"Oh sorry, hang on." Cole stops playing to take his ringing phone out of his pocket. He furrows his brows at whatever is on his screen.

I pause the metronome.

"Hey Mom, what's up?" His lips pull into a tight line as he listens. "Really?" He mouths sorry to me before quickly stepping out of the room to continue his call.

I wonder what that's all about. I shut the piano lid and plop myself onto the sofa. We were just about finished for today anyways. I turn on the TV and begin absentmindedly scrolling through movies to watch.

Cole slowly walks back in, seeming completely absorbed in his own thoughts. He wordlessly sits down next to me and stares blankly into space.

I tilt my head curiously. "Everything ok?"

"My parents and sisters are visiting this week," he mumbles. "It's so like them to just spring last minute plans on me."

I wait quietly for the bad news, until I realize that's all it is. It's much smaller of an ordeal than I had expected. Based on the vexed look on his face, you'd think his mom just told him something catastrophic.

"Why are they visiting?"

"They want to have a celebration dinner for my younger sister." I look at him expectantly, but it doesn't look like he wants to talk about them. He slowly blinks a couple times before turning to me. "I don't know if I want to go."

I feel a slight twinge of jealousy and irritation. I bite my tongue to stop myself from scolding him. What I wouldn't do to have a big family to spend time together with. Cole does, and he's considering just blowing them off?

I give his arm a gentle squeeze. "I think you should. They're your family."

He lazily tips his head back and leans against the sofa's headrest. "I don't know, Mel," he mutters, staring blankly at the ceiling. He slowly turns towards me. "Would you want to come?"

I resist the urge to immediately decline - as I've always done with invitations. I swallow back the painful lump in my throat. "Why?"

"I would feel a lot better with you there." He smiles but there's a clear sense of discomfort in his tone.

I fidget with the throw pillow sitting on my lap. "Why? Is there something up with your family?"

He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, keeping his hand resting on the back of his neck. "We just... don't really get along sometimes."

I can't imagine someone like Cole not getting along with his family. If they're anything like him, how bad could they be?

"Plus my older sister is a huge fan of yours," he adds.

My stomach sinks and I pull my legs up onto the sofa to tuck them against my chest. I hug my knees, trying to squeeze myself into a smaller ball - wanting to disappear. The connection between my personal and professional life is becoming stronger and stronger every day. I don't exactly know how I feel about that, but I do know it's sending terrified trembles through my body.

"I'm not comfortable with that," I mumble.

"Ah, right." Cole rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I can talk to her ahead of time, make her promise to not...interrogate you about your work," he says and gives me a soft charming smile.

"When will you realize that look isn't going to get you anywhere?" I scoff, playfully nudging him.

His face turns red. "Sorry, habit," he murmurs. "Please Mel?" He rests his warm hand over mine.

It's bizarre seeing him like this. Sort of...fragile and hesitant. Someone who looks like they need reassurance that everything is going to be ok. It's a stark contrast to the usual Cole I've gotten used to. It gives me an uneasy feeling in my stomach, an even worse one than just a moment ago.

"Alright," I say, "but we have to go over some conversation topics and questions that are off limits."

-----

Mr. Carter and I step into the elegant, fine-dining restaurant. As much as it bothers me, a sense of normalcy sinks in. Most of the restaurants I go to back home are like these. The dim candlelight, white tablecloths, classy décor, and polished silverware with multiple forks and spoons at each seating. Once you've been to one, you've been to them all.

The host is a bubbly young girl with jet black hair and dark brown eyes. "Flynn for six thirty?" I ask when I approach the podium.

"Perfect, the rest of the party just sat down!" She leads me into the dining room.

Mr. Carter gets himself a table near the side of the restaurant. "Good luck Ms. Aria," he whispers and gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder. "If they're anything like Cole, you're going to need it."

I roll my eyes and laugh - feeling the anxious knot in my stomach untwist. I don't know how I managed to function during the four years between losing dad and mom hiring Mr. Carter.

I quickly catch up to the host. Cole's family is seated at the corner of the restaurant right by a large grand piano. There's a man dressed in a suit playing some popular classical songs. He's currently playing Moonlight Sonata.

"Hey Mel!" Cole quickly stands up to pull my chair out. He touches my lower back and mumbles quietly into my ear, "thanks a lot for coming."

He's wearing a light blue dress shirt tucked into black slacks and his hair is styled. He clearly looks uncomfortable, even in semi formal clothing. After years of long fancy gowns, semi formal is a breeze for me. The air against my bare legs in a short dress feels so liberating compared to the feeling of drowning in silk and lace.

"Hi! I'm Trisha." The girl sitting to my right almost immediately extends her hand to shake mine once I've sat down. She gives me a very tight and enthusiastic handshake. Her expression looks strange, sort of like the way someone looks when they're trying to suppress a cough. I feel slightly guilty, I presume she's holding in tons of things she wants to say. The corners of her lips keep pulling upwards as she tries to stop an exuberant smile from spreading across her face.

Her resemblance to Cole is uncanny. Slightly wavy brown hair, olive skin, and stunning blue eyes. "Nice to meet you, I'm Melody."

"I know," she squeaks in a tiny, high pitched voice, barely concealing her excitement.

"Calm down Trish," Cole says sternly.

"It's nice to meet you Melody, I'm Charlotte." Cole's mom gives me a friendly grin. She's wearing a black dress with a white blazer on top, her brown hair is perfectly smooth and shiny, and her makeup looks skillfully applied.

"I'm Jim," Cole's dad says. He's dressed just as sharply as her; a grey sports jacket with a white dress shirt underneath. Unlike the three of them, he has dark brown, nearly black, hair and chestnut brown eyes.

I'm starting to understand where Cole got his looks from. His parents look like they stepped straight out of a fashion magazine - it's almost intimidating how perfect they look. I'm sure they were even more attractive when they were my age.

"I'm Isabelle." The girl sitting diagonally across from me gives me a cheerful wave. She looks just like Cole's dad.

I politely greet them and settle into my seat. I place the dark ruby cloth napkin on my lap and take a sip of water. "So what's the occasion tonight?" I ask curiously. Cole still hasn't told me. I couldn't tell whether he actually didn't know what was happening, or he just didn't want to tell me. I assume the latter.

"I got into my first choice college!" Isabelle states proudly. "Princeton."

"Plus all of the other colleges she applied to," Charlotte adds.

I raise an eyebrow. "Already? It's only December." I suppose I'm not exactly one to talk, I was accepted to Julliard when I was fourteen.

"She was offered early acceptance to all of the schools she applied to," Charlotte explains, giving Isabelle a side hug. "We're so proud of you honey! Straight-A honor roll student, multiple scholarships, student council president, cheerleader captain, and first chair violin."

Jesus Christ.

"Remember when you got into U of M, Cole?" Charlotte chuckles. "I was amazed you had actually gotten accepted with your track record in high school. You were so lucky."

Cole just stares at the table and mumbles something under his breath.

Trisha rolls her eyes. "Aw, don't tease him Mom."

"How have you been doing, Trisha?" Jim turns to her.

"I'm good! I forgot to mention, I got the residency position I told you about a couple months ago!" she exclaims.

"That's my girl." Jim beams proudly.

"What did you study?" I ask.

"I recently got a PhD in neurology," Trisha explains. "Now I'm training to become a neurologist."

Alright, Cole's sisters are admittedly incredible. I do my best to hide the intimidation on my face. I'm suddenly glad I'm an only child, I'd hate to grow up being compared to siblings. I saw what it was like for Alyssa, being the youngest of four kids.

A server comes to take our orders. Cole's family orders confit de canard, poulet basquaise, gigot d'agneau pleureur, and bouillabaisse - all with perfect accents. Cole orders, and I think it's safe to say that he is... probably not bilingual.

"How's the...err," Jim pauses for a moment, dragging his palm against his jaw - the exact same way Cole does it, "writing going, Cole? You're majoring in publishing, right?"

"Dad," Isabelle whines, "he's studying journalism, remember? He's been telling us since his first day at university!"

"Close enough," Cole mutters, barely looking up from his plate. "It's going fine."

I stare at him blankly. That's it? Just fine? I give Cole a concerned look that he doesn't acknowledge. I take a deep breath to calm myself when I realize what I need to do. "Cole's showed me some of his old pieces from The Green and Gold," I speak up. "I think he's really talented."

"That's very kind of you to say," Charlotte says, taking a small sip of wine. "How about you Melody? Trisha says you're a musician?"

"Not just a musician!" Trisha exclaims. Her face turns pink when everyone sitting within a ten foot radius turns and stares at her.

I'm sure I don't look any less embarrassed. I take a sip of my ice water, trying to cool my burning face.

Charlotte sighs and shakes her head. "I'm very well aware of who she is, Trisha. I was trying to be polite, Melody clearly isn't one to boast."

I don't know what to do besides give her a small nod. Things are going just about as well as I expected them to - for me at least. No matter though, I'm here to support Cole.

Jim peers at us from above his glass of whiskey before he places it back down. "So you two are...dating?"

I quickly shake my head. "No, we're just friends."

"Ah, and here I thought our Cole had finally settled down with a nice girl," he laughs. "You should've seen some of the girls he's dated."

Cole scowls and mutters something under his breath. I wince a bit. His parents aren't mean per se, just a bit ignorant. I glance at Cole again, but he doesn't turn and just keeps his eyes fixed on his plate.

By the time we've finished our entrees, I've lost track of the things his parents have teased and criticized him about. Pretty much his entire existence seems worthy of criticism to them. For some reason, Cole just takes it. I feel my blood slowly starting to boil the longer it goes on.

Just as Jim begins a story about a time Cole dated a girl that Charlotte describes as airheaded and ditzy, I feel something in me snap. That's it. I drop my fork back onto my plate, letting it land with a jarring clank.

"H-hey," I raise my voice a bit more than intended.

Everyone at the table suddenly turns their attention towards me. I gulp, already feeling heat rush to my cheeks. My mouth opens to speak, but I fail to put together a coherent sentence when I realize I have no idea what to say next. I probably should've thought this through first.

Cole looks at me for the first time in over an hour. He blinks a couple times, as if he's pulling himself out of a deep daze. "What is it, Mel?"

I frantically scour my mind for something to say. "Err, Trisha, do you have a favorite piece?"

"Hmm." She purses her lips and drums her fingers on the table. "Oh yes, Schubert's Waltz in B minor!"

"Oh?" I'm caught off guard for a moment. "I can't say I was expecting that." I would've thought she'd enjoy something that matched her upbeat personality.

"My fiancé and I used to be competitive ballroom dancers. We met at a class, and that was the first song we danced to." She excitedly clasps her hands together and holds them close to her chest. "It's going to be the song for our first dance at the wedding! Isn't that exciting?"

I try to match her excitement, but I really can't. I've never been big on weddings. "Would you, um, like me to play it for you?" I gesture towards the piano.

Isabelle's mouth drops open a little, and she stares at me with wide eyes. "Do you just have, like, every classical song memorized?"

That would be quite a feat, but I don't. That doesn't mean I don't have a ton though.

Trisha angrily shushes Isabelle and turns back to me. Her eyes are lit up like those of a child on Christmas morning. "Oh my goodness, yes please. That'd be amazing!"

I nod and take a deep breath. I feel my heart start to pound in my ears like a deafening drum. It takes all the willpower in the world to slowly get up from my seat and begin taking stiff steps towards the piano. It feels like I'm a robot and someone else is controlling my feet.

I can't believe I'm doing this on my own volition. Have I gone crazy?

Melody, stop. That's not how life works. You're looking out for your friend - that's more important than worrying about yourself.

I lightly tap the shoulder of the man playing the piano. He looks like he's in his early fifties maybe, dressed in a tuxedo that doesn't fit properly. He's playing Vivaldi's Four Seasons. I can't help but feel for the poor guy, having to play all of the overplayed songs.

He turns towards me and stops playing. "Yes, Miss?"

I awkwardly fidget with the hem of my dress. "Hi, um, I was wondering if I could play a song. My friend over there wanted to hear something." I point to Trisha. She excitedly and waves when he looks at her.

He sighs in relief. "Yeah, go ahead. I need a break anyway." As he's about to step away from the bench, he pauses and leans forward to take a closer look at me. "Do I know you from somewhere? You look strangely familiar."

My heart skips a beat and I quickly shake my head. "Probably not, I think I just have one of those faces, you know?"

He just shrugs and walks away.

I sit down and rub my clammy hands against my dress and tuck my curled hair behind my ears. I close my eyes and mentally go through the song before I begin playing. I can't for the life of me remember the last time I played it. Luckily, it's a relatively simple song. Nothing out of the ordinary that would attract people's attention. It's quite relaxing in fact. It's been quite some time since I've played just for enjoyment and not work.

The nerves easily fade away as I play, and my consciousness gets lost in the music. I've always loved watching the graceful and smooth movements of a waltz. I picture Trisha dancing at her wedding. I'm sure she'll have a beautiful gown in an extravagant venue. I've been hired to play at weddings before. Definitely not my favorite type of performance. The couples are always all lovey dovey with each other and say the cheesiest things. I always thought love was overrated.

I'm not so sure about that anymore though.

In my peripheral vision, I notice Trisha taking out her phone and pointing it at me. My muscles tense up and my fingers fumble, pressing several wrong keys. I wince, it's my version of hearing nails on a chalkboard. Cole quickly snatches the phone out of her hands and it looks like he's scolding her.

My erratic heartbeat relaxes, and I play the rest of the song with ease. I quickly scurry back to the table once I've finished.

Trisha pulls me into a tight hug when I sit down. "Thank you Melody, you're so amazing!"

I glance at Cole. He's staring at his plate, still sulking. The topic shifts from Cole, luckily. Trisha spends the rest of the night talking to me about music and my work. It's incredibly uncomfortable and was meant to be off-limits, but I'd rather it be me than Cole.

I speed walk to catch up with Cole in the parking lot. It took Trisha an unbelievably long time to finally finish gushing to me, with some help from Isabelle who had to practically drag her into their car.

"Cole? Are you ok?"

He stops and turns around. His lips are pulled into a straight, thin line and he doesn't look me in the eye. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Just... fine?" I gently touch his arm but he pulls away.

"Yeah. I'll... I'll see you tomorrow Mel," he mumbles and heads towards his car without looking back.

--------------------------------

I'm so proud of Melody 😭 I'm sure a lot of people can relate to Cole though 😥

Thanks for reading! :)