a/n: I do not own the characters, they are property of the fabulous Stephanie Meyer. I did give one a haircut though.
Chapter 3
Why Not
The girl who introduced herself as Alice held out her hand expectantly.
I reached out to shake it, "Hi, I'm Bella, uff—" but even before I could finish my sentence she pulled me into a gut wrenching hug. After a moment she left go and I she stood still long enough to finally take a good look at her.
I was short. Alice was much shorter. Her dark hair was think and flipped in every which direction. Her eyes twinkled and she appeared to be bouncing up and down like a humming bird. She was dressed in a green and black tweed dress that flared out with bright blue tights and silver sequined ballet flats. I was absolutely certain I could never pull off the look, but on her petite body it looked stunning.
"Are you heading out?" she asked with an accent, now that I heard it again I tried to place it, almost British, but mixed in a tad with something else that I could not put my finger on.
"I was going to take a walk over and briefly check out the Park."
Alice stifled a laugh, "You are probably going to be walking a while, Regent's Park is one of the largest parks in the city."
"Now I feel stupid, I didn't know that. Maybe I'll revise my plans and go for a quick run instead and leave the exploring for later."
"You could stay here and we could get to know each other better." Alice offered with a hopeful look on her face.
"I've been sitting on a plane for nine hours, right now I just need to get out and stretch my legs."
"Oh, maybe later." Disappointment filled Alice's face.
I bit my lip and then offered, "Hey, I am having dinner with my group mates and a brief orientation this evening, if you are going to be around later maybe we could hang out?" Her eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.
"I have just the place to go, I've been dying to bring someone there. It's a bit of off-color pub, but it has character!"
"Hold your horses Alice, first off how can we go to a pub, I'm only 20 and cannot get in, and secondly, don't you have classes are something tomorrow?"
"Oh Silly Bella, we are in Europe. Drinking age is 18. And I have a class, but it is not until the afternoon so we have plenty of time to go out. It is your first night here, you should celebrate!"
Shy and reserved Bella would certainly never go out in a foreign the first night she landed with a complete stranger to a pub. On the other hand, that Bella sky dived off a plane in the middle of the Atlantic. Bella 2.0 just grinned and replied,
"Sounds great! I'll be back a little after 7pm." Her enthusiasm was certainly captivating.
I grabbed my running clothes and ran to the bathroom across the hall to get ready. Clipping on my Ipod and throwing my hair back into a haphazard pony-tail, I ran back across the hall to throw my clothes on the bed. When I reappeared I noticed Alice sizing up the contents of my closet.
"Alice, are you looking for something?" I certainly hoped I was not rooming with a pickpocket.
"Bella, where are the rest of your clothes?"
"What are you talking about?" I started to panic and wondered where they could have run off to, I had been in the room practically since I walked through the door. Looking inside I was relieved to see everything still hanging up on the little plastic hangers, "Alice, you scared me. Everything is here."
"You cannot be serious, Bella, how do you plan to even make it through a week with this wimpy wardrobe?" I had barely known the girl for fifteen minutes and she already had the gull to insult my clothing, "This will simply not do, first thing tomorrow we are going shopping."
"Alice, the first thing you should know about me as a roommate is that I do not shop. The second is that I do not plan on leaving this country with any clothes other then what I originally brought with me. I packed light on purpose in case at the end of my time here I wanted to travel on the continent a little bit."
Alice just shook her head as if she was done with the conversation for the time being but I thought I heard her mumble under her breath, "Hmph…we'll see about that."
Grabbing my keys I waved a quick goodbye and made my way to the front door. Running around the block I easily found an entrance to Regent's Park. I immediately saw a small canal and a path running along side that I decided to take. The park looked like it was immaculately cared for and seemed like the quintessential way to welcome myself to London. Quaint and very British.
I settled into a comfortable rhythm when "We Run" popped up on my Ipod and I started to sing along,
"Lips like gravity pull me under/reckless weather on his breath/smells like rain/hits like thunder/storm is comin/I got nothin' left."
As I hit the refrain I passed a group of guys sitting around a bench with their guitars. I could not hear what they were playing over the music pouring through my ear buds, but I did notice they all had the grunge and emo look perfected. I continued on the path with the refrain,
"So we run, yeah, yeah, yeah, we run/come undone like a string on a sweater/that you pull but you know better/but doing what you shouldn't half the fun/so we run--," at that moment my chronic clumsiness settled back in and I stumbled over my own feet. My brain registered for half a second the image of Jacob swooping in to wrap his large arms around me and to stop me before I fell like he always did. Of course he was half a world away right now and I rolled down to the ground and scrapped my leg on the pavement.
"Crap," I muttered looking at the mess. My leg was bleeding from several spots but it did not feel like there was any major damage. I pulled off my shoe and took my sock off to wipe up the mess and help blot the cuts until I could get back to my room and bandage it up; thankfully they too only looked to be surface wounds. When it looked like it everything was under control, I put my sock and shoe back on and stood up to continue my run. After years of injuries like this thanks to my natural clumsiness, I always found it is simpler to get up and keep going otherwise I would never get a good run in.
Once I brushed myself off I noticed one of the emo guys look at me in disgust while running a hand through his messy hair and then turn back to his friends. Someone did mention that some British tended to act a bit snobbish; I figure this is all a part of the cultural experience. I just shrugged and pressed play while turning to the group of congregating guitarists to smile smugly. No little sidewalk was going to take me down. I continued on belting out the lyrics to the song without a care in the world,
"Fire and laughter, fence posts flyin'/feel the fever in the air/can't remember what came before him/and what comes after I don't care/hands are tremblin', swore I wouldn't/one more look and I'll give in/hundred reasons why I shouldn't/but I lost my heart and wanted him to win."
The pain from my leg numbed and my pace quickened through the refrain and picked up on the last verse,
"I hear the lever on his voice, it's a callin' not a choice/and I can't keep myself from followin' the sound/ yeah, you may never know how fast that you can go/till someone lifts your feet up off the ground."
Eleazar and Carmen decided to hold the meeting during dinner and gave us the basic information on the ISH campus and where our classes would take place. They also set up appointments with students in our group with internships. I was nervous to hear about my assignment with parliament since other then student government I had no experience with anything political.
At seven on the dot I made it back to my room at MTH to find a rather bouncy Alice waiting by my bed. A pair of jeans I brought with me was sitting on my bed, along with a shirt I did not recognize.
"I set some clothes out for you so we can go straight away to the pub," Alice bounced excitedly, I hope you do not mind but I invited my boyfriend."
"Of course he can come along. Umm, Alice, that's not my shirt? Plus what is wrong with what I have on right now," I pointed to my outfit. I had changed after my run and cleaned up my mess.
"It's my shirt, but it looks like it should fit you. Don't you want to make a good impression on London Bella? You cannot do that in grungy jeans and a t-shirt."
Before I could respond Alice had already lifted my shirt and I thought I heard her scowl and mutter, "eww, sports bra," under her breath. I attempted to push her away and tell her that I was perfectly capable of dressing myself but the little pixie fluttered around me too quickly. Before I knew it she had my hair back in messy ponytail and some light make-up on my face.
"Best I can do with the little time we have available. Follow me, it's close so we can walk," for being so tiny, Alice was quite quick and hard to keep up with.
"Where exactly are we going Alice?"
"The pub's name is 'Dirty Dick's'. A friend of my boyfriend owns it, so it should be perfectly British, and the perfect place for you to become acquainted with England at its finest!"
"So you are telling me that 'Dirty Dick's' is the best of England?" Somehow I doubted this theory of hers.
"You'll see," she had a smug smile on her face like she could already tell what kind of evening we would have.
At Alice's breakneck speed we made it to the pub in less than ten minutes. We walked inside and breathed a sigh of relief that 'Dirty Dick's' was not in fact a British version of a strip club. The interior had a dark orange glow. Mis-matched thick wooden furniture crowded the room and the every spare space of wall contained local photographs and chotchkies. The chandeliers were made of old converted wood wheels and metalwork.
Alice guided me to a booth in the back of the small pub where a man about our age with blond curly hair sat, mug in hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. He rose from his chair when he saw us.
"Bella, this bloke is my boyfriend Jasper Whitlock," he reached out his hand and I shook it firmly, although not overdoing it like I had with Mike.
"Nice to meet you Bella. Have a seat my ladies. Any preference for drinks?" Jasper acted like a perfect gentleman and went to fetch a couple pints of beer from the bar. He came back with a tall young man dark brown, almost black hair holding a couple of drinks.
"Bella, I would like you to meet the proprietor of this fine establish, and an all around good chap, Peter,"
"Now you are coming on a bit cheeky there Jasper." Peter grinned as he set down our drinks.
"Why don't you tell us about yourself Bella?" Jasper asked. I felt comfortable talking with the three of them, telling them about my family back in the states, my English major, and how I would be interning for parliament. I purposely left out any information regarding why I decided to study in London in the first place.
"Alice are you from around here, your accent seams almost British," I asked curious if she was why she stayed at ISH.
Sensing my reason for asking, Alice answered, "I am studying fashion design. I am hoping to apprentice with a designer in Paris at the end of term. My family is originally from Scotland, but lives part of the year in London. They spend even more time here since my brothers and I started in at university. I applied for residency at ISH when my brother enrolled at the Royal Music Conservatory, although I rarely see him."
"So your parents live in London too?"
"Yes, and they are jolly good parents, but I wanted to be more independent. You must come with me to visit them on holiday, mum would adore the extra company," Alice's became so excited she began bouncing the entire booth seat.
"Calm yourself Alice, we do not want to scare poor Bella the first night she is here," Jasper's soothing words calmed her immediately and the look the two shared after was so intense, Peter and I turned away for a moment to allow them privacy.
"Are you going to school right now Jasper?" I asked once we all settled back into our drinks.
"I am, and perhaps you will be able to help me," he had a slight smirk on his face.
"Really, now is that?"
"I am studying history and hope to teach it at a secondary school. My specialty is war history. World War II and the American Civil War fascinate me in particular. Perhaps you can share your American perspective."
We spent the night getting to know one and another, and I felt oddly more comfortable with my new British friends whom I had only known for the past eight hours then most of the American friends I left behind in Seattle. They did not hold any preconceived notions about me and for the first time in my life I walked into a relationship Tabula Rosa. My blank slate would be filled with new experiences and I did not want to hold back any longer.
Jasper walked Alice and I back to MTH and made sure we were securely in the building before walking away. We headed up to our room, and once we locked the door I said as an after though,
"Jasper is a pretty cool cat. Good job snagging him Alice."
"I am hoping that translates to he is one hot and sexy man and his arse is mine." We laughed while getting ready for bed.
I smiled at Alice after calming down from my giggles, "Something like that."
"Goodnight Bella."
"Night Alice."
The next morning I awoke to find Alice's bed empty. There was a note that she had to run out for some errands and would be back later in the afternoon. I did not have to meet with Eleazar until three o'clock, so I decided to head out for a mini tour of the city armed with a pocket map of the city and tube station routes. I was fairly proud of myself for navigating the tube down from the Great Portland Street stop all the way down to the Westminster stop, successfully managing one transfer to get there.
When I came out from underground I was immediately greeted with not only Parliament and Big Ben, but also Westminster Cathedral, and just down the way of the Prime Minister's office at the famous 10 Downing Street. Everything felt so surreal with so many historical landmarks in a compacted area. Across the Thames I could easily see the famous London Eye moving slowly.
I decided to walk down the street past Westminster promising myself to come and visit when I had more time, when a shop sign stuck out from a building, so curious was the name that I had to stop and see what it offered. I peaked in to see a small salon with only three chairs and a modern touch to the décor. Suddenly the impulsive urge returned. Un-Bella shrieked in delight, the sign on the door read, "Why Not"
"You're right," I murmured. A few passers by gave me a strange look while I answered a non-existent question.
Without a second thought I pushed the glass door open and stood in the entry, but after that I was not sure exactly what to do. There were three stylists all attending to customers in their chairs looking very focused on their current project. Each stylist was even more ecliptic then the next. The closest stylist to me turned around and faced me with chunky purple glasses and blond hair spiked back. Each strand looked perfectly placed and complimented her sleek navy blue leather jacket and slim black jeans.
"Hi there, with you in a minute," her voice was thick with an Australian accent and her hands never left contact with her customer's head.
I found a plush chair in the corner and aimlessly browsed through magazines, never really paying attention to the content on the pages. It felt surreal to be sitting in a salon in the heart of London when just a day before I was hugging my dad goodbye from the airport in Seattle. I must have dazed off when I heard a voice, quickly snapping out of my thoughts,
"Come on over and have a seat," it was the chic Australian and she held out a hand to her now empty chair. When I settled in she continued, "Hi I'm Samantha, what were you thinking for today?"
"Honestly, I have no idea. I'm really bad at styling and thinking up things to do. I guess, um, whatever you think looks best and I don't have to do a lot to style it in the morning?" From her reflection in the mirror I saw Samantha give a little crooked smile and run her hands through my hair while seeming to analyze it intently.
"Alright, we are going to take off some length, you alright with that?"
"Whatever you think is best."
"Let's get you washed up then dear." Samantha directed me to a sink and went to work with recreating my style. At first she fully immersed herself with fixing my mess of a head, but once it looked like there was a light at the end of the tunnel, she directed her attention to a bit of conversation.
"From your accent you do not sound like you are from around here," Samantha said smiling from behind her glasses rim.
"No, I'm here studying from the U.S. It sounds like you are from…"
"Australia. Yes, I transplanted myself here. We Aussies like to travel and this seemed like a good spot to set up a shop."
"You own this place?"
Samantha chuckled, "Yes, I came here six years ago and it just clicked, like this was the place to set down…for a while at least. I found this place for sale and the location was just too perfect. The words I said when I decided to stay were, 'why not' and that just sort of stuck."
"Well, it is catchy, I admit that was the reason I walked through the door."
"You're not the first person to say that," Samantha said chuckling again, "So, I usually don't see a lot of tourists wandering around the city by themselves. Are you from university here by yourself?"
"No, there is a group of twenty of us. They planned a lot of activities for our group to get close, but sometimes, I just need to escape for a bit."
"With a city the size of London, don't you find it difficult to get away with so many bloody people around?"
"On the contrary, I think it will be really easy. With some many people you become anonymous. Everyone goes about their own lives and doesn't really notice…" I wanted to say someone as plain as me, but I amended the statement, "doesn't really notice you." Samantha smiled at that and twirled me around to begin blow-dry and style my hair. Moments later she spun me to face the mirror again,
"Well no one will ignore you now," she said with that same crooked smile. A seemingly small change, but the result shocked me with the new asymmetrical bob that was daring and entirely unlike anything I had ever seen before. It seemed like the hair just floated along my jaw line making my eyes look infinitely larger.
"Nice work Samantha," the stylist working next to us said in approval. Certainly my old style had frightened them all and I would not doubt that they did not think she would find a way to tame the shrew of hair.
"Wow, I don't know what to say. Well, yes I do. It looks fantastic! Thank you Samantha."
"Not a problem darling, lets get you rung up so you can go have fun with your new hair." Even with the horrible exchange rate, handing over the £20.90 did not seem to be so unbearable. Walking out of that salon I felt liberated, even if just for a moment. Spontaneity had become my drug and was coming in to fill a gap, what the true gap was, I could not be so sure.
I made it back to ISH in time to meet with Eleazar about my internship and met him in the small bar and grill on the main level. He was already seated, probably putting notes together from his last student meeting.
"Hi Eleazar."
"Good afternoon Isabella," I cringed internally of the use of my formal name, but decided not to correct him, "I hope you enjoyed your first night in London."
"Very much so, I have a fantastic roommate who is from the UK who promised to show me around."
"You are very lucky. Sometimes I worry that when the American students stick together they miss out on the entire experience of studying abroad by going out and meeting people," a waiter stopped at our table and handed Eleazar and me a water, "So Isabella, are you excited to start your internship in parliament?"
"I have to admit I am a little nervous. I really do not know a lot about government and politics to begin with. I was slightly surprised I was placed with this internship since I am an English major."
"Ah, yes. I understand your concern. However, you were placed in this particular position because of your major," he assessed the confused expression on my face and continued on, "The particular MP you will be working with requested someone who could assist in speech writing and press releases. He expressed interest in having someone who was outside of the world of politics join his office to give it a fresh perspective in hopes you could force them to explain the policies to regular British citizens."
I bit my lip and mumbled, "I have never written a speech before, and I'm not sure how good at this I will be."
"Ah Isabella, you need to have faith in yourself. You will be assisting a head writer, so the pressure will not be entirely on your shoulders. Your job will be more of going through and making sure anyone could understand the message they relay. As sad as it may sound, you are going to help bring it down for the masses." Eleazar had an encouraging smile on his face, and I repeated to myself why I was here in the first place.
"I came here because I wanted to try something different and have a broad experience that I would not get in Seattle. It would not be fair to myself to give up before I even try."
"That is good to hear," Eleazar handed me a manila folder, "This packet includes information on the primary MP you will be working with as well as your weekly schedule. Nothing should conflict with the other classes you are taking. You will start next week and are to report to the main entrance at 9 am on the dot. The British are very astute when it comes to punctuality. From there they will get you settled in." I took the papers and before I left Eleazar shook my hand,
"Carmen always says I have a gift in seeing other people's abilities. Isabella, I have faith that you will do well at this internship, better then even you expect of yourself."
******************
I arrived back at my flat when I heard some rather strange noises coming from my room. I decided to knock and give fair warning to whoever and whatever was going on inside,
"Are you okay in there Alice?" I should not have been surprised when I stumbled in to find Alice smoothing out her dress and Jasper trying to button his shirt back up.
"And here I thought I liked you Bella," Jasper smirked as he tried to tame his messy hair.
"What I just did would be know as a cock-block back in the states," I said trying to be witty, but my cheeks were still slightly flushed with embarrassment from what I almost walked in on.
"I believe that is a loose translation of what we would call it here," Jasper just smirked and turned to Alice, "I should be going, practice starts soon and they get right angry if I'm late."
As soon as Alice and Jasper shared one of their, what I affectionately called, 'eye ogling moments' she turned toward me expectantly and announced,
"We are going shopping!"
"What do you need to pick up Alice?" I looked over to her side of the room that overflowed with clothes, shoes, and various other offensive items trying to figure out what else this girl could need.
"Not for me my dear, for you of course!"
"Alice, I told you that I do not want anything I do not already have."
"Ah, this is not about wants, this is about need. You said you were going to be interning in parliament and I only saw one ragged suit in the closet. Do you plan on wearing that every single day?" In truth yes, that is exactly what I planned, "It will not look very professional Bella. Not to mention we have to celebrate this new hairstyle, it is very chic. I did not think you had it in you!"
"I gave you two reasons why I am not going to purchase anything else, here is number three. While I am here I do not have a job, so I am living off the meager earnings I have in my savings account. When that bad boy runs dry I am out of luck. There is simply no way I can go clothes shopping."
Alice just put up her hands on her hips and glared at me with an expression that said, so what?
"Right then, we are going for me," before I could protest she grabbed my hand and headed for the door.
We took the tube down to the Oxford Street station and came above ground to the busy shopping district. I half expected her to go straight to one of the many department stores, but she surprised me by heading down what I thought was an passageway toward a row of stores that looked like Diagon Alley straight out of freaking Harry Potter. Rows of small boutiques lined the narrow street and expensive handbags and designer dresses sat perched in windows screaming at me, "Bella, you are out of your league, get your arse out of here!" I never knew Gucci could be so cruel.
Alice pulled me toward a door and when we stepped inside I felt like I had just stepped into Wonderland. The walls were are vibrant green, and the shelves were sparsely filled, instead of mass quantities of items, they had one-of-a-kind pieces not only displayed on gold leaf, ornate shelves, each piece was displayed under a museum light. Alice went to the back of the store with the determination that she was on a very specific mission. Meanwhile I looked at a dazzling little dark green dress on the wall, and then jumped back from it in shock when I turned over the price tag that so delicately flowed from the hem.
Holy freaken' cow, that dress cost more then a semester of college at U of Washington!
I started to hyperventilate when I turned to see Alice. I wanted to warn her that we needed to go running from this place, that she had no idea what it was going to set her pocket book back. But then I saw she was no longer alone.
"Bella, you remember we introduced you to Peter last night, well this is his wife Charlotte. She owns this boutique," Charlotte held out her hand and I shook it graciously.
"I see you were admiring this piece. It is a new creation from an up and coming designer from right here in London," Charlotte smiled and gestured to the dress that nearly gave me a panic attack.
"Can you try it on for me Bella? I want to see how it looks on a person and not just sitting on a hanger," Alice smiled as she took it off the hook and handed it to me.
"No way Alice. No offence, because it is stunning, but if I accidentally ripped it or something there is no way I could afford to buy it."
"That is not a problem, Charlotte and I are quite accomplished seamstresses and could patch it up in no time. Dressing room is this way." Before I could protest any further I was pushed into a spacious room pointed with bright purple paint and modern light fixtures. In the corner was a chaise lounge upholstered with a modern graphic pattern. Taking my time to put it on so that nothing would rip, headed out of the room toward a stand up mirror that was situated just outside the changing room.
Alice and Charlotte gasped. I did too and knew immediately that I was far to plain to wear something so perfect. I felt like a pale canvas washed about by a bright flower, and immediately turned to run back in and to change into my street clothes. Before I could Alice stopped me and whispered to Charlotte,
"This is just how I envisioned it." Charlotte nodded her head in agreement and a small smile came to her lips, "Now I just need to find the perfect pair of shoes to go with it!"
I looked at them with a confused expression and Alice just nodded toward the dressing room indicating I could change back into my own clothes. As soon as I opened the door Charlotte fluttered in and swooped up the dress,
"I'll wrap it up Alice!"
I stood wide-eyed. I could not understand why Alice would purchase this dress and went over to whisper in her ear, "That dress is so expensive, and why would you get it when it is obviously several sizes to big for you?"
"Silly Bella, the dress is not for me, the dress is for you! It fit you like a glove, as if it was designed specifically with you in mind."
"There is no way I can afford that Alice, I have to get Charlotte to put it back!" I hissed under my breath.
"Not a problem, it is already taken care of."
"There is no way I can let you buy me something that expensive!" Now I was getting louder and did not care if Charlotte could hear me. In fact I knew she could because she answered back,
"Perhaps you should tell her who the designer is, Alice?" I looked dumbfounded, why would it matter who the designer is, the dress would still be out of my price range no matter what. Then I saw a small Cheshire grin grow across Alice's face. Did that mean—
"Alice, is that one of your designs?" she just widened her grin even more and nodded.
"So the American is a smart one. Congratulations, you are the proud owner of an Alice original."
"Are you going to accept my gift, or keep on about this business to acquire no new clothes?" she had a smug look on her face like she already knew my answer.
"I still think it is too much, you are losing a lot of money by giving this to me, I saw the price tag."
"Nonsense, as we visit the other boutiques you will see I have plenty other pieces out there. It is my mission to make you a posh women yet!"
All afternoon Alice tried to convince me to try on other clothes, but now that I knew her dastardly plan I flat out refused. I could hardly in good conscious accept the first dress, but the thought of having a wardrobe that expensive made my stomach turned. Putting a chronic klutz in expensive clothing generally equates into rips and stains. I felt a sense of victory when I walked away from the boutiques with only the bag from Charlotte's shop, but felt my stomach turn when we arrived back at the flat and a pile of bags sat on my bed.
Alice just shrugged, "I had them delivered."
Persistent little pixie.
After Alice's little escapade I tried to chalk it up as an un-Bella moment. I never let Renee, Charlie, or anyone for that matter ever give me gifts. I really did not like their incessant desire to force them upon me, "we are showing you we care," was always the mantra they would recite. If they really cared they would leave the stuff at the store. So after I went into a panic attack that caused Alice to go into an even more hyper state, I knew I had to get out of that room and be by myself for a bit. Un-Bella realized she needed to take baby steps in certain areas, this being one of them.
I decided I would explore the rest of MTH. I knew that I was going to make Alice take the clothes and accessories back, she couldn't have her way all the time, right? Hmmm—. That meant I still only had a week worth of clothes for my planned rotation. It would probably be good to know where the laundry room was located.
The first floor contained the small front reception area and more student housing, but nothing that looked like a laundry room. Then I remember looking at the welcome packet about the basement having a common area. I made my way down the stairwell and opened a door to find a long hallway with several dozen doors. Walking past the first one it had a small placard on a window looking into a small room, "Practice Room." Most of the doors in the hall had the same sign, one near the end of the hallway had a light on and I could see a violinist inside with her back toward me. Although I could barely make out the music she played, I could easily see that her entire body moved with the music. I imagined it was almost as beautiful to watch her create the music and as to hear it.
A couple doors down I found the laundry room with small stacked washers and driers. There was no place to purchase detergent, so I made a mental note to ask Alice of a store that sold some the next time I went out. Then I thought better of it, with as many clothes she has, there is probably no need to wear the same thing twice or wash them.
I began to walk down the hall to the stairwell when I heard the most divine sound coming from behind me. The notes came from a piano behind a door that was not soundproof like the rest of the practice rooms in the hall. I slowly opened the door to look inside a room with the lights off. The only illumination came from a small window that focused the beams onto a baby grand piano in the middle of the room where its player hunched over the keys, his back toward me. From the small amount of available light I could see his long thin fingers flutter over the keys.
The hair on his head moved against the beat and his silhouette reminded me of paintings of a young Beethoven. Suddenly the piece he played took a turn in its mood pulling in minor chords, but coloring the notes warmly and softly a massive crescendo pushed everything over the edge.
I had never felt so moved by a piece of music, but in this small space with this private concert, my body reacted in ways that I could not imagine. My pulse quickened, hand hands shook, and before I could stop myself as the last note hung in the air I let out gasp.
As soon as the sound left my mouth, the player stood from his bench. I could not see his face, but the light from the window backlit his body and for a moment I could have mistaken him for an angel. His voice was velvet, but the words that came out took me back to reality,
"Why are you in here!" The words were not a question but rather an accusation.
Introverted Bella wanted to run away, but Bella 2.0 mustered out, "."
"Bloody hell, can't understand a word out of your mouth," taking a breath to calm my nerves I tried again,
"I heard you playing when I was looking for the laundry room," I did not know if he could see me through the darkness, but if he could a blush had spread across my face.
"Get out of this room, that piece was personal."
"It was so beautiful, I just wanted to hear it, I didn't mean to offend you—"
"Does yor little brain not comprehend English? I said, get out you little twit!" He banged his fist on the keys and I could hear the anger fill his voice.
I wanted to turn and run, it seemed like the natural safe response. He was mad and wanted me gone, but all I had done was pay him a compliment. Heck, it wasn't my fault that he was playing in a room at MTH that anyone could walk into. I felt a venom rise in my mouth that I had never experienced before.
"You know what, fuck you. If you did not want any one to walk in on you, see this lock on this door. Yeah, this one right here. You should have locked it before you started off in your emo soul-searching moment. It must hurt so much to be the hurt misunderstood artist, boo hoo, grab a tissue. You are just an asshole." I turned on my heels and stretched my angry steps down the hall. I thought I heard light footsteps follow behind for me briefly, but I did not look back. I made it down to the end of the hall and slammed the door behind me as I climbed up the stairwell.
I fumed my way upstairs walking into my room. In five minutes I had gone from the my greatest high with a piece of music that had a greater pull on me emotionally then anything I had ever experience before in my life — to a gut wrenching low with an ass who with just a few words could rise the very temperature of my blood.
"Alice, I want to go out and get shit faced."
Music inspiration for this chapter:
We Run – Sugarland
Cold Shoulder – Adele
Nowhere Man – (Paul Westerberg version from I Am Sam soundtrack) If this was from Emoward's perspective, this sound would fit the bill.
You Gotta be Strong – Des Ree