A/N: I don't even know what took me. I mean, French is my mother tongue, I decide to write a one-shot to the best musical I've ever been to, meaning MOR, and I write it, and think it, in English. Right. Something is definitely missing in my head. ;)
The singer and the composer
Amelia Linski hated being late. Being late meant being taken as a woman of poor virtue. Like that woman that the great Mozart had been courting ages ago. She had heard her older sister talk about it countless times.
So now, she was running into stairs – something clearly not safe when someone wore those insane heels – to get to her audition.
On her way up, she stumbled into someone.
Someone with dark, really dark eyes. And eyelashes. And hair. And clothes.
She gasped, and quickly curtsied. "Master Salieri."
He waved his hand in the air and passed her without a word.
Amelia growled between her breath.
And resumed running.
The audition was extremely hard. Amelia wasn't the only girl to be there by a mile, and she wasn't well-known in Vienna. At all. Which was normal, after all.
But as soon as she stepped into the light and planted her blue eyes into those of the great composer Mozart himself, she forgot she wasn't the favourite.
The words left her lips at the same time as the notes. German wasn't her mother tongue – French was – but she had been translated the song, and knew perfectly what it talked about: a lot love. The kind of passion you only lived once, which consumed your very soul, and when it was over, took a part of you with it.
The notes ended.
A general gasp rumoured through the room.
And Mozart – the Mozart, the actual Mozart – got up and clapped. Her. Clapped her. Amelia Linski.
"That was...breathtaking. Miss?"
Amelia cleared her throat. "Linski. Amelia Linski."
The grey gaze of the musician lit. "Russian?"
She nodded. "Half-Russian, sir, by my mother. Half-French by my father."
"Well, Miss Linski, congratulations, and welcome in the company. You'll be perfect as Juliet."
You read right.
Mozart had decided to rewrite Romeo and Juliet. In German. And in opera.
And now, Amelia was Juliet.
Oh crap.
It was only an hour later. Amelia had been sitting in a salon for what felt like an entire era, but who dared ask a composer to hurry?
The man himself escaped the room, and sauntered to her, a glittering vest thrown on his shoulders. "Amelia, isn't it?" She nodded and got up. "Come with me. My wife Constanze will receive you for diner, and I long to know all about you." He smiled at her and outstretched his arm.
Amelia took it, gasping at what she was currently doing.
"Have you come here alone?"
She nodded. "Yes. My...my parents are both dead, sir. I'm living with my elder sister and her husband, here in Vienna."
"This was really reckless. You won't do that again. I won't have my Juliet abducted, certainly not since she is quite as charming as the original."
Amelia giggled in pleasure. "You don't mean that, sir."
He stopped, and turned to her, his brow furrowed. "But I do! And stop calling me sir, I feel like an ancient thing waiting to be thrown away. Call me Wolfgang." Then he resumed walking. "Or Master, when in public. I guess calling Wolfgang in public wouldn't be seen properly."
Amelia nodded. "Very well...Master."
"How old are you?"
Out of the blue, that question took her off guard.
She only answered one they were in the carriage that awaited for Mozart outside the theatre. "I'm twenty."
"And still single? That's a blasphemy!" He chuckled. "Constanze will not hear the end of it. She will try and find you a husband by the end of the month." Then he winced. "She got that from her mother. Unfortunately."
Amelia grimaced. "Please tell her not to. I'm really not ready to marry."
A glint lit into Mozart's eye. "What? Never been courted, have you?"
She snorted, quite unwomanly. "Yes, I've been courted! But by...total idiots."
"Ah, women and their idea of love. The man shall be talented, handsome and intelligent, or they won't hear the end of it. Times have moved fast..."
She made a face. "Come one, you're not that old."
He grinned. "No. I'm 33, bless you, and this was exactly how women thought of love when I started courting them. I rather thought of your parents. Did they never try to marry you off to someone?"
Amelia shook her head. "No, never. And I thank them for that. They married for love."
Mozart's gaze darkened, for an unknown reason. "Wise decision."
They remained silent for a couple of minutes more, until he started questioning again.
"Then, if you are single and never were either engaged or married, your interpretation of Juliet's last song was impressive. You put so much feeling into this, I believed it."
Amelia smiled sadly. "That's because I knew what I was singing about."
He leaned in and grinned devilishly. "Oh, now I'm intrigued."
She sighed and sat back into her seat, smoothing her dress for good measures. "Well, I was fifteen, he was twenty-one, and a musician. I was dying for him to look at me, just to look at me. Everytime we'd be sitting next to each other, my skin burnt to touch his. It was hell."
"What happened?"
Amelia's smile turned seriously depressed. "He married my sister."
Mozart huffed. "What an imbecile." Then he took her hand. "I shall find you someone worth your time, Amelia Linski, if this is the last thing I do! My Juliet needs her Romeo, without the sad ending."
She smiled kindly. "I think Wolfgang, that you're starting to become the best friend I've ever had."
"Then you haven't had many friends, my dear."
"That I haven't."
"Another thing to change, then." He kissed her knuckles and suddenly, the door of the carriage slammed open. They were there.
Constanze Mozart was a middle-height, wavy blonde-haired woman, with a small blonde boy gripping her robes, the striking image of her father though.
She walked to her husband and kissed his lips before turning to Amelia. "Wolfgang, you didn't tell me we had a visitor."
He chuckled. "I told you I'd come home with a Juliet, and this is her. Amelia Linski, meet my beautiful wife, Constanze, and little Franz. Say hello to the lady, Franz."
The boy gripped his mother harder, and moaned.
"Oh, right." Mozart rolled his eyes and grasped Amelia's hand, pulling her towards the house. "Come inside, we'll eat and talk and sing and eat and drink and spend the night up."
Amelia shared a knowing look with Constanze.
"Yes, well, he'll fall asleep by midnight."
Amelia sighed in relief.
Constanze had herself cooked diner – being from a relatively poor family had conditioned her for hard work - which consisted into chicken baked with tomatoes and purée. With wine.
Amelia had eaten better, but seeing as it had been cooked with heart, she didn't think it inedible.
Then, soon after nine, Wolfgang pulled her out of her chair and towards his study, to show her his early notes on her role.
That's when Amelia started asking.
"Wolfgang, I was wondering..."
He turned to her from his desk. "Ask away, Amelia, ask away!"
She smiled shyly. "Uh...how to put this? Have you found your Romeo yet?"
"Ah!" His gaze turned devilish. "Wondering who you're going to live with for the best of this year and the next, yes?" He chuckled. "I haven't found him yet, but it won't take long now. I have my best man on it."
"Master Da Ponte?"
He snorted. "Lorenzo knows his things about music and stage, but nothing about a good performer. No, not Lorenzo. Antonio."
Amelia gulped. "Antonio. You mean-"
"Yes, the one and only Salieri. Didn't you know we're friends, now?"
She nodded. "All of Vienna knows."
"Then nothing to fear. Your fate is in capable hands."
But she couldn't concentrate after that.
The image of the handsome – evilly handsome – man clad in black played behind her eyelids, and soon, she was prying again.
"Will Master Salieri supervise the play, Wolfgang?"
Mozart sighed and put his head onto his hands. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're in love." Amelia gulped, but he didn't notice. "No. Antonio helps me for minor things. The Emperor doesn't like the fact that we're working together."
"Why not?"
"Because. Salieri isn't the favourite anymore. I am. And it means he isn't really welcome anywhere now."
"Oh."
Amelia's gaze settled down on her hands, and she bit her lips. She still had quite a few questions to ask.
Mozart chose otherwise.
"Tell me, have you met Antonio?"
Her eyes snapped up, and she realised he had stood up and moved before her, clearly curious now.
Amelia nodded. "Briefly. While coming to the audition. I...I might have stumbled onto him on my way up."
"Ah, I see." He pointed a finger in her face. "And he waved your excuses away, like the gentleman he is, and now you hate him. Pure Antonio."
That's when Constanze opened the door, little Franz still glued to her. "Darling? Antonio's at the door. He says he's found your Romeo."
"At this hour?" Mozart hurried to the door, following his wife.
Half on his way down the stairs, he turned to Amelia, who was following, thinking of this opportunity to go home. "Do not even think of fleeing."
Master Salieri was clearly more friendly with Mozart than he had been years prior, when the young composer had arrived in the capital.
He was then sitting in the living-room, a pile of notes in hand.
And he was eyeing Amelia weirdly.
Which didn't go unnoticed.
"Oh, I think you've met our Juliet!" Mozart stormed in with a platter of drinks – absolutely not drinks to drink at that hour of the night when you were twenty. "Amelia Linski. Apparently, you've been into some kind of situation earlier at the theatre."
Salieri's alrealy dark eyes seemed to even darken. "Oh, yes. I remember now." Then his gaze left Amelia for good.
She gritted her teeth, and her hands balled into fists.
What an infuriating man!
Midnight rang.
And Constanze burst into the room, in her nightgown and a jacket over it.
"Wolfgang! For God's sake, Amelia needs to leave, now!"
Mozart seemed to snap out of the daze he constantly was in, and his eyes widened. "Oh, God, yes. Amelia, I'm so sorry."
He stood up, and turned to Salieri, who hadn't moved an inch. "I suppose you can't give her a lift, Antonio?"
The dark eyes didn't leave the note their were reading. "Absolutely not."
Amelia snorted. Openly, this time. "Yes, well, for a famous composer, you seem like a total idiot to me."
Salieri's gaze snapped at her, and reflected her glare at once. He didn't answer.
Mozart did. With a chuckle. "Well well, seems you won't be marrying our Amelia, Antonio!"
Then he pushed her by the small of her back before she said another word.
As soon as she was sitting in Mozart's carriage, Amelia's hand shot to her mouth.
She had just been snapping to the great Antonio Salieri.
Like that. Without any...warning.
She was an idiot.
She was an idiot for snapping like that.
And she totally was an idiot for thinking he was even more handsome when glaring at her.
Darn.
Weeks passed by, and Amelia never saw the likes of Salieri ever again. Even if she was then spending most of her spare time at the Mozarts, since Wolfgang either drive her back there after rehearsals, or she was going to visit Constanze.
The black-eyed composer rarely left her mind though.
She couldn't believe how obsessed she was with the man after he had been so...disagreeable.
Mozart found it adorable though.
Decided against all odds to get them to marry each other before the end of the year.
Which seemed impossible, since he avoided the likes of her with his life.
Soon, it was the première of Romeo and Juliet.
Paolo, the Italian-born singer she was playing opposite to, arrived late, as usual, and Amelia found herself snapping again.
"And what hour do you think this is?"
He turned to her, half-dressed, and glared openly. "Scusa, mi amore, but my maestro had to pick me up e he was late."
She huffed. "And who's this maestro of yours, Paolo? God?"
He chuckled. "You are such a child." He walked to her and took her chin between his fingers. "I came with Maestro Salieri, you imbecile."
Her heart missed a beat. "Salieri? I mean, the Master Salieri is here?"
"You didn't think he'd miss the première of his friends' stageplay, did you?" He snorted, and went back to dressing.
Amelia thought of running out of the theatre for a split second.
Then out-thought herself off it.
He despised her, so be it.
She'd despise him.
Amelia had died on stage now minutes prior, and at that moment, she was hugging Constanze backstage.
"You were amazing darling. Really amazing."
Amelia's smile didn't fade. "Thanks Constanze."
"And guess who's here to congratulate?" She moved aside.
Revealing Wolfgang, of course.
And Salieri.
Whose black eyes locked to hers as if she was the light and he the moth.
"I think I might have missed an opportunity when I married Constanze. I should have married you instead."
Constanze nudged her husband. "Say that again."
He chuckled. "I'm joking." He pecked her wife on the lips. "But Amelia, you were...beautiful. If you don't receive ten proposals by the end of the night, I might kill people." Then he turned to Salieri. "Beginning with you, Antonio. Come on, propose to her, let me see that look on your face when she says no."
Amelia's heart stopped beating for a second.
Salieri merely rolled his eyes. "You are astonishingly funny, tonight."
"I know. Let's drink to that!"
Being squeezed next to the man you kept thinking about in a carriage wasn't Amelia's idea of the perfect journey back to Mozart's house.
Especially since she kept bumping into him everytime the carriage hit a hole in the road.
She felt fifteen again.
Her skin felt too tight, and ached for his to touch her. Her breath caught everytime she looked at him.
She felt patheticly in love. With a musician again.
And again with a musician who didn't like her back.
"Stop with the grim faces, you too, or I shall take my clothes off."
Amelia sighed. "Please don't. I've seen enough horrors for tonight."
Mozart chuckled. "How's that?"
She smirked. "I've seen Paolo shirtless."
Even Constanze laughed to that.
Only Salieri didn't.
"Antonio, seriously, he's a prodigious singer, but I don't know how this man can be more of an idiot than he already is."
Salieri sighed. "I know, Wolfgang. That's not why I hired him."
"Or say it was precisely why you hired him."
"If you say so, old friend."
But something told Amelia Mozart wasn't done with his conspiracy yet.
She was right.
Right after drinking one glass of wine, she found herself alone in the sitting-room, since Constanze had left to take her sons to bed, and Wolfgang had left for "unattended business".
The tension was so thick that after ten minutes of wait, Amelia got up and walked to the door.
He stopped her with his deep baritone voice. "You were quite good tonight."
She couldn't believe her ears.
Whirling around, her hand still on the doorknob, Amelia's eyes narrowed. "Quite good? That's all? I was quite good?"
She glared openly now.
So did he.
When he stood up and walked to her.
Oh crap.
"You are barely twenty. Did you think you'd be as good as Miss Cavalieri?"
Amelia snorted. "No, never. But I think quite good might be similar to horrid in your mouth."
"And why's that?"
He towered over her now.
His dark eyes boring into her soul.
Dear Lord.
"You don't like me, Master Salieri. You've never liked me, I get that. So don't even bother trying to compliment me, it sounds forced. Which it is."
"It's not forced."
She huffed. "Please! You're only doing this – staying in this room with me – to please Wolfgang. Don't even try to deny it."
"I'm denying it."
She didn't see it coming.
When the space between their bodies reduced to none, and his lips touched hers softly.
She needed to breathe.
She knew she needed to breathe.
And close her eyes.
She was perfectly sure that being kissed by a man with your eyes open wasn't that right thing to do.
So Amelia closed her eyes.
And enjoyed the feeling of being kissed.
By a musician that maybe liked her back.
Her hands went up to his neck, caressing the base of his smooth jet black hair.
Salieri's lips moved like his fingers must have done on a piano: softly, as if he was cherishing an instrument.
Which she was, in a manner of speaking.
Then Salieri pulled away.
His dark eyes once again boring into Amelia's soul.
"I am definitely denying it, Miss Linski."
And with those words, he exited the room.
Just like that.
When Wolfgang came back into the room, he found Amelia in tears, still standing beside the now open door.
He hurried to her. "What happened? What is the matter?"
She sobbed. "I'm in love with Salieri."
