I think you should give me a try, Eric. Can I call you Eric?" Nicky breezily interjected as though the three of them were having a normal conversation.

Eric looked at his best friend and the small woman incredulously. Why couldn't they understand his feelings? Why wouldn't they let him be?

"You two can go to hell for all I care!" He spat the words out through clenched teeth before stalking out of Robert's office.

"Eric!" Robert shouted after him, feeling sad and frustrated at his friend's stubbornness.

"Let him go Mr. Duncan. I think we got a start now," said Nicky.

"You call that a start? He was totally pissed!" said Robert.

"Well, I see it differently than you. At least he took the initiative to come and confront you. He is letting out his anger rather than bottling up inside."

"I guess you're right. Most of the time when I go to see him, that is if he even opens his door, he'll not say anything. He used to be so lively, cheerful, and handsome but look at him now... " Robert sighed in exasperation.

"Don't worry, Mr. Duncan. I'll do my best," said Nicky reassuringly.

Nicky left Robert's recording studio. She returned to her office to write a report on Eric's progress. She decided to go back to his workplace tomorrow and every thereafter until she broke through to him.

* * * * *

For the next two weeks she went to his workplace every morning without fail. She did not interfere in his work. She would sit outside the factory and take notes about Eric. Sometimes she just observed. Since she wasn't interfering with Eric's work, the supervisor of the factory left her alone. Eric tried to stay inside the factory, as far away from her as possible, avoiding her like a plague. Occasionally, he had to come outside to drag the boxes of fish left on the dock to be sorted out. Nicky would go over and try to talk to him. All Eric would do is snarl and growl at her in response.