Spellbound

Chapter 2 - Grave

TW: This chapter gets really sad. Stephen, you know, is a surgeon, and a small kid gets put onto his table. I'm slightly spoiling because I don't want to upset anyone, and I want you to be aware of what is being discussed. Please skip over this chapter, or only read until Stephens text back to you if this will make you upset. This chapter deals with child abuse and child death, and the effects it has on Stephen.

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grave: slow, solemn

Rolling out of bed, you slammed your hand down on your phone, cursing the stupid alarm. Forcing yourself to sit up, you stretch your shoulders, groaning as they cracked and popped.

You flinched at the contact with the cold hardwood floor. "God, I need to invest in some carpets," you said to the empty air. Grimacing, you put both feet on the floor and made your way over to last night's clothes that you had haphazardly strewn about.

You had missed the basket by a good foot and a half.

Cleaning up, you got prepared for the day, taking a quick shower to get the residual makeup off your face. Stepping out, you finished your body care routine, finishing it off with your favorite body lotion.

Today would be a casual day: Just practice at home for two-ish hours, go to a recording session for some movie score, and then perform at an outdoor wedding. So casual. Nothing stressful whatsoever.

You decided to get ready early for the recording session, not wanting to have to rush out the door and be late. You put on a similar outfit to last night, just without all the jewelry. You put your hair up in a style that would keep it out of your face and allow you to comfortably wear headphones.

Wait.

Last night.

Damn. What a mood-killer.

Sighing, you internally debated calling Stephen right now. But what the hell would you say? "Hi, Stephen! We almost kissed last night. Wanna come over and finish the job?"

No.

Well...

No.

Picking up your phone, you checked your notifications. Maybe Stephen texted you? You scrolled mindlessly through the notifs, not wanting to get your hopes up. You saw mostly emails and random socials, but other than that it was pretty boring. Well, besides the 200 dollars you were paid last night for performing at the charity event. Not bad for performing one song. You should start accepting more requests from rich people.

But alas, there was nothing from Stephen. So you decided to send your own text, cause that's what friends do. Right?

hey. just checking in with you. hope everything went well last night.

text me back when you have the chance :)

Heading downstairs, you grabbed your cello and your new music. You loved to sight-read music, but today it felt more like a chore. Glancing over the sheets, nothing stuck out to you as particularly hard, but you still felt a sense of dread of having to play it.

The music was definitely inspired by John Williams, and it was for a new fantasy show that was coming out in a year. You weren't allowed to know what show it was, and personally, you didn't really care.

Placing the delicate hairs of your bow on your string, you went to play, and the first measures went by smoothly. Then you hit a 16th note run, and your mind just died.