Waiting to Exhale (Erik Destler Phan Fiction) ON HOLD

Chapter 3: First Lesson

     I go through a boring school day just as all the others. Yet I keep thinking of Mr. Destler and the ways I saw him. I can't wait to know him better! Today after this practice ends, I'll be with him, alone. Why am I so excited? For all I know he could just be an old pervert that wants me in his bed. There's no way though. This man shows compassion and shares the same love for music that I do. There's no way he could be so cruel and heartless. There's no way.

     Band practice drags along for what seems like forever. I've never felt that way before. But at the end I rush out the door to find Mr. Destler standing outside a black Dodge Challenger. I walk over and explain that I love this car. A lot. He explains his home is only about a mile away. I jump in the passenger seat after placing my trumpet in the backseat. We drive to his home. We go down an extremley long driveway and end up at this astonishing home. "It's so beautiful!" I exclaim. It was midnight black with the most amazing architecture I've ever seen. To describe it I'm at a loss for words. Anyone else would see this place as some forbidden haunted house. We drive through open gates that are shaped like eighth notes. "Simply Beautiful!" I once again exclaim. "I designed it mysef". "Every inch of it." he says. The car engine dies out and I reach behind me to grab my trumpet and Mr. Destler opens the door for me. I say thank you and we head into his home. I go through the door and I feel my jaw drop. He laughs lightly at my reaction and leads me into my apparent study room while slightly touching my back. I surely don't reject him.

     This room has papers everywhere. Music everywhere. Paradise to me for sure! I see a spot with a music stand and some trumpet music on there. I look over it and thinking, "Does he really think I can play these high notes?" As if once again reading my mind, he answers my question. "Just try it. It's possible, I promise." Very shakily I take out my trumpet and warm up quickly on a few scales, making sure to go the higher octave. "Amazing, and you're only warming up!" he says. "Try this please!" He practically throws the music to me. Scared of messing up, I slowly raise up my trumpet and I let that feeling rush into me. This song is so dark. It's nice but so many accidentals it's unreal! The song ends with a fermata so I hold the note which is extremley high until Mr. Destler cuts me off. Apparently he thought it would be funny to make me hold the note for 32 counts. When he finally decides to stop me I look up, likely purple in the face, glaring in a mean but friendly way. He starts laughing and it echos throughout the room. I officially love this man's laugh. When he finishes his chuckling he decides to give me a review.

     "That was amazing, beautiful! You seemed to pour your soul into the instrument! You are so much like me in so many ways..." His voice trails off as if he thinks about something unbelievable. He asks if I wanted us to get to know each other better."Sure Mr. Destler!" I exclaim a little more excitedly then I should've. He smirks at my enthusiasm and suggests we do over the piano. "That's where I learn most anything." he explains. "Do you play child?" "Oh, I wish I did, could you try to teach me?" I ask. "Whatever your heart desires, I will give mon amour." "I think I'd best search those words' meaning." I say. "Or you could let me tell you." he says in a half smirk. " Is it bad? Does it mean musician? What does it mean?" "I'll tell you in time mon amour."  "That is just just cruel Mr. Destler!" I exclaim. "Please mon amour, call me Erik." "Well Erik, My name is Megan and you may refer to me as such!" I say in a playfully angry tone.

     We go sit by the piano and talk about music and life and the darker things in life. We're like the same person, yet so different at the same time. He explains he's a singer also. "May I serenade you mon amour?" he asks nicely. I accept and he sings this song while playing the piano that brings tears to my eyes. I read the score and find that it's named "The Music of the Night". When he finishes he begins smiling uncontollably at the emotions he's brought out in me. I'm sitting over here crying wanting open arms to fall into and explain how I felt about his song *hint hint*. Reading my mind, he opens his arms and lets me in them. I tell him how nice that song is and how it practically explains my life. "It's 6:50, Megan we must go back to your school so your parents can take you home." he says in a sad tone, like he'll be lonely once I leave. Like he dreads it. Like that feeling haunts him. "Do you have practice tomorrow?" " No, now here's my address, it's a closed communtity so I must call in your visit." I explain. "I'll be there, I wouldn't miss it for the world." He smiles like he longs for the moment we see each other again.

     We get in his car and travel back to my high school and I see my parents waiting in their car. Testing out this word, scared of the signals I'll send I tell him "Goodnight mon amour." He smiles estatically and says "As to you mon amour." I hop out happily and go home, resisting the urge to check up on those words.  I have to get it from him personally. I go on my laptop and work on some songs I'm writing. Afterwards I lay my head down and think of Erik and I know he's going to be more than a tutor to me in the end.