When All Is Said And Done

Chapter One: Resonance Of The Past

The grand ballroom of the historic Swedish Royal Castle was ablaze with lights, a kaleidoscope of glittering chandeliers and shimmering gowns. The annual Winter Gala had attracted the crème de la crème of the city's cultural elite, a melting pot of artists, patrons, and the occasional hopeful social climber. As the soft strains of a string quartet filled the air, guests mingled, their conversations a gentle hum against the backdrop of elegant opulence.

Benny Andersson was attending for the first time since his association with the pop group, ABBA. He never had cared much for grand events such as these. Benny, despite the pride he felt for his success, always felt an overwhelming sense of imposter syndrome, never feeling like he belonged amongst the Stockholm elite. Holding firmly the half empty glass of red wine he had taken from a passing waiter, he couldn't help but focus his attention on the string quartet playing the song that he had been commissioned to compose especially for the winter ball. He had taken the time personally to instruct the musicians on exactly how to play the piece and he smiled to himself as he watched them playing exactly to his instructions. To a perfectionist like Benny, attention to detail was everything.

Frida Lyngstad, the celebrated voice of Sweden whose talent had enchanted audiences from the world over, stood by the towering marble fireplace. She held a delicate crystal flute of champagne, her long fingers adorned with rings that sparkled in the soft light. Her red hair, swept into an elaborate updo, accentuated the elegant lines of her neck and the custom-made midnight blue gown that clung to her figure. Despite the many familiar faces and the warm greetings from well-wishers, Frida felt a sense of detachment, her mind wandering to the memories of a different time, a different place. Music filled the air as the rich and famous wandered around her. Amongst the chatter of the guests and the clinking on glasses, she instantly recognised the melody being played by the string quartet. This was a Benny Andersson melody, no doubt about it.

It had been nearly a decade since she had last seen him, the man who had once been the center of her universe. Benny Andersson, the prodigious pianist whose talent was rivaled only by his enigmatic charm. Together, they had been a force of nature, their work with ABBA the stuff of legend. But mistakes of the past had driven them apart, and their once inseparable bond had become a distant, bittersweet memory. Frida had a kind, gentle soul and she was always inclined towards forgiveness. She never clung to a grudge and always thought it to be more healthy to forgive and to move on. But some wounds, as she well knew, could be very slow to heal. Even a glimpse of one of his compositions made her feel twinges of heartache and pain. Benny had committed the ultimate betrayal. A betrayal he would begin to regret now more than ever.

As Frida scanned the room, her heart skipped a beat. There, across the crowded ballroom, stood Benny. His tall, lean frame was clad in a tailored black tuxedo that exuded an air of timeless sophistication. His hair, slightly longer than she remembered, framed his handsome features and those piercing beautiful eyes that had once looked into hers with such intensity. For a moment, the bustling room seemed to fade away, and all she could see was him. Benny, oblivious to the attention he was garnering from admirers, was engaged in a conversation with a distinguished-looking gentleman. Yet, as if sensing her gaze, he turned. Their eyes met, and the world seemed to pause. The years melted away, and they were once again the young, passionate artists who had conquered the world together.

A smile tugged at the corners of Benny's mouth, and Frida felt her own lips responding in kind. It was as if no time had passed, and they were back in that intimate bubble where music and love had intertwined so effortlessly. She took a deep breath, her mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions-joy, nostalgia, and an undercurrent of apprehension. What would he say after all this time? Benny moved through the crowd, his steps guided by an invisible thread that seemed to draw him closer to Frida with each passing second. The chatter around her became a distant murmur, the clinking of glasses and the rustle of gowns fading into the background. All that mattered to him was reaching her, bridging the gap that had grown between them over the years.

As he approached, Frida prepared herself to face his conversation, her eyes never leaving his. She took a step forward, and they stood face to face, the noise and the people around them fading into insignificance. For a moment, neither spoke, the silence charged with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

"Frida," Benny finally said, his voice a low, familiar melody that sent a shiver down her spine. "It's been a long time."

"Too long," she replied softly, her heart pounding in her chest. For a second she allowed her eyes to explore him. Benny looked well, she thought. Had he lost weight? If so, it suited him. His suit looked well fitted and complimented his body well. She glanced at his hands... the hands that had once held hers in a tight embrace. The hands that had once explored her body in every intimate moment. The hands that composed melodies of song and love.

Benny, with a reserved smile looked Frida up and down. He couldn't believe how beautiful she looked. Her elegance and grace left him with a feeling of nostalgia and excitement. How long it had been since he'd seen her, and how long since he had seen her perfect figure gracing such a ravishing gown. The neckline of her dress ran low and Benny couldn't help but notice. He instantly felt something inside of him. A longing, a desire, a feeling of arousal. His mind raced with a million memories. Every time he had ever gazed upon her flawless body. He knew and he remembered every perfect, sensual secret that lied beneath that midnight blue gown, secrets he instantly wanted to unlock once more. In that brief moment of pause, Frida felt his gaze and instantly recognised the look in his eyes. She knew what he was feeling, his eyes had always been a broad window into his thoughts and intentions. Within a second she felt reserved and moved her hand instinctually towards the necklace resting against her chest, drawing his attention a little further, her intentions only to taunt him. To taunt the look of lust in his eyes that she felt in merely a second. He gave her up all that time ago, he sure as hell wasn't going to get her back easily.

Their reunion was fraught with the weight of their shared history, the years of success and separation that had marked their lives. But in that moment, as they stood amidst the glittering grandeur of the Winter Gala, the past, at least for Benny seemed to fade away. Enamoured by her beauty once more, he took a deep breath. The clamor of the ballroom faded into a distant hum as Frida and Benny stood in their private bubble, the gravity of their reunion pulling them into a world where only they existed. For a moment, neither of them spoke, each lost in a tide of memories and emotions. With a deep breath and turning his head back up to reunite his eyes with hers once more... Benny breathed, "So how have you been?"