𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧

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❝𝙄 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙨𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙨 𝙄 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙧.❞

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         A door creaked open, the hinges haven't been cleaned in years. Red-pink eyes scanned the dusty tables, his pale hand wiping the muck of age away from the prized brass instrument being held in an unkempt case. His ringed fingers opened the case gingerly, careful with the instrument. Although the case and the room around the instrument had started to slowly fall apart, it seemed as though it was in perfect condition, at least, for the last piece he would be performing tonight.

        Adjusting his red suit, loosening the tie quite a bit -- although not too much, as the man would rather not have his father yelling at him before the big party -- he sighed, his voice raspy and tired. It was showtime.

        The once quiet atmosphere quickly turned into that of a place he'd rather not be at. The ballroom in the mansion held hundreds of people, all there to see him. As soon as he had pushed the grand, dark-stoned trimmed door open, all eyes glided over to him. He let a charming, but fake, smile onto his face, the woman in the crowd murmuring the loudest. After all, that was why the majority of the people were here, to try and woo him and become his fiancee.

        Going over to the area where the stairs were, he didn't head down them yet, opting to stay up for his performance. His dark, long hair was neatly tied up today, so it would not get in the way of his performance. Closing his eyes, he held the saxophone close to him and started playing. Once he had opened his eyes again, he could hear the furious clapping of the party attendees, awed by his talent.

        It had been a long time since he had felt that happy. Of course, that happiness was deflated as soon as the first person started to approach him, after going down the stairs.

        "Maurice, that was a lovely performance! I almost forgot how talented you were, after all these years," a woman who looked to be in her sixties exclaimed. That woman was Penny Lynn, his first, and last, music instructor.

        "Thank you, Ms. Lynn," Maurice replied, wanting to keep the conversation short. The last time he had had a real conversation with her was when he had messed up a note, and Penny had gotten furious to the point where she slapped the saxophone out of his hands. Maurice could still remember the cold words she had stated to him that day.

        "Your father begged for me to teach you! The least you could do is show an ounce of respect to the piece you are playing. It is a wonder to me how fools like you even think you stand a chance in the music industry! All of my students have mastered each and every piece I've assigned to them in less than three months. They have talent. You do not. I suggest quitting before you hurt yourself."

        "Ah, I must go greet the other guests, Ms. Lynn. It was a pleasure seeing you again," Maurice stated, before walking away quickly. He had zoned out during the conversation, only being able to focus on the terrible memories he had made with his first teaching instructor.

        Many more people surrounded Maurice, asking him about his playing on the saxophone and potential marriage candidates he had sought out for so far. Once again, Maurice put on that charming smile that people seemed to fall for but adored oh so much. And once again, he was surrounded by people, but never felt more alone.

...

        Maurice wasn't one to host parties, much less attend them, so it was clear that there was something special going on in the Quinn Household that dark evening. Though nothing could surprise the guests more when Maurice announced that he had hosted this party to find a fiancee. The aloof woman attending the party proceeded to try and flock Maurice after the news. Of course, this was not his idea, nor did he want this. His family wanted him to get married as soon as possible to further the Quinn name, and while Maurice was in no way a pushover, he always listened to his parents.