What He Wants

The Symphony

The symphony.

I take a look in the mirror in my room seeing my hair straying off into all directions. The sound of Metallica blaring in my background helps fuel my rush. The interview of a new school was in twenty minutes across town. An academy of performing arts for musicians such as myself. The rush was on to get ready and finish my dreadful curly hair. I grab my violin and know it is time to leave.

The door slams behind me as I rush off to take the city bus. I quickly pull my pass out of my pocket and climb on board. I take a seat next to an old Spanish woman with a pinched look on her face. I feel awkward and stare out the window. A pit of anxiety building deep in my gut almost as if I have to puke. The violin bag pulls to the side of me as I whisk out of the bus door.

The academy is a deep brown with a caramel trim covering the whole front of it. The school seems almost to be a small town. People were walking around wearing all different kinds of clothing some gothic, some prep, and some geek sheik. The whole place is seeming to be sky high and very intimidating.

I approach the large wooden doors to the stadium entrance. The crowds of people seemed to be endless. I spotted a man in a yellow uniform, I run up to him knowing it was security and that he might know where I am supposed to be. He pointed me to the back of the stage and told me to keep my Id presented when I go there.

I do exactly that. The first performance was already on stage and the sickness that was on coming hit me like a pound of bricks. I vomited all over the back stage. A medical examiner that was on the site came to see me. She gave me some stomach relief and wished me luck with my performance. The water I guzzle down now is helping wash away the lingering burn in my throat.

 “Ariana! You’re up!”

I grab my violin and take some steadying breaths. The red satin curtains moves over, I am staring at a long beautiful dark wooden stage, with the smell of citrus filling the air, and my palms stop shaking. I take a seat making sure to have eye contact with the judges. I grab the neck of my violin and begin to play a song I had written. I hear some “Awe” and “Wow”.

I finish playing my two minute long song, the judges, and the stadium give me a standing ovation. The feeling of relief is exciting and completely welcomed. I sit in the back of the room now listening to the other contestants playing their sweet tunes.

A man came from out of nowhere and took a seat beside me. He has a very pale even skin tone, his eyes seem almost a sky blue, his black curly hair covering most of his forehead, and his body is just too perfect. I can feel myself tensing everywhere. I’m nervous and don’t know what to say to him. I can feel that I’m blushing. It’s almost as if I can’t control myself at the sight of him.

“Hey there.” He greets.

“Hi.” Is all I’m able to choke out. This is completely random and awkward.

“You’re really a great musician, I have no doubt you’ll be accepted here.”

“Thank you… Do you go here? Or are you trying out as well?”

“I’ve been going here for quite some time.” I replies with a smirk. It almost like some hidden joke that I’m missing. “After your acceptance here, you should come find me. I’ve been wanting to show someone what I’ve been working on. It’s a piece that I think you’d like to hear.”

“How do you know that I’ll like it? You don’t even know me.” I question feeling a bit confused. He seems so calm and collected with me. Almost as if we are already friends.

“Just trust me. A great musician like yourself will appreciate it.” He grins and lifts himself up.

“What is your name?” I ask shaky.