Behind the Curtains

+One+

 Dance and jazz. Those were her two passions, the only things that Annabelle really cared about in life. Well, dance, jazz, and her friend A.J. Holmes, who only fed into her jazz obsession. He was a beautifully talented musician. Their high school yearbook had interviewed him after he had won the school talent show their senior year, and Annabelle couldn't have been more proud.

"Look at you, Mr. Popular. I think those girls over there were checking out your butt," she teased. A.J. scoffed and rolled his eyes as he sat next to her in their usual corner table of the school library. The quiet was nice for both of them, especially after the barrage of standardized tests and finals that they had just finished.

"Very funny, smartass. They just think they like me. They have no idea of the madman that I truly am," A.J. said, making an odd face. Annabelle stifled a laugh as she pulled out a folder filled to the brim with sheet music.

"Well, madman, I happen to know that very well, and it only makes me want to stick around more. Now, let's dive into this godforsaken mountain of music."

They had said they were going to wait to write their performance piece until summer. In fact, it was supposed to be their summer project: big road trip around the country, writing music and performing it wherever they could before college locked them into a schedule. Neither of them could wait.

They were both waiting to hear back from the colleges they had applied to. They had both applied to three, but they only had one in common: University of Michigan. To nobody's surprise, A.J. wanted to major in some sort of performing arts. He had applied to probably the most prestigious schools he could think of. Annabelle knew she had no chance of even consideration from those schools. She had a back-up plan to just work at their town library.

"I love how neither of us can read our own handwriting, but we can understand each other's perfectly," Annabelle laughed, sorting through the pile of papers on the table. Half of the papers, the ones with a small cursive 'AJH' in the top left corner, were put into a pile in front of Annabelle, and the other half, each with a printed capital 'BELLE' in the bottom right, were put in front of A.J.

"I need to actually teach you jazz piano. You write the music fo it beautifully, but you still have no clue how to play," A.J. proposed.

"Then I have to teach you sax. Ooh, we could make a little party out of it! I could make dinner and we could just have fun! Ok, we need to do this this weekend," Annabelle gushed, lightly pushing A.J.'s shoulder as she spoke. He laughed and held his papers tighter so he wouldn't drop them.

"It's Friday, so I could come over tonight and we could have the whole weekend. I'd have to run home to grab my keyboard, but other than that..." A.J. said. Annabelle smiled wider, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. It was little quirk that happened subconsciously when she was really happy or excited, and A.J. loved it beyond expression.

"We should go now," Annabelle said suddenly, shoveling the papers on the table back into the folder they had been taken out of.

"Woah, wait. Slow down. We still have 20 minutes until school's out," A.J. said, trying to calm her excitement.

"Who cares? I'm parked literally right outside, and this is study hall. It doesn't matter. Come on, let's go!" The last words of her excited rambling were almost inaudible, as they were said while she was running out of the library. A.J. frantically put his backpack together and ran after her, apologizing to the librarian as he passed.

The drive between the school and A.J.'s house was usually about 20 minutes, but in her excitement, Annabelle made it there in 11. She practically pushed him out of the car so he could grab his keyboard and get to her apartment. She only lived 5 minutes down the road from him, but once again cut her driving time in half.

"Ok, how do you not get pulled over every hour?" A.J. said, baffled by Annabelle's terrible driving. She ignored his teasing and unlocked her front door, running inside and throwing her stuff in the middle of the living room. A.J. followed close behind, setting up his keyboard in front of the couch.

Annabelle ran around like crazy, changing outfits, getting her sheet music and instrument together, and throwing together snacks that could hold them over until she made dinner in a few hours.

"Ok, jazz piano is ridiculous, so let's start you off with something easier, alright? Um... ok, here," A.J. took a second to remember the notes, then jumped into playing the song. Annabelle rolled her eyes when she processed what he was playing.

"I get it, you like Rent," she chuckled. Her laugh triggered his own, but he kept playing Seasons of Love despite her teasing. She watched his hands intently, studying the movement closely and mimicking it on her own thigh as he played.

"Here, come here," A.J. said, scooting over on the couch so they both had room to sit behind the keyboard. She moved in next to him and placed her hands on the keyboard. A.J. fixed her hand placement, and taught her the fingerings for the song.

They hadn't even realized it, but the more time they spent working on the song, the smaller the space between them grew.