Death and Transfiguration

Chapter 31

I didn't know what to do, so I fell back on what I always did when I didn't know what to do: I wrote more music. I returned home, and I experimented with the harmonies in the first movement, trying all kinds of techniques, anything that might free me from my influences, anything that might differentiate me from Bergmann.

However, originality is never something that comes easily, and no matter what I did, I always felt like I was copying off of some better composer, trying to capture whatever it was that had made their music tick, but it was never enough. I awaited some brilliant, innovative idea, some spark of genius, but it never came. As the hours ticked by, I wondered where I had gone wrong, why I couldn't come up with anything without relying on someone else's ideas, why I couldn't seem to free myself from Johann Bergmann's shadow.

I never touched the soprano solo.

Just before eleven, I put down my composition notebook, and I decided to go next door to check on Moreau. His room was silent - he'd just finished practicing - and when I knocked on the door, he shouted, "One minute! I'm still putting away my violin."

I waited for a minute or so, and then he opened the door, his violin case still half-open on the carpet, and he said, "What is it, Miss Brackenborough?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were doing alright," I said.

"I can assure that I'm perfectly fine," Moreau said. "Is there anything else?"

"Well...uhh..."

"Go on, Miss Brackenborough. You can ask me anything."

"What is it like?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What is it like falling in love?"

"I don't know," Moreau admitted. "I don't think I've ever been properly in love. Brief infatuations, for sure, but nothing serious." He then paused and asked, "Any particular reason for this line of questioning? Is there some special man in your life that I don't know about?"

I blushed, and then, after checking to make sure that no one could hear me, I whispered, "A girl, actually."

Moreau shrugged and said, "Honestly, I can't say that I'm all that surprised."

"I don't know," I said. "I've never really found any men that I've fancied, but I've also never felt this way about a woman before..."

"Let me guess," Moreau said. "It's Miss Valencourt, isn't it?" I didn't respond right away, but I turned beet red, which I'm sure gave away exactly how I felt about Léa. "Sometimes, it seems like every other woman in this city meets Léa Valencourt and then spontaneously decides that she fancies other women. I don't blame you, Miss Brackenborough - she is a nice-looking girl - but...be careful around her. She has quite the reputation for breaking hearts."

I thought about that for a moment, all of those stories about Léa and how she'd been with the entire population of Europe at one point or another, and I said, "I know, but we've been friends for so long. I'm sure she'll treat me differently because of that."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Mr. Moreau, have some faith in Miss Valencourt."

"I have every reason not to."

"You have to believe me. She's a good person once you get to know her," I said. I sighed and then, in an attempt to change the subject, I said, "Can you do me a quick favor?"

"What is it?" Moreau asked.

"I made some changes to the first violin part in the fourth movement of the symphony I'm working on," I said. "Could you play through it, just to make sure it's not too hard?"