"So you aunt doesn't approve of you playing the piano?" I asked the girl next to me.

Amy shook her head, taking a sip of her vanilla-flavored coffee before continuing her tale. "Which is why when I explained to her about my wish to major in music, she almost dropped me off at a rehabilitation center."

I chuckled, but Amy was grimacing.

"I'm not lying," Amy informed me. "She actually thought she could put me there for 'excessive amount of internet site influence', even though the only 'internet site' I really use is Fan Fiction and sometimes Facebook."

"Fan Fiction?" I repeated, not familiarized with such a site.

Amy nodded. "I'm a bookworm, and one that's not usually satisfied with the ending of my reads or feels like there should've been more of it. And that's a really bad combination. Luckily, in Fan Fiction, people can publish their ideas and either write a totally AU story, a small moment they wished to have seen in the book, an alternate way to end an event…"

"What is AU?" I asked.

Amy glanced at me, smiling after a few seconds. "Alternate Universe. Explaining Fan Fiction to you will be a bit complicated right now, so I'll owe it to you for another time. Meanwhile, I'll just continue my oral autobiography. How's that?"

I grinned, looking down at the mug of coffee in my hands.

"Well, the doctors in there obviously did not allow it… thank God," Amy said. "But she was still pretty mad. And I was about to drop the piano off, because I find it hard to defy my authorities. However, my former au pair, Nellie, came along."

"And she told you you'd be able to move into her apartment in here if you pursued your dreams," I finished for her, since I'd already heard that part of the story.

Amy nodded. "Glad you were paying attention."

I glanced at her, placing my hand on top of her head and ruffling strands of hair.

Amy freed her hair, giggling. "What was that for?"

I shrugged, taking a sip of my coffee. Honesty, I usually do that with the people who I feel close to (I won't tell her that, of course). Surprisingly, even though I'd only talked with her for an hour, I already felt like Amy and I have known each other for years. Especially since both of our families didn't really approve of our ambitions.

"I still can't believe you only began piano lessons when you were seventeen," I commented. "By the way you play, I'd expect that you'd been learning for your entire life."

A light blush crept on her cheeks as she modestly looked down, and I couldn't help but smile. She had the same effect on you that a bright and happy musical piece has –she makes you feel much better about everything.

"Now, I believe Ian's supposed to be around here," I told her, glancing around one of the college's building's front yard. The violinist had told us to meet him in front of the composer's hallways entry. Apparently, he had a close friend who was majoring on becoming a composer and usually hung around those areas.

At the mention of Ian, a nervous look settled on Amy's eyes. I guessed that maybe she was intimidated by him, since no one at the school was oblivious to his abilities. Little did I know how wrong I was.

"Ian, are you hinting what I'm thinking you are?" a girl inquired.

Amy and I both turned around in unison, pinpointing the area from which the sound was coming from.

"What would that be?" I heard Ian ask.

I begun to walk toward the end of the front wall, and Amy followed behind. Once I reached it, I quickly spotted Ian leaning on the side of the building's wall. There was a redhead in front of him, looking as if she'd just swallowed an entire lemon.

"That you want me to go out with you," she answered bluntly. She rolled her eyes. "I already told you –I'm too focused on my plans to be in a relationship. Besides, I don't want to ruin our friendship."

I was about to call out for him, but Amy held my arm. I turned to look at her, to which she simply responded by placing a finger on her bow-shaped lips.

"What would be the difference?" Ian countered dully. "Just like we've always done, we'd be going to cafes, libraries, music shops… except that maybe, we'd be holding hands."

"Which is exactly what I don't want," the redhead told him. "The idea of holding hands with you for a long period of time has never been appealing to me."

I grimaced. Ouch. As strong as he might be, Ian was probably pretty bummed right then. And even though he didn't show it, his usually I'm-Better-Than-You look was replaced by utter disappointment and embarrassment.

Suddenly, Shake it Out by Florence and the Machine rang out.

My face paled as a red-faced Amy took out her phone. Ian glanced at our way, and so did the redhead, but we were quick to turn on our backs. As Amy began to shut her phone off, Ian began to follow us.

We'd been caught as witnesses of Ian Kabra's first rejection.

"Excuse me, were you two just eavesdropping on our conversation?" he asked in his British accent.

Amy glanced at me, silently asking me what was our next step.

I simply motioned with my eyes at the door, signaling to simply keep walking without saying anything.

"Hey!" Ian sternly called out.

We quickened our pace as we reached the door. However, a group of students appeared in front of us, reaching to a halt once they spotted us.

"Whoa!" the guy said, nearly dropping his books.

Amy and I turned around, trying to find a quick escape.

However, as soon as Amy did that, she bumped into something –more specifically, someone. And that was Ian, whose shirt was now stained with all of Amy's coffee.

The twenty-year-old looked embarrassed, astonished, shocked, and everything along the lines of those feelings as her mouth dropped open. "That was not supposed to happen."

"And what are you planning to do now, huh?" Ian barked. "Stand there with your mouth wide open like a fool, when my favorite shirt is getting stained? What's done is done, and you are gonna have to find a way to fix this."

"Ian," I said, stepping into the conversation.

His eyes landed on me, and his brow furrowed. Realization dawned in his eyes. After gazing at Amy and back at me, he began to shake his head, burrowing his face in his hands. "Please don't tell me that this… this bird brain is going to be my partner for your duet."

I glanced at Amy before pressing my lips together. "Sort of."

The redhead patted Ian's back. As the boy turned to look at her, his facial expressions instantly softened.

"I'll get going," she stated. Before leaving, she looked down on us.

Once she was out of sight, Ian's gaze returned to us.

"I'm so sorry," Amy breathed out, her face still flushed.

"Sorry won't cut it," he hissed. "Especially since I'll be having to see your annoying face for the next few months."

Amy was at loss of words.

"Honestly, she said she was sorry," I told him.

He glared at him. "Shut up, Rosenbloom. This was my favorite shirt."

Amy was about to say something, but Ian interrupted her.

"Stop. Apologizing," he ordered.

I wanted to roll my eyes at his immature behavior. Maybe Mr. Campbell should've pushed him down to kindergarten instead. But since I needed his talent, I decided to keep it peaceful.

"What can she do to apologize?" I asked.

"Stay away from my sight," Ian replied, before stomping away.

I just wanted to thank you for the reviews! I honestly thought that I was one of three people who shipped Jamy in here, haha :) I hope you enjoyed this one!