A/N:Hello! I just had so much free time on my hands that I wrote this. And besides, I've always admired people who played the piano well! Please give me some constructive criticism and review!!
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"Ms. Misaki, how do you feel about yet another trophy?"
"Ms. Misaki, congratulations!"
"Ms. Misaki, this would be your twentieth victory here in England, right?"
"Ms. Misaki, would you care for an interview?"
"Ms. Misaki, what would you say is the best part of being a musical genius?"
"Ms. Misaki, what do you think of your fellow contestants?"
"Sayaaaa! We love you!"
"Ms. Misaki..."
"Ms. Misaki..."
"Mis. Misaki..."
The object of this attention, however, didn't seem to notice all the commotion as she made her way towards the waiting limousine. Her regal, black straight hair fluttered slightly in the wind as her worn out hand as it threatened to drop the thin black bag. Her onyx eyes were lidded, and her mouth was slightly ajar. She was tired, yes; however, she couldn't afford to lose her posture, especially in the black evening dress she wore-what, with its strapless-ness, and bare back.
"Misaki, can you hear me? It's okay-we're nearly there. Just a little more then you can sleep in the car," her agent, manager, and aunt spoke softly in her ear.
"Un." was the tired reply.
"And after that we need to board a train to Japan-there's another competition within two months. Just hang in there, okay? And we transferred you into a private school-the best around-Hyotei Gakuen, was it? And don't you worry; your living arrangements have all been made-a beautiful duplex a few minutes away from school, with your own bedroom, of course. And not to mention a sound-proof room for practicing. And a library, too-filled with all of your favorite books, fifteen full encyclopedia sets, and all the classics. Your dog's been transferred as well-oh, and not to worry-your stack of compositions are sitting safely in your 'composing room,' complete with everything you'll need. And you have a press conference on Saturday, right after school, and not to mention-"
"Kana-san."
"Hm?"
"I'm tired. Nothing you just said came through to me, so will you just shut it for tonight?!"
Something inside of Saya just snapped. She'd had enough! She knew her aunt was just trying to help, but hell! She needed a break!
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"Whatever. The car's here. Let's go."
-
Sunlight filtered through the small breach in the lime green curtains-Saya's favorite color. She groaned-what time was it? She peered over to the side, and a glance at her green alarm clock told her that it was only five-fifteen.
'What the hell-no, not again!'
Everytime Saya had to transfer, she'd wake up way too early for her own good. And she'd have a strange urge to stay home instead of go to school. Then, she's have a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach-as if something was in there, moving around. And soon, her hands would start to get clammy; and she hated that! She hated it when her valued piano-playing hands weren't in tip top condition. Yes-she had something she called 'the stage fright.'
Everything Saya did revolved around the black and white keys of a piano and the glorious stage on which it rested on. So naturally, when she had the first day flutters, she named it 'the stage fright.'
"Whatever." Saya grumbled under her breath and made her way towards the personal bathrroom to take a shower and start her day.
-
Atobe, as usual, arrivied to school exactly on time with a grand entrance with his sleek black limousine. He ran a hand through his hair and gave it a flick, smirking as he heard girls squeal. However, that smirk was wiped off his face as soon as he heard a loud thump! on the rear end of his car.
Atobe, clearly annoyed, looked at the source of the car; another limousine, white in color, had bumped into it. A girl swiftly got out of the car as the driver rushed out to open the door.
She had waist-length, pure black hair with straight bangs. Her skin was pale-nearly white, as if she hadn't had enough sunlight in her life. The girl's onyx eyes were narrowed in annoyance as well, arms crossed.
"Minamoto! What's the meaning of this?!" the girl fumed at the horrified driver.
"Hitomi-sama-please forgive me! I didn't mean to-"
"Whatever. And you!" she turned towards Atobe, who still stood defiantly in front of them. "How dare you place your car in my path! Look at what you've done!"
"What Ore-sama has done?! Why you little-"
"I hate this school already!"
"Brat-Ore-sama was about to forgive you if you begged to be forgiven, but kiss that dream good-bye!"
"Beg? BEG?! I don't beg!" she spat.
"How dare you scream at Ore-sama!"
"Ore-sama my ass! How dare you tell me to beg!"
"Why you-"
"Enough!"
The two teenagers snapped their heads sharply towards the voice; Sakaki-sensei.
"Atobe! You will stop this nonsense at once! And Misaki-san-please refrain from picking fights on your first day here."
"First day?"
'Misaki...now where have I heard that name before?'
"Ah. This is Misaki Saya-san. You may have heard of her musical accomplishments-and she's attending this school starting today."
'She's the girl...who's family's nearly as prosperous as Ore-sama's. And her father recently made a deal with Ore-sama's...Che.'
"Now both of you get to your classes."
"I don't know where mine is," Saya sniffed.
"What's your class?"
"3-A."
"Then that's the same class as Atobe-Atobe, show her the way to class."
"Ore-sama shall see what he can do-which is, of course, everything."
Saya rolled her eyes.
-
