Music Strings • Luka Couffaine

|Chapter 25|

"Dear, you never told me you had a pretty looking boy toy."

Everyone went silent. The only thing that could be heard was the clicking of heels. All eyes were on her, it's af is she was a rare starbeam. A rare starbeam that doesn't expose herself to the public to much.

But nonetheless, here she is. Standing high and mighty. 

(M/N) (L/N).

Whispers started to whirl around. The sudden appearance of the greatest musician of all time, here in Paris definitely got everyone hyped.

"She looks even better in person!"

"I wonder if she'll accept autographs."

"Why is she here in the first place?"

"It probably has something to do with (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)?"

"They're related! Can't you guys see the resemblance?"

(Y/N) started tremble in her stace, her eyes were looking straight at her mother's. It was like a fierce battle of two tigers, just waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"Long time no see honey." (M/N) said, a small smile plastered on her face. (Y/N) flinched at the name she's been called, and then she heaves out a sigh. Trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

"Don't call me that (M/N)." She harshly said, only making (M/N)'s smile widened.

Another round of whispers came from down the crowd, they were all intrigued.

"It's her mother!"

"(Y/N)'s mom is (M/N) (L/N)? Lucky!"

"Maybe I should ask her to take the autograph."

"It's been such a long time sweetie! You've grown so much." (M/N) then said, clasping her hands in excitement.

(Y/N) could only cross her arms and roll her eyes, not buying that sweet motherly act she's doing.

"You would've seen me grown if you chose me instead of that jackass you call your boyfriend." (Y/N) retorted back, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Her shouting was intentional, she wanted everyone to hear how horrible of a mother she is.

(M/N) could only stare at (Y/N), her eyes were silently telling her things. Things that had her slightly disturbed, but she held her ground.

"So you wanna talk dirty now huh?" (M/N) then said, more to herself than to (Y/N).

She crossed her hands as well and then started to think, her eyes looking intently at (Y/N).

"Sooo honey, how are you coping without Emilia?"

(Y/N)'s heart halted to a stop when she heard the familiar name, her eyes as wide as saucers. Like a deer caught in headlights. Flashbacks started running down her memory lane, the memories of Emilia came rushing back to her.

Unshed tears started to block (Y/N)'s reverie. It's as if she was back to being the traumatized kid she is. Her mother looming up at her, her body sore and tired after still not pleasing her mother with a perfect piece.

And with that one hell of a scene, everybody started gossiping once more.

"She's crying."

"Is this bad?"

"What's happening?"

"This is a good snoop!"

After a few minutes, Clara then walked up the stage. Her eyes wide and frantic as she sees (M/N) up the stage.

"M-miss (L/N)! You aren't supposed to be here right now. The judges are supposed to be introduced after the voting." Clara then explains.

(M/N) snaps her head at Clara, her eyes were imma glare and she was clearly not happy with Clara interrupting their little chit chat.

"What? Can't I talk to my daughter?" She then asked, her tone of voice loud and demanding. She was obviously ticked off.

Clara didn't know what to say. She then looks at (Y/N)'s trembling from, eyes filled with daring tears that are ready to roll off her now red cheeks.

Clara felt remorse for the aspiring musician, this clearly isn't just some small chit chat if (Y/N) is in this state. A state of being vulnerable to harm.

"I'm not her daughter."

Eyes were now on (Y/N), mumble's and whispers could be heard. (M/N) acts offended by her remark, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"And you are definitely not my Mother." (Y/N) then added. Clara thought that that's enough drama for one day, she held her mic tightly in her hands, and then she heaves out a sigh.

"Miss (L/N). Please go back to the voting room before I call security. This is very immature of you." Clara then said.

(M/N) gave her a harsh glare, and then started tapping her heels on the cold hardwood floor of the stage. She was starting to get impatient and it's making her really pissed off.

Clara then whips out her phone, and then starting pressing familiar numbers. She then shows it to (M/N), her eyes glaring back at her.

"One last chance Miss (L/N). I don't want you harassing my kids like this." She then warns.

(M/N) rolls her eyes, and with one last look at (Y/N)'s trembling form. She was off, stomping her feet loudly, frightening the people who were unlucky enough to see her wrath up close.

She closed the doors shut, a loud thump could be heard. And that made (Y/N) feel at ease. Having her out of her made her feel like she was free once more, she could breath properly without having to worry about her mother.

"Heh." She then said. (Y/N) could feel her cheeks getting warmer. Then she touched her reddening cheeks, warm tears rolling down her cheeks.

(Y/N) felt a comforting hand on her shoulder, the hand was warm and oh so familiar. She looks up to see Luka behind her, silently comforting her in a way she's comfortable with. A small comforting smile was up his lips, telling her that he'll be there when he needs her.

"I think I need a break." (Y/N) then told him. Luka gives (Y/N) a small nod and then ushered her away.

Clara eyes them both, her eyes filled with sorrow. After all (Y/N) has been through today, she definitely deserves that break.