Choices We Cant Make

four: queen

I'm sitting on a leather stool, and in front of me are a set of beautiful black and white keys- awaiting my conquer.

The boss. The Blue man - is awaiting my conquer.

I shiver- but I do not shiver on most occasions. If there is anything I can do, without wasting a single second in tending to my nerves- its playing my keys.

I write. Of course I write, but sometimes, and a lotta times I sing. It keeps a part of my mind alive. Somehow.

I decide to play "love of my life" by Queen. And every time I have played it at home, I always cry thinking about Sam. Tonight I do not. It does not occur to me, that I have spent an entire 3mins performing the room- without a single thought about who Sam is- who Sam was.

I pretend as if the world is full of a way bigger agony and just for those 3 minutes I need to show the world, Blue's world- how amazing music can be.

Blue.

Blue stands there- taking it all in. I can't say much from his expressions. I start to think, that he just asked me about the piano as a way to be friendly.

Blue is not friendly.

He says "You should anchor your hands forward and maintain a better tempo. Your legato's are way too long. And you dont use the sustain pedal they way you ought to. Otherwise- its good."

BLUE I DID NOT ASK FOR YOU CRITICISM. But-okay.

I do't say anything in return. I never even wanted to try to impress him. He clearly, doesn't want to be friendly. But for some reason I want him to like me. I think he saw me bite my lips in distress

"Im sorry. I didn't mean to criticize. Shall we talk business?" he says in a more comforting manner.

I think he was trying to be mean to me, in order to see if I get pissed or not. He interrupted me, asked me to perform and didn't even thank me for fulfilling his offer.

Anyways-

"Yes. You would like me to write a book about Mr. Gregory Becker?"

"Precisely" As he says this, Im still sitting on my leather stool and he makes his way across the room. The front door was still open, he goes ahead and shuts it.

He shuts away that very door that stopped me being in his bedroom become awkward.

He looks at me in the eyes and says "Why are you wearing this top?"

WHAT DOES HE MEAN BY THAT.

Suddenly Im conscious. Suddenly I feel unsafe. Ugh. I stand up and am about to leave

"This doesn't sound like any of your business- our business"

"Sit."

It is a command. Now, I WANT TO LEAVE.

I LEAVE.

I sway open the door and run out. I look behind and Blue is slowly pacing his way to me. Before he gets to me, I enter the elevator and as the doors shut I see him angry. Very very angry.

I reach the ground and run into the crowd and disperse. I search for Sam. Sam is no where to be found. He has dissolved somewhere in the crowds. Towards the bar I see Suzy on phone with someone- I see her staring at me, looking worried and perplexed. She is about to ask for me, when I immediately turn to the exit and leave.

I can hear a faint "Violet- stop" But I ignore it. I walk past the exit. I enter a mall parking complex.

SHOOT.

SHOOT.

My coat. My coat is still with that old man. I still have my coat card with the number 423. Wow.

Now I cant even get back.

Im cold. And almost topless, with the way this red affair attaches to me. Ugh. This top ruined my night.

Anyways I enter the mall and run inside a changing room. I lock myself in and breathe.

I open my phone

7 texts.

12 missed calls.

3 mails.

(Not my life~)

But before I can respond to any of them, I book a cab and wait for it to come.

The 12 missed calls are from home.

When I see the words "Aunt Arma" in red. 12 fucking Times. I call her.

My heart is racing. It is 11PM

She called me at 10.

12

FUCKING

TIMES

Who died?

"Hello Aunt Arma . Is everything alright?" I ask- worried.

"No. Open your door. Im standing here since 8. I came to surprise you. Come home"

NO. NO. HELL NO.

She cant see me with this attire.

I purchase the shirt I had taken for trial. The shirt I never actually tried. The shirt that is 2 sizes above mine. The shirt I faked to have liked in order to shut myself in.

Once I reach the parking lot, I slid my newly purchased mens shirt on and I sit in the car.

4 texts are from Sam. No wonder.

3 from an unknown number. The texts read

Him: I require you to come to my office tomorrow at 10AM. Our business has not been exchanged. Further, I have a coat of yours you would probably want back

I am Blue.

Me: I am not interested in your business deal. And, you can send my coat through Sammuel Quinn.

Him: (immediately) I am not doing favors. Come here yourself.

Me: and what if I do not?

I am left seen-zoned. He knows I will not. But, I do not care.

OKAY MAYBE A LITTLE.

Im smiling the entire time. I feel desired.

ANYWAYS

Im home. And my aunt is outside- very very cross. I need to tend to her.