The Pianist

Chapter Two

Molly Valentine was uncomfortable. Her hair was pulled back into a metal golden bow. Her chest was bound in a solid gold corset, bunching her lungs and intestines together painfully. Her black skirt poofed down below that, touching the floor in a rain of satin and silk. She had always hated to be dressed up like this, body tight and crammed into a metal casket for her ribs.

She stood in a straight line in the foyer to their skyscraper, listening. Her father was outside, schmoozing the waiting suitors. Molly was dreading this. Her father had informed her earlier that she was see each suitor individually tonight. Molly realized as she stood there, she could think of nothing to say.

Then, she could hear the brassy laughter of her father wrapping up the conversation with the three. He turned the door handle and ushered the three men into the foyer.

The first one in was Raymond Toivonen. He had been introduced to Molly at a different party several weeks ago for a few brief seconds. Raymond was the son of another incredibly powerful family of Empire who owned most of the city's mines. Molly's father could practically feel the potential wealth when the Toivonen's had announced their son as the first suitor almost a month ago.

Molly did not know him very well, except what she heard on the wings of rumor. She had heard Raymond was a very dark, very depressed man, suffering to overcome a tragic childhood nobody could understand.

The second guy was Robert Ballistic. Robert was notorious for his raging outbursts he often had when something didn't quite go his way. That alone made Molly want to turn him away, but when she had approached her father about this, Blaise had ignored her. Robert's family was notorious as well for their hardcore wrestling program where Robert was the poster kid. Blaise adored the idea of a partnership with the Ballistics, despite how Molly saw them.

Lastly, Franklin Ironical squirmed his small fram in the door, golden snow speckled goggles latched over his hazel eyes. Franklin's family were all great scholars, scientists, and philosophers. Molly's father had high hopes that under a shell of pure, cold sarcasm lay a big, concealed brain inside the third suitor.

The third began at one to Molly, ignoring the others, a red rose in his hand. His white teeth in a small grin. "You look absolutely ravishing tonight, Ms. Valentine," he said, pulling his goggles over his forehead. Molly simply smiled shyly, taking the rose in her hands. Frank seemed promising so far. He was certainly charming enough. Molly twisted the rose stem and noticed that whoever had plucked this red rose had filed away the thorns until they were little black mounds.

Robert stared enviously at Franklin who was watching Molly twist the rose. How dare that pretentious prep steal all the attention! The edges of Robert's ears were glowing red as he pushed over to where Franklin was, bumping him out of the way and stood before Molly.

"Good evening, Ms. Valentine," he said, taking her right hand and bringing it to his peach lips, delicately kissing her hand. Molly's mouth fell slightly open at his audacity as he lowered her hand. Robert had practically thrown Franklin out of the way to get to Molly.

"You're quite a nice man, aren't you, Ballistic?" Franklin said airily, regaining his balance. He straightened his goggles back onto his forehead, glowing with sarcasm.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Piss off, Ironical," Robert said, now dismissing Molly. He turned his whole body towards Franklin, taking his goggles in one hand, stretching the elastic out and then letting them snap against Franklin's head.

Molly watched in awe and disgust as the two bickered and picked at each other in the foyer. She noticed how Robert seemed to almost want to cause a fight with Franklin and how Franklin always had a catty response. There was nothing attractive about grown men who fought like children over a new toy.