Work Text:
Stanley was just on his way to the maintenance room, he wanted to go along with the Adventure Line™. He quite likes the music that the Narrator plays when he’s being guided by it™.
So to do that he has to enter the Employee Lounge. Stanley likes the Employee Lounge, especially its various seatings, it’s where he can just smash his face into blue cushions and sink into it. Stanley likes to relax in it.
The Narrator doesn't like it though, he always makes fun of Stanley whenever he face-plants into the seats, and stuff.
The Lounge door was open as usual and Stanley walked inside like usual, passing the couch, vending machine, paintings, and guitar like usual.
Wait… guitar?
Stanley froze in his tracks, his eyes locked on to the foreign shape, just reclining on one of the blue chairs.
The Narrator also stopped the script, “Huh? Why is there a guitar here? How did it get there??” He questions Stanley who’s now walking towards the musical instrument.
Once he got close enough, he picked up the guitar, “What, you’re gonna play that, Stanley? I doubt you even have the skills to strum the strings.” Mocked the Narrator.
Stanley shook his head at the unnecessary comments of the Narrator, he gazed at the string instrument in his hands and plucked one of its six strings, a crisp melody resonated from the action.
“That’s plucking, Stanley, but can you strum? Is the question?”
And Stanley can sure strum, as he glided his fingers along the strings snagging a couple to produce a satisfying tune.
“Cute, you can strum the strings, but can you actually play songs? A button-pusher like you could hardly play a chord from Twinkle-twinkle Little Star!” Stanley frowns at the Narrator's statements, so to prove him wrong he tries to play the song the Narrator mentioned ‘Twinkle-twinkle Little Star’.
He sits down on the couch, smooshing his back with the cushions as he sets the guitar in his arms and legs, relaxing his entire body, Stanley tries to remember what the song sounded like, closing his eyes to focus,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
He brings his fingers to the frets and tries to pick at one of the random strings; Peng!
Stanley’s eyes shot open as his concentration was broken by an off-key note.
“Hah! I knew it! You don’t even know how to play the most basic song!” The Narrator laughs, and Stanley huffs in annoyance.
“Now-now, Stanley! Don’t huff at me like that, blame this on yourself for not knowing how to play such a simple song.”
Stanley tries to find something he could write on, he grabs the pen that was in his breast pocket as he went searching in the Employee Lounge.
Thankfully there were some papers strewn around the floor near the vending machine, he picks a few up and goes to the coffee table, writing down his thoughts in ink.
‘Shut up, you probably don’t know how to play the guitar yourself!’ Stanley slid the paper onto the table, so it could face the ceiling.
“Stanley, I wouldn’t drag on you if I couldn’t play the guitar myself, and mind you, I’m an expert at it!” Stanley lifts one of his eyebrows at that.
‘Really?’ He quickly writes again.
“Of course! Here, have a listen,” A melody suddenly replaces the Narrators voice.
Stanley felt slightly ajar at the sudden difference, but swiftly relaxed to the expertly played tune, it was a soft melody, it felt similar to a lullaby sung by a loving mother.
Stanley almost fell asleep if it weren't for the Narrator's angry voice.
“Hey! Don’t you dare sleep, Stanley! I haven’t finished yet!” And the voice quickly transformed back to a soft tune, this time Stanley tried to not be swayed by it.
But it was as hard as trying to not push a button, as Stanley’s eyes drooped closed once again.
A snapping sound woke Stanley up, the soft melody was no longer playing but instead, the irate voice of the Narrator was,
“Stanley! I told you to not sleep! Look, now you’ve missed my whole performance, hmph! I’m never playing for you again if that’s going to be your whole reaction!” The Narrator tantrumed.
Stanley rubs at his eyes, his mind and body now felt quite refreshed, but not missing a beat he quickly grabs at the nearest piece of paper and wrote,
‘Don’t say that, keep playing for me?’
“Why should I? You’re gonna sleep through all of it, anyway.”
Stanley pleaded for the Narrator to play a tune, but the voice kept refusing.
‘Please?’ His eyes now imitated a sad puppy.
“No! At this point, why don’t you just learn to play it yourself if you want to hear it so badly!” Stanley was about to write a comeback before the Narrator's words got stuck in his head.
Learn it himself?... Of course! He could do that!
‘Then how do I learn it?’
“Huh, you actually took my words seriously? Well, I don’t know, I'm not gonna teach you.” Stanley frowns at that.
“Why don’t you just play around with that guitar, who knows you could be the next Jimi Hendrix? Haha, just kidding you could never!” The Narrator joked around.
Stanley took what the Narrator said, and played around with the guitar, stringing horrible tunes after horrible tunes. “Stanley, could you stop! Your horrible playing is making me deaf!” Stanley ignores the Narrator continuing his brand of strumming.
“I can’t take this anymore! Stanley give me the guitar! I never should’ve put one here for you!” The Narrator's voice boomed, causing Stanley to momentarily stop playing, but quickly got back to plucking and strumming strings once again.
“Stanley! Stop! Ahh… if I give you lessons would you stop!” Stanley stops his fingers and looks toward the ceiling before nodding enthusiastically, “Great! No more horrible tunes, you hear me!” Stanley nodded.
The Narrator huffs at Stanley’s response, “Okay, let's start with basics!” A guitar poofed in front of Stanley, startling him.
“Calm down, Stanley, how else are you gonna learn if you can’t see what I’m doing?”
The guitar now hovered in the air, Stanley sees that one of its strings was moving,
Tang!
And it produced a sound from the guitar, “Now, Stanley! Hold your guitar! You said you want to learn right?” Stanley once more nodded, now holding the guitar closer to himself.
“Good posture, now let’s start,” Stanley feels something guide his hands towards the fretboard, he tries to see what it was but... nothing was holding his hands.
“Stanley, stop looking like you’ve lost a finger, focus now!” Stanley stopped his bewildered expression and looked toward the floating guitar.
He sees that one of its strings glow, “See the glowing string? That’s the first string, this is E, this is how it sounds,” the Narrator demonstrates as the string was plucked producing a crisp sound.
Stanley copies what the Narrator did, plucking the same string and in turn creating the same melody, Stanley’s eyes lit up.
“Good, now to the next string!” The lesson continues.
Stanley learns all about the guitar, all its inner workings, and outer workings.
All about its notes, chords, and tune; the Narrator guides him through all of that.
Stanley also learned some songs, and he can also now play Twinkle-twinkle Little Star, Stanley felt proud about that.
The Narrator watches as Stanley plays with his guitar, professional in his movements, also not inducing a single mistake as he plays a piece the Narrator spent countless time mastering.
‘How is he this good already?! It’s just been a few- well probably not hours maybe a few days? But the point is he’s already better than me???’
“How are you already this good…” That sentence slipped from the Narrators mind.
Stanley stopped his playing, looking up at the ceiling in surprise, “Ah! I didn’t mean to say that, slip of the tongue there!” Stanley grabs a piece of paper,
‘What do you mean I’m already good?’
“It means what it means, Stanley! You’re a prodigy at the guitar! You’re amazing at it!-” Narrator hurls compliments toward Stanley.
At the of the complimenting session, the Narrator looks toward Stanley’s face, which now sported a grin and a flush; a finger scratching their cheek in embarrassment.
‘Thanks.’
“Well, it’s just the facts, Stanley.” The Narrator could feel himself smile at the other's reaction.
‘But, I’m probably not as good as you.’ That quickly gained the Narrator's attention.
“No! You are actually! Better even!” The Narrator defends Stanley’s skill from the man himself.
Stanley felt confused at what the Narrator's voice was saying, he was better than the Narrator?
The office worker didn’t want to believe it, but since the Narrator themselves was insisting, how could he say no? And so he reluctantly accepted the title of the best guitarist in the Parable.
And so Stanley didn’t need lessons anymore, the Narrator deeming him already knowledgeable, Stanley didn’t want the lessons to stop; he liked the Narrator’s attention on him, along with the invisible touches that guided him.
Stanley could just ask but it felt too embarrassing, plus the Narrator would probably hound him for a reason why.
He finally stood up from the couch after who knows how long, but thankfully all of his joints felt somewhat okay, just slightly stiff from all that sitting.
Stanley picked up the guitar and made his way to the maintenance room, “Oh, you’re bringing the guitar, Stanley?” The man nodded, strapping the guitar around him securely.
‘Of course, you gave it to me!’
“Aghh, shut up, Stanley…” The Narrator quipped in annoyance, and Stanley silently chuckled.
He walks past the Lounge room's exit and the Narrator resumes the story.
Everything was as usual, only now Stanley had a guitar with him, even resets could not make the guitar disappear, as it was now permanently strapped onto Stanley’s back regardless of wind or chime.
Stanley also now plays the guitar around the Parable, serenading it like a bard on an adventure, Narrator doesn’t mind at all, enjoys it actually, even making some changes to the script so it’ll include the guitar, even new endings.
Sometimes Narrator even plays his own guitar in tandem with Stanley, making a musical ruckus in the office, just those two, creator and creation.
The Narrator has made his own songs, even giving lyrics to them, often those songs are what the Narrator likes to play and Stanley can’t say otherwise; he loves them too.
Especially the lyrics, Stanley wonders if they really mean like what he thinks they are meant but could never get a confirmation.
The two are now actually in the boss's office, Stanley was on his way to the freedom ending, but Narrator had wanted to have a jam session right then and there.
Stanley sat in his boss's chair, it wasn’t like the firm blue seats in the Employee’s Lounge but it was fine for him. Stanley waited with his guitar firmly holding it in his arm, waiting for the Narrator to finish tuning his guitar.
“-And, done! Okay, Stanley, ready to play?” He nodded.
A burst of melodies came from the two, and the somewhat silent room became rowdy with fun tunes,
“Ehem-” Oh it seems like the Narrator’s gonna sing.
“This Parable might be endless,
searching doors till no more
Till the floor turn orange and till the paint dries off-”
The lyrics pass by like a breeze, mostly just nonsense filler, but it was always towards the end where Stanley always remembers.
“By the end, I’m searching for my one and only,” Stanley perks his ears at those words.
“-Stanley! The protagonist for this excellent story!!” Stanley droops his ears, those words never stuck to what he wanted to be meant.
But it was fine, if the Narrator wouldn’t do it, Stanley would, and not subtlety.
Stanley goes through the usual routine, walk through doors and get an ending, but this time he had a thought in his mind, one that was aimed at crafting a song.
Trying to contort his feelings into words, it was the hardest thing he had ever done. Can such complex affections even be described by words? Well, Stanley tried his best to.
But it was the last lyric Stanley was now confused about, his fondness is, of course, infinite but how could he put so much into just one lyric? His brain might explode from all this thinking.
Oh, and the Narrator also wanted to have another jam session in the Employee Lounge right now, “Hmm, what’s with your face, Stanley?” The Narrator questioned.
Stanley quickly stopped his thoughts and put on a relaxed expression, signaling to the Narrator that everything was fine.
“If everything's fine, then let us start!” The usual sesh played out, Stanley just strumming on his guitar and the Narrator singing somewhat rhyming words.
Stanley momentarily gave up trying to make the last lyric to his song, opting to do it after this melodic bash ended.
He listens to the Narrator sing,
“In this Parable, it’s endless, never a conclusion,
If it goes on forever
At least you’re here with me forever!”
Stanley just had a eureka moment right then and there, he stops his fingers.
“Huh? Why did you stop! I was just about to finish singing in a few seconds!”
Stanley grabs a piece of paper,
‘I have a song for you.’
“You made a song… for me?” Stanley nodded.
‘Can I play it right now?’
“Well since you already interrupted my song to tell me that, of course! Let me hear it!” The Narrator was excited, anticipation already seeping through his voice.
Stanley put his finger back to the strings, took a deep breath,
And opened his mouth,
“As I wanted to tidy up the reasons for my tears, I wrote them down on a B5 size paper
Various feelings such as pain, and sadness
I had found myself on the tip of the stained-ink
’A man tends to wish to be the very first and a woman tends to wish to be the last’
According to this quote, I am sadly the latter,”
Narrator was surprised Stanley decided to sing, he hurriedly tried to put his full attention on it, it was extremely rare for him to talk, but sing a song? Well this is the first time.
“You can throw me around, mess with me till my tears run out,”
“That’s because I feel like it will lead us to be together forever till the very last moment,”
“And in the very last moment
Please look at me
I want you to look at me and smile,”
“Even if you are being moody and being so mean to me
Even if you lead me on for your own fun
I am miserable on a B5 size paper,”
“There are only a few reasons to like you
There are so many reasons to hate you
But there is no one who could replace you
So it may be the time to make up my mind
As I am ready to accept myself,”
“You can throw me, and mess me till my tears run out
So that we can be together forever and ever
And in the very last moment
Please look at me,”
“Please hold tight no matter both the good times and the bad times
So that we can be together forever and ever
I will never let you go,”
“Please stay by my side
And I want you to look at me,”
“I think I want to love you forever until the very end.”
The tune from Stanley’s guitar faded out from the Narrator’s mind, as he tried to process what he just heard.
Stanley awkwardly sits around waiting for a comment from the Narrator, he fiddles around with his guitar strings from the anxiousness.
“Oh,” A small sound finally came out of the Narrator, Stanley looked a bit pinkish now.
“That was some nice singing there, Stanley.” The man closed his eyes, giddy, waiting for it.
“Now, shall we finish my song,” Stanley felt his body deflate and something stinging his eyes, he didn’t felt giddy anymore, Stanley hoped this was a just a nightmare right now,
His feelings had just been ignored.
But of course, he knows he will still love the Narrator even after that, forever .
“Actually, you know what? I’ll sing a new song,” Tang of strings suddenly resounded, “Okay, here we go! Follow my lead, Stanley!”
Even through watery eyes and deflated mind Stanley did what the Narrator wanted.
“Ahem-
This was the story of a man named Stanley,”
“A man so unremarkable
So blank like printer paper,”
Was the Narrator really insulting him now? Stanley felt his eyes get wetter.
“Lost like a puppy in this office
Bashing down doors like a wildebeest
Never listening to my hints,”
“Grinding my gears to an upturn
Binging a bucket for a partner, when I’m right here
Going to the right door instead of the other,”
“A button pusher, no wife
Walking around with no end
A man that holds all my fondness-”
Huh, what?
“Sweeter than muffins
Adoration is in my words
What’s before it’s half true,
But my irritation can’t match half of my affection,”
What.
“Hmm, the office can disappear, but at least you’ll still be here
Bright brown eyes, addicting like sweetened coffee
Lithe fingers, a prodigy on strings,”
“Smiles brighter than the office lights
Hair fluffier than warm blankets,”
Stanley pressed his back against the couch, mouth in a thin, a soft smile arose, all the while still holding his previous tears.
“Forever might never be so bad, if you exist
In the end there’s no one who could replace you
Hey, Stanley
I would want to love you until the very end, too.”
The Narrator’s voice faded, along with the guitars.
Stanley sat frozen, so many thoughts running through his mind.
His feelings weren’t ignored,
It was requited.
The water Stanley was holding back, cascaded down his cheeks.
“Stanley, why are you crying??” Stanley wipes his tears away, a smile now adorned his face.
‘You have some nice singing there.’
“It’s better than yours by a long shot!” Prided the Narrator.
‘Was my singing bad?’
“Um, no. Pretty good for someone who doesn’t talk, it was nice.” He said that last bit with such fondness.
Stanley grins at that, at least the Narrator liked his voice.
“So… What after this, Stanley?” The office worker paused, but swiftly writes down,
‘Can you sing that song again?’
“Only if you sing yours again,” Narrator retorted.
The rest of the day was spent singing to each other.
At some point, the two decided to continue the story,
But all the while strumming the halls,
Strumming only love.
