Chapter 3 - Change of Plans
We were talking animatedly during the break we took at the rehearsal on Monday afternoon.
"The concert last night was pretty good." Belle agreed with another violinist. "I just hope the other two go as smoothly as this one."
"Me too." I said, thinking about the following events from last night.
My mind started drifting off to the sweet Olivia Jones and her uncle Killian, whom I realized wasn't half as bad as I first thought.
Initially I didn't think much of him, but only a really caring person would drive 11 miles just to put a smile on his 6 year old niece.
And I had to admit, the way he treated her was heart melting.
"Ladies and gentleman, I need you attention, please." Gold interrupted my thoughts with a cold tone of voice.
He gave a moment for everyone to stop talking before he continued. Did anything bad happen?
"I have good and bad news," He started. "The bad news is that our last concert had to be cancelled."
Murmurs of disapproval filled the room.
"Why, Gold?" A cellist asked.
"They had a problem with the concert room schedule." Gold explained. "Apparently they mistakenly had two events for the 23rd, and considering we already had two other concerts scheduled, they decided it wouldn't be a problem to cancel the third."
"But it's not fair." I stated.
"Life is not fair, dearie." He said resignedly.
"Are we going back home sooner, then?" A flute player asked, annoyed. "What about our free week?"
"That's where the good news is." Gold responded with a smirk. "Since the plane tickets and the hotel reservations are non-refundable, we are staying until June 4th, as previously scheduled, and you get an extra free week to enjoy this lovely town."
Several people shouted their approval. Sometimes I wondered if, instead of respected musicians, the group wasn't a pack of wolves, only trying to have fun everywhere.
Gold cleared his throat, signaling he still wanted to say something.
"I also have something important to discuss with you." He said to the group. "We already performed Beethoven's Emperor Concerto last night, which is a strong piece. Since we only have another concert, they suggested we perform a piece with more appeal instead of Mozart's Concerto No. 27."
"And what piece would that be, Rum?" Belle inquired with a frown.
Everyone waited for his response.
"Mozart's Concerto No. 20." He started. "We already performed this particular piano concerto last season in Boston, so it won't be unfamiliar territory for us."
A few people started to complain. I cringed.
"But this time we only have a single week to rehearse, and with a different pianist." The cellist from before stated.
"Swan, have you ever performed Mozart's No. 20 before?" Gold addressed me.
I took a deep breath as I started to get flooded by memories. Memories from the accident.
After three years, it still hurt to even think about it.
I could feel everyone's eyes on me, waiting for a response.
"Yes." I finally answered. "It's been a long time ago, but I have."
"Do you believe you can do it again?" Gold inquired, looking at me. He probably sensed there was more history to it.
I took a deep breath before answering.
"Yes".
"Great. It's settled then. We are performing Mozart's No. 20." Gold said. "Everyone, the scores for the Concerto are here, for those who might need it." He added, motioning for a pile of papers.
I walked back to the piano, with the intention of practicing a few problematic parts from the Concerto I knew I would have to work on. Also in an attempt of blocking those feelings and memories that were trying to come to the surface.
"Emma," I heard Belle's voice behind me. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," I said. Belle raised an eyebrow at me, but decided on not pushing the subject. "Just tired. Yesterday's concerto left me pretty much exhausted." I added.
"Tell me about it!" She laughed. "When I got back to the hotel, all I could think about was a warm bath and a good night of sleep."
We only went through the first and the second movements of the Concerto.
When I finally got back to the hotel, almost 7:00 p.m., I was physically exhausted and emotionally drained. And hungry. My last meal was a cookie at the small break we had during rehearsal.
Although I was so tired, I didn't want to go to my room just yet, as I knew being alone would only make me relive those memories I've been trying to avoid the whole day. But I didn't have much of a choice.
As I walked through the lobby, I noticed Killian Jones sitting at the counter. He was looking at the computer with concentration, probably busy.
Just then he looked up and noticed my presence. His mouth opened up in a grin, and he stood up, walking in my direction.
"Hello, Swan," He started. "I didn't see you the whole day."
"I was in Dublin rehearsing, and just got back". I said tiredly.
"You look like you didn't have something to eat in hours." He stated. "Want to grab something?"
I didn't have many options if I didn't want to go to upstairs to my room, so I decided to take the opportunity.
"Sure." I answered. He raised his eyebrows as if he were expecting a different answer. "But are you sure you can just leave like that? Isn't your boss going to be pissed if you skip work?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"You really believe I'm just a receptionist of a small town hotel, don't you?" He asked cockily.
"Well, aren't you?"
"Wait a second."
He laughed and walked to the counter to speak to a girl who was there that I didn't notice before. He came back with a smirk.
"Let's go."
We sat at a small pub about 5 miles from the hotel and Killian was ordering our food.
He turned back to me as the waitress left.
"So, will you tell me what that little stunt was about?" I finally asked.
"What stunt, love?"
"The I'm not just a receptionist thing back at the hotel."
"Oh, that. I thought you'd let that one go." He laughed. "But here we go."
I waited, patiently.
"I can leave whenever I want because I actually own the place." He said, looking at me.
I snorted.
"If you own the hotel, why on earth do you work as a receptionist?"
"To keep myself busy, I guess." He answered matter of factly. "I own the place along with my brother; we inherited the hotel when our father died. Liam does all the bureaucratic work and I help run the place, usually giving a hand to Tink, the girl at the reception, because I enjoy the human contact. There's not much to do actually."
He paused, drinking some of his Coke. I waited for him to continue.
"Except when American blonde pianists start whining about having to be so far from the delightful Dublin." He mocked.
I laughed and smacked his arm playfully.
"So, was the rehearsal productive?" He asked, changing the subject.
"Sort of." I said with a sigh. "We had to start over an entire Concerto."
"Why? I may not understand much of this, but I thought you guys rehearsed concertos way before the scheduled date of the performances."
"We do, but they had an issue with the schedule of the concert room."
I told him the whole story about the last concert being cancelled and the change in the repertoire.
"That's a shame." He said after I finished speaking. "Olivia will be quite sad to miss the concert. I was going to take her again to the one on the 23rd."
"Can't you take her next Sunday?" I inquired.
"She has a piano party or something like that with her little mates next Sunday," He explained. "To celebrate the recital."
"Oh. She'll be sad about it."
He nodded in agreement.
Suddenly I had an idea.
"Hey, do you think you can drive to Dublin this Friday afternoon?" I asked at once.
"Yeah... Do you need a ride?" He inquired nonchalantly.
"No." I quickly replied. "I was thinking that maybe you could take Olivia to watch the rehearsal. We will probably just go through the whole piece once or twice, and I'm sure Olivia would love to watch it."
"I thought you guys only had closed rehearsals."
"We do, but I'm certain I can convince the conductor to allow two special guests."
"So I'm special now?" He smirked.
"Shut up."
At this point the food arrived. We both ordered cheeseburgers, because according to Killian, that pub had the best in town and I couldn't be in Malahide and just not eat it.
"So, where do you live in the US?" He asked curiously.
"Storybrooke, Maine. Not many people have heard of it." I said with a shrug.
"Not many people have heard of Malahide either."
"Now that is true, buddy." I laughed.
He laughed in agreement.
"Do you live there on your own or...?"
"I live with my brother David."
"So you have a brother."
"Yes." I smiled as I thought about David. "We are very close."
"That's good, you know. To be close with your family. Liam and I are like that too. Especially after our father died."
"I'm sorry about that."
"It's okay. It was a long time ago. Mom is really close to us too, but she currently is living in Wales, Scotland." He assured with a calming smile. "What about your parents, are you close with them too?"
"They passed away three years ago."
"I'm really sorry about that." He said touching my arm. Again, that spark.
"Thank you."
Killian insisted on paying the bill. We left the pub and he drove us back to the hotel.
We sat at the now emptied lounge. Killian was telling me stories of the little adventures he had with his brother as a child.
"Wait, you really stole all the grapes from your uncle's vineyard?" I asked bewildered.
"Yes. We thought it was a good weapon to use against it other when we were playing war." he laughed.
"And what did your uncle do when he found out?"
"He didn't find out. Not that we were the thieves, anyway."
"Please don't tell me someone else got the blame!"
"If it makes you feel any better, we never lied. We just never confessed it was us." He laughed.
"Who did he thought that did it?"
"He thought it was the work of Robin Locksley, our best friend. The boy was our age, and he had the habit of stealing fruits from people's farms and giving them to poor kids around the neighborhood. He was a little obsessed with Robin Hood's story as a child."
"They did share the first name."
"Yeah, they did. And Robin took great pride in it back then." He said amused. "What about you, any crazy stories from childhood?"
"Not really. I spent too much time playing the piano to care about stealing things." I teased.
He rolled his eyes.
"How old were you when you started taking lessons?" He inquired.
"I was 4. But I started playing long before that, actually." I started, smiling at the memory. "David started taking piano lessons when he was 6. I was just 3 back then, but I loved to watch his lessons. According to him, I enjoyed the lessons much more than he did."
Killian smiled, encouraging me to keep going.
"There was this time when the piano was left open, and I decided to sit on the bench and practice the exercises David's teacher had asked him to, just for fun. Suddenly he got into the room and found me playing his little pieces and, according to him, I did it better than he did. Since that episode, whenever mom asked him to practice, he would put me to practice his pieces instead."
"Your brother actually managed to pretend it was him practicing when it was actually the 3 year old you?"
"Yes, and no one never even imagined it was me. Only when the teacher said David wasn't progressing as he should, almost a year later, my parents started to think something was wrong. One day they decided to hide in a corner to see David's practice session. Mom asked David to go practice, and as usual, he called me and I started practicing for him while he played with his toys. What he didn't know was that dad was hiding in a corner of the room, watching everything."
"I bet they were astounded to find out the truth."
"They were. My father called my mother into the room to see David's practice time. She couldn't believe her eyes. After that, I was the one taking piano lessons from David's teacher, and he was finally free from the piano. They did have, however, a serious conversation with David about lying and pretending things."
"Hold on, you didn't get in trouble? Only your brother did?" Killian huffed.
"Of course not. I was just four!" I defended myself. "For me, I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was just playing the piano when my brother asked me to."
"Spoiled much?" He teased.
"Oh please, like you were the best role model, you little grape thief!" I provoked back.
"Grape thief? I prefer dashing rapscallion if we are getting on a nickname basis." He smirked flirtatiously.
I laughed, smacking his arm, trying to wash that smirk out of his face.
As we kept talking about various subjects, I started to realize how easy it was to talk to Killian.
He was funny, interesting, dangerously handsome and stupidly flirtatious, and we didn't run out of things to talk about. Time was flying by, and when I noticed, it was almost 2 a.m.
"It's really late and I have an early rehearsal tomorrow." I said standing up.
"I should probably get going too." He said, following my movements.
He walked me in silence to my door.
"Have a good night, Killian." I said, searching my purse for the key.
"Have a good night too, Swan."
When I finally found my key, I looked up to see his face mere inches from mine. I didn't notice him moving closer. The air got thick with the tension that filled the corridor.
He was looking at me intently, as if trying to decide something. He raised his hand and moved away a lock of my hair that was falling on my eyes.
I knew what was coming.
And I also knew the consequences and implications of that.
"Goodnight, Killian." I said again, in an attempt of running away.
"Goodnight, Emma." He said, awkwardly turning around to leave.
I inserted the key into the door hole and opened it, taking a step into the room.
"Hey, Emma." Killian spoke before I closed the door. I didn't realize he was still there.
"Yeah...?" I turned to find him on top of the staircase, looking at me with a smile.
"See you around." He said.
"See you around, Killian." I answered, finally closing the door and taking a deep breath.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Please make my day and let me know what you think! :)
