Melody

I finish my song just as I hear the door open. It's probably Mr. Carter telling me he's back from the washroom. I turn around and my heart suddenly skips a beat.

It's him.

My fight or flight senses kick in, and I quickly hop up from the bench and scurry to the other side of the grand piano. I peek at him from behind the raised lid, as if it's a shield that will somehow protect myself from him.

"Hey it's you again." He flashes a bright smile and walks into the room.

"U-uh," I stammer, my mouth feels too dry to speak. The room suddenly feels ten times smaller and my heart is palpitating wildly as if I had just run a marathon. "C-could you leave, please?" I whisper.

His smile falters a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry if I startled you," he apologizes and rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not sure if you remember me but we sort of met last weekend," he laughs. His laugh is as smooth and sweet as honey. I mentally kick myself for noticing that.

I quickly nod. "Yeah," I mumble. How could I forget?

He casually strolls around the piano and comes up next to me. My heartbeat grows quicker and quicker the closer he gets. It feels as if my feet are glued to the floor, stopping me from bolting away. I keep one shaky hand glued to the smooth, cool rim of the piano. Pianos have always been my security blanket when I'm stressed for as long as I can remember.

He grins and extends his hand. "I'm Cole Flynn, nice to meet you."

I swallow back the painful lump in my throat. "Melody." His large hand is warm and soft, contrasting with my small and suddenly very cold hand.

His sapphire eyes widen for a second, and it's as if a lightbulb lights up above his head. "Oh! You must be the famous musician I've been looking for," he chuckles. I bite my lip, I definitely don't like the sound of that. "I write for U of M's newspaper, we wanted to get an interview with you for the next issue's arts and culture section."

How in the world did they even know I'd be here? "I-I'm sorry but n-no," I mumble and shake my head. "I don't do interviews."

He gives me a puzzled look. "Err, yeah I noticed. Why not though?"

None of your business. "I just don't," I murmur. "I'm sorry but I need to practice."

He doesn't seem to take the hint. Or maybe he does and he's just stubborn. "Oh, it'll be quick I promise." He flashes me a charming smile and opens the light grey notebook he's carrying.

I gulp and regain control of my legs to take a wobbly step back. I feel like a helpless baby bird nudged out of the nest too early, exposed to the terrors of the real world without anyone to protect me. Where is Mr. Carter? I silently pray for him to hurry back, desperately glancing at the door. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides a tiny, terrified squeak.

"Huh?" He looks confused but also amused at my unintentional impression of a mouse.

Heat rushes to my face, and I bite my lip so hard I nearly draw blood.

Before I can say anything, we both slightly jump at Mr. Carter's voice. I somehow feel simultaneously relieved and on-edge. "Excuse me, you shouldn't be in here." His blaring voice echoes through the room. He looks a bit confused when he sees Cole. "Oh, it's you again."

"Um, Mr. Carter, could you get him to leave, p-please?" I ask meekly.

Cole slightly raises his hands innocently, with a small smirk on his face. "Ok, ok, I'm leaving." He turns back as he's leaving and gives me a quick wink out of Mr. Carter's view. I feel my face flushing, and my gaze drops to the floor.

"Are you alright Ms. Aria?" I feel Mr. Carter gently touch my shoulder.

"I'm fine. He wanted to interview me for the university's newspaper. I said no but he wouldn't leave." I grimace and slump back onto the piano bench. It clearly seems like he's used to girls swooning at his smile. He exuded unwarranted confidence. Nice try but it's not going to work on me.

"Ah I see. Any idea how he knew where to find you?" Mr. Carter asks with a concerned frown.

"No idea." I shake my head. "I'd like to go home soon, I'm just going to play one more piece." He nods and returns to his spot outside.

I quickly rub my hands together to get the blood flowing to my icy extremities again. It's been years since Mr. Carter and I have dealt with someone as persistent as Cole. I shudder as I recall the guy who snuck onto my tour bus and hid in the closet. Taking in a deep breath, I rest my palm over my heart, feeling the uncomfortable pounding slowly growing milder.

I play the piece I wrote eight years ago, heavily inspired by Rachmaninoff's Etude-tableau No. 5, Op. 39. I wrote it one evening after mom and I had a bad argument. We had just gotten home from an interview I purposely bombed so they wouldn't be able to broadcast it. Jokes on me though, they broadcasted it anyways, and just cut out the part where I stormed out. I was just sick and tired of being in front of cameras and dealing with everything that came with it.

I push away all of the aching thoughts and focus on my playing instead.

Sometimes keeping myself busy is all I can do to make life tolerable.

-----

We walk into the unnecessarily lavish apartment mom leased. I was just looking for a small two bedroom apartment, or two studios so Mr. Carter could be next door. I guess I should've expected as much from mom.

"Goodnight Ms. Aria, please let me know if you need anything." Mr. Carter says before heading to his bedroom right by the front door.

I wish him goodnight before walking down the hall to my room. It's ridiculously big, much bigger than I'd ever need my room to be. The tall floor to ceiling windows give an amazing view of downtown and the horizon of twinkling lights. A small chandelier hangs high on the ceiling, and each crystal projects sparkling lights against the walls. I couldn't be bothered to properly tour the apartment yesterday, I still can't be bothered tonight. Fancy furniture, fancy architecture, and fancy décor - I get the gist. It's mom's style, not mine.

I leave the heavy bags of decorations I bought in the corner of the room. I'll deal with it tomorrow, today was arduous enough. Who wouldn't love to be terrorized on their first day off in twelve years?

I flop onto my bed, and my phone starts buzzing.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mel! How did you like the campus?"

How did Alyssa even get my number? "It was an...experience. It was weird, some guy who somehow knew I would be there showed up."

There's a short pause before she chuckles a little. "Tall, brown hair, blue eyes, carrying a notebook?"

I bury my face into a pillow and groan. "You're behind this?"

"Not on purpose!" she giggles. "My boyfriend is the editor in chief of the school's newspaper. I just made an off-handed comment about my famous musician cousin visiting! I found out afterwards that he had assigned Cole to meet you."

"Alyssa," I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. "You know I'm a private person when it comes to my music for a reason."

"Aw I'm sorry Mel," she apologizes with her sad puppy dog voice. I can't see it but I'm sure she's making the face as well. I grin, remembering the things we got away with as little kids by using that look. "He's cute though, right? If I weren't dating Michael..."

I groan again. How are we related? "I'm staying here to take a break, not look for a relationship. The last thing I want right now is the stress of dating."

"You take things too seriously Mel," she playfully scolds me. "You're nineteen! Live a little!"

I don't know what she's talking about. "I've lived plenty. I've traveled the world, met incredibly talented musicians, played in famous theatres, composed dozens of pieces, and won a Gramophone Award - all before the age of twenty."

"Real humble too," she snorts. "Come on, you never socialize with friends your age!"

I feel my stomach sink. "I have my reasons, you know that," I mumble.

"Oh, um yeah. Sorry Mel," her tone softens, "I'll talk to you soon, yeah? Get some rest."

"Night Alyssa."

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Melody needs to be protected at all costs 🥺

I love the piano even though I'm not great at it haha, do you guys play any instruments?

Thanks for reading! :)