A/N: I hope you all are staying safe during these scary and horrible times. Sending all my love to all of you who have been reading.
She can't say things have been going exactly well. They don't talk much. They rehearse. She goes home. Sometimes Ben has this look in his eyes that she can't quite interpret. Eyes wide, fringed by those lovely eyelashes of his. He looks like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.
She pets Kylo. The real Kylo.
She brings him treats.
She and Ben talk about the music, they rehearse. They work well together, despite the obvious tension. It's never addressed. Not during their next few rehearsals, but she catches him watching her sometimes, a slight furrow between his brows.
When she walks into their final rehearsal on stage at the Snoke Enterprises auditorium, she feels, if not confident, at least mostly ready for this. She is not ready to face Snoke, and seeing him standing so close to the stage, clutching his cane and grinning, sets her on edge.
She hates him.
And she's never hated anyone before.
She can feel the loathing work its way up her spine until she pauses in her walk toward the stage and shivers. Snoke's smile broadens even more, like a weasel just awaiting its prey. "Welcome, young Rey," he says.
She stops to glare at him for a moment. "Good afternoon," she manages to grate out.
He offers up a harsh laugh. "I hear your rehearsals are going well."
"Well enough," she says, glancing at the stage. "Where's…" Here she hesitates, bites back the next word. Ben…he can't know I call him Ben. "Where's Kylo?"
Snoke's eyes narrow on her, and then the look dissipates. Almost like it wasn't there to begin with. "He's up at my office taking care of a few last-minute things."
"Things?"
"Nothing you need to worry your pretty…well, that's not quite the right word is it?" The last is murmured with a slight edge to the words. "Nothing you need to worry your plain little head about," he finally finishes.
He smirks, the evil grin of the Grinch as he waits for Whoville to wake up and find out just what he's done.
"You think your opinion of my looks matters to me?" Rey shoots back with. "Do you think I haven't been called names before?" She takes a step toward him. "I'm not afraid of you," she says as she leans closer to him. He's taller than her, but not terribly tall. His body is stooped and he leans heavily on his cane as he continues to watch her. His smirk never falters. "I'll never be afraid of you."
He says nothing for a moment, just watches her. "You should be," he finally says. "Displease me and I could have your whole career."
Rey crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. "You're not everything, Snoke," she says after a moment. "And in the end, the good people will win." She takes another step toward him. "You won't take my music from me."
"We shall see."
"Okay sorry I'm late!" comes Ben's voice from behind her, and she takes in a deep breath. When she turns to meet his eyes, she sees him watching her with a bit of a furrow between his brow. "Everything alright here?"
"Fine," Rey mutters.
"I was just telling your little violinist here that if she pulls any tricks the night of the concert like she did at rehearsal, I'll have her head."
She wants to shoot something back, wants to tell him to kiss her ass, but instead she simply turns on her heel and storms up the steps to the stage. "Let's run this program," she tosses over her shoulder.
There's silence for a moment, and then she hears Ben's heavy footsteps on the stairs behind her. He says nothing more as he moves to the piano to begin his preparation ritual at the same time she begins her own.
Snoke, thankfully, is blessedly silent as they do so. This is it, she thinks. The final rehearsal, their moment to show Snoke what they're made of.
The rehearsal goes terribly. Of course it does. Ben can see it start to unravel right from the opening notes of the Respighi. They're usually together on this one, easily playing off each other, the music bouncing back and forth organically. But not this time. This time each moment feels like they're trying to wrest the piece under their control.
At the end of it, he's left breathing hard, but not from exhilaration.
From concern.
From worry.
From terror.
He looks at Snoke, who's sitting in the front row, hand resting on his cane and leaning forward with a knowing smirk on his face.
It's his presence causing this. He has no doubt of it. He wishes he could pretend he doesn't understand where Rey is coming from. He wishes he could soothe her, hold her close, tell her that Snoke doesn't matter.
But he does matter. He has to. And he hates it. Every bit of him wants to protect her, protect himself as well. Every bit of him wants to squash Snoke beneath his bootheel. But instead he's beholden to him, forced to lap at his feet like a dog, brought to heel or tossed aside like so much chattel.
Snoke says nothing, though Ben's not sure if that's truly merciful. He just waves his hand to tell them to go on.
With a nod, Ben turns back to Rey. "You ready?" The words are soft, but he watches as she tenses, her shoulders pulling in and up just slightly.
"Yes," she finally says, putting her bow up to the violin. He doesn't start right away, watches her for a moment. Her hand trembles a little and a shiver traces up her spine, but she nods firmly.
"Good," he says.
The rest doesn't go much better. They're together at least. They play off of each other. But it's dull, strangely lifeless. There's a tension there, in every movement of his fingers, in every movement of her bow. It's one of the roughest run-throughs they've had.
But they make it.
At the end, Rey drops her bow and violin to the side and turns toward him. Ben nods.
And then all is silence. Snoke stands, makes his way closer to the stage. "You're not ready," he says.
Ben isn't sure what to say. Rey is watching him, and he feels naked under the intensity of her gaze. "We are," he finally manages to say.
"You…" Snoke starts to say, but Rey cuts him off.
"A bad dress rehearsal means a good concert."
Snoke scoffs. "That old superstition?"
Rey shrugs. "We'll be fine." Ben can't quite decide if she really believes it or she's just angry enough at Snoke to not care what she says.
Snoke doesn't take his eyes off Rey, and Ben can see the wheels turning in his head. He wants her gone and with how much they clearly hate each other, he's frankly surprised she's still here. He wants you to fail, creeps in the insidious thought. He wants an excuse to ruin you, to destroy you.
Ben finally nods and turns to pack up his stuff.
He doesn't know where these thoughts are coming from, can't imagine why he would feel that way. But they're there, deep inside him just clamoring to get out. He knows there's a truth there, knows it all the way deep down in his soul.
Snoke watches her for another moment, eyes narrowed, cold, and then he finally smiles. "Yes, well, then…I suppose if you think so, you know best." He turns then and walks away.
And Ben is pretty sure that Snoke doesn't believe that for a moment.
Backstage before a concert is always a busy and somewhat frantic place. Sound engineers with their recording equipment, lighting experts, the head of the organization sponsoring the concert waiting to step onstage and welcome the audience. And probably sell something too. They're usually trying to sell something, especially since Snoke is involved and he Rey is pretty sure he likes nothing more than lining his own pockets with cash.
This feels…more, somehow. Rey stands off in a corner alone, violin under her chin as she carefully tunes each string, then tunes them again.
"That's the fourth time you've adjusted the strings."
Her head shoots up and her eyes lock on Ben. He looks…kind, she realizes. There's a softness to his mouth and a warmth to his eyes.
She takes a deep breath. "Yes," she murmurs. "I suppose it is." She shakes her head then and tries to smile.
"Nervous?"
"Hmmm…no." And then she lets out a soft huff of laughter. "Terrified is more like it."
He nods at that. "I was, too. Before. I suppose there's still a bit of it there in me, but…" He shrugs.
"No more?"
"It's an act," he says in response. "You realize that, don't you? Go out there, shoulders back and squared, convince the audience that they're lucky to be there, to hear what we have to offer." He starts to reach out a hand, almost settles it on her shoulder, before drawing back. "Remember you're not you out there. I'm not…well…I'm Kylo Ren. I know my part. I give them the show they expect."
It takes her a moment to realize he's wearing the opera cloak and black leather gloves she's seen him wear at the concerts she's gone to. He'll make a good show of taking off the cloak, of peeling the gloves from his hands. He does it for them she realizes. It's not him. It's just a part of the performance, part of becoming Kylo Ren and not Ben Solo.
"We didn't pick a stage name for me."
He shrugs. "No, not exactly. You're listed only as Rey in the program."
She laughs. "Like Cher?"
"Something like that. They'll wonder who you are, where you come from. Are you related to me? Are you my paramour? It gets them talking and is almost as much a part of the performance as the music itself."
She just shakes her head. "This is the crap that Snoke is selling them. All smoke and mirrors. The only thing that should matter is the music." She's passionate about that. The music is all. It's the thing, the only important part. The rest is just schlock that could be pared away. "We should be able to perform in our pajamas and the concert should be just as amazing."
He's watching her with a small half-smile on his face. He says nothing else and so she cocks her head to the side.
"What?" she asks.
He shrugs. "I'm not sure that would go over so well with the audience."
She smirks. "Can you imagine the look on Snoke's face?"
He sucks in a breath and chokes for a second.
"Right?" she asks. "Just think about it. His eyes bugging out and all that anger. He might die of a heart attack right then and there."
"That would ruin the performance," Ben responds with. And when he turns to look at her, his eyes are wide in a rather overexaggerated way.
"Are you sure? The audience might consider it our best performance." And then she laughs. It feels good to laugh, here right before they go out on stage for the first time together.
The look on Ben's face is one she can only describe as fascinating. One corner of his mouth twitches a little, one of his eyes twitches. He wrinkles his nose, like he's trying to prevent a sneeze.
But then he laughs.
A real laugh. And it completely transforms his entire face. He looks years younger, and she finds she likes this version of him even more than the usual stone-faced sullen Ben she's been getting to know. Oh, he's passionate. To a fault almost. But there's always something so sobering about his presence. Fun does not seem to be in his vocabulary and oh, how she would like to bring that out in him more.
It takes him a moment to gather himself together, and she watches as he takes a deep breath and lets the mantle of Kylo Ren fall back over him. "Are you ready?" he asks. His voice is quiet, earnest, and she closes her eyes for a moment.
"Yes. Yes I think I am."
"Good."
She watches as the lights on the stage go down and Hux waltzes onto stage. He's not a musician, she's heard. But he likes to be around them, and he certainly has the appropriately snooty attitude so many expect of her brethren. He addresses the audience with a fake smile that she's sure must dazzle some of them. She closes her eyes for a moment, centering herself.
You can do this.
As Hux finishes up his speech to the audience, Ben turns toward her and holds out his hand. She doesn't say anything, just raises an eyebrow as she puts her hand gently into his. His hand closes around hers, large and warm and so very powerful, squeezing gently for just a moment before releasing her.
And then he's gone, striding off onto stage, all signs of Ben Solo gone. He's Kylo Ren now, and every step, every movement, is calculated to entice the audience. She can only hope that she's worthy of being on the same stage.
He doesn't know why he took her hand, doesn't know why that one little squeeze of her hand, feeling her squeeze back, has left him feeling a little unsettled. There are butterflies in his stomach, and he knows that this performance…this one single performance…could make or break them.
He can't see Snoke from his position on the stage, something he's always thankful for. He knows where he sits, can feel the weight of his gaze, but he can't lock eyes with him.
Nothing changes in the opening of his routine. He removes the opera cloak and tosses it carelessly over the coat rack. It's meant to look disdainful, like it's nothing to him. It's as practiced as anything else on the stage that night. He strips off his gloves carefully, placing them on the edge of the piano where they'll sit for the entirety of the performance.
But then his routine alters. He turns toward the side of the stage and holds out his hand. This time its bare, an invitation, and Rey strides out, violin and bow clutched tightly to her chest. This is the part she finds the most nerve-wracking, he knows. Rey is used to simply coming on stage, setting up and playing.
This, though, is theatre.
He steps closer and she puts her hands in his. As she looks up at him, he can see her trembling just slightly. Here he's supposed to turn toward the audience, Rey with him, and then they'll bow and curtsy and get on with the music.
He doesn't do that. And he breaks the moment just slightly as he leans over her hand and presses the most chaste of kisses to the back of her hand. He looks up at Rey as he's bowed over her hand and he can see the color high on her cheeks, the wide eyes.
And then she smiles.
And together they turn toward the audience. They're already applauding, a few on their feet at just the unexpected presence of Rey, at the kiss to her hand.
He doesn't smile as he bows.
She smiles as she curtsied, a bright sunny thing. The complete opposite of him. And that's how they're playing this. He's dressed in somber blacks, as he always is. It accentuates his pale skin and the hands that are a near-blur as they chase along the keys.
It took some time to decide on the appropriate outfit for Rey. They had agreed, so long ago now it seemed like another lifetime though in reality it's only been a handful of weeks, that she would not be wearing a miniskirt. She wants to appear strong, a good complement to him, and so they've put her in a dress of bright purple. It's alluring without being overly sexy, floor length to cover the fact that even now Rey refuses to wear heels, a silver band about the waist that reflects the light when she moves. It's held up with one strap, leaving the shoulder of her bow arm bare and completely free to move.
She looks…striking. He's been half in love with her since he met her, half hard whenever she comes too close. And now, standing next to her as they acknowledge the audience, her hand carefully placed in his, he thinks he's done for.
He can't deny his attraction to her. He can't deny that he feels something for her, a connection far beyond any he's felt with anyone else.
It's terrifying.
With a deep breath, he releases her and moves to his seat at the piano. Rey takes up her spot in the curve of it, raises her violin to her chin.
And then they're off, and it feels like the entire universe, their entire universe at least, is riding on this.
It's exhilarating, Rey thinks, as they finish the Respighi. The audience is completely silent for a moment after they hit the final notes, as if they're waiting for them to breathe, to move, to do something that tells them how to react.
She lowers the violin, and the audience goes wild, erupting into an applause she's never heard before. Her smile is wide and happy, and she knows there's still so much more to come, but she can't help but look over at Ben (Kylo, she reminds herself) and smile at him too.
He doesn't smile.
She supposes that's against the rules of Kylo Ren.
But he does nod at her, and she can see one side of his lips quirk up for just a moment. It's not much, but it's something. And perhaps more importantly, it's hers and hers alone.
He wants to smile. Fuck it, but he wants to. But he knows it's not part of the contract, knows that it's not who Kylo Ren is. Ben Solo might smile, might thrill with the wonder of a performance where everything just feels right. But Kylo Ren is somber, intense. He expects perfection. He should expect no more here.
So she turns back to the audience, smiles at them once more, and bows her head in acknowledgement. She can see Ben shift in his seat and so she raises the violin to her chin again.
The audience quiets.
And then Ben starts with the quiet, jagged opening melody of the Shostakovich work, Rey weaving into the texture a moment later. It's subdued compared to the ending of the Respighi, but it gives them a chance to shine together as their melodies wind around each other.
It's not her favorite piece, but she can see why Ben picked it. It's intense, but in a different way than anything else on the program. She can lean into this one, draw it out, and she knows that the intensity is mirrored on her face as it is on Ben's.
She looks over at him on occasion, when they need to come in together, slow down together. They're perfectly in sync and she can't believe she had never played with him before. She should have been playing with him her entire life. Because this is where she was meant to be.
She's sure of it.
They finish the work, fading out on a tremolo, their eyes locked on each other as they come to the final notes. It drifts into the hall around them and the audience's eyes remained locked on them. She can feel them, but she's not looking out into the darkness of the hall. She's still watching Ben.
As one, they take a deep breath. His hands fall from the keys. Hers lower the violin.
The audience erupts into applause and Rey releases her breath.
It's over.
Well, the first half at any rate. Ben stands then and steps toward her. They hadn't talk about this, hadn't rehearsed a mid-performance bow and leaving the stage. He steps toward her and she can see the sheen of sweat at his brows, his hair sticking a bit to the sides of his face. His lips are parted and he's flushed, and he is so very beautiful.
She's never thought of a man as beautiful. But this one? With his dark hair, intense eyes, those plush lips? The word seems to fit.
She smiles up at him as he once again extends a hand. They execute a perfectly timed bow and curtsy and then Ben is waving her ahead of him. She leaves the stage with her head held high, violin comfortable in her hand. She turns her head at the last minute, as the house lights come up, and she can see him.
Snoke.
He's watching her with his hands steepled together and his lips pursed. As soon as their eyes meet, his face transforms into a feral smile. There is no warmth there, and Rey shivers as she steps into the darkness of backstage.
She turns to him almost as soon as they're off and he's surprised by the fierce hug she gives him. "That was amazing," she says against his chest and he can feel the words down to his very soul.
"It went well," he says and then cringes. Those weren't the words he really wanted to say. It went more than well. It was probably the most profound experience of his life. He knew they had it in them to make a team like none other. And so far they were proving it to the entire audience.
"I think it went more than well," she says as she pulls away.
He smiles than and is gratified to watch her falter a little, her eyes going wide for just a moment, before she smiles again. "Yes," he finally says. "Far more than well."
She nods and glances around the backstage area. There aren't many milling about but she knows, she can feel his presence as he moves closer. "Snoke," she murmurs.
"He usually comes backstage to berate me halfway through," Ben says, as if this is a normal thing for a manager to do.
"Does he?"
He shrugs.
"Well, I'm not letting him get me down. I'll be in my dressing room." She turns on her heel than and he wants to reach out to her, wants to pull her back, tell her he doesn't want to face Snoke alone.
But she's gone before he can think of the words, before he can let them come out of his mouth. And then he hears the sound of Snoke's cane. He doesn't even want to turn to him. He should have escaped to his dressing room too. Not that it would have stopped Snoke. He'd barged in before whether he wanted him to or not. It's just Snoke's way.
"That was interesting," Snoke murmurs as he comes closer to Ben.
"Interesting? In what way?"
"The audience seemed to like you," Snoke says instead of answering the question.
"Yes," Ben says. What else can he say to that, really? They had the audience hanging on every note, sitting on the edges of their seat, and waiting with baited breath for the next cadence, the next crashing crescendo.
"Good."
"Is that all you have to say?" Ben asks, the words sharper than intended.
Snoke says nothing for a moment, but Ben can feel the anger vibrating in the air around them. Snoke doesn't like to be challenged. He doesn't like being reminded that Ben is the real star. That grates on him for some reason and Ben has never been able to get to the bottom of it.
Jealousy, maybe, that Ben is the rock star of the classical world and Snoke is just his behind the scenes manager.
"There will be much to go over later," Snoke demurs.
"Of course there will be." Ben looks around himself, but there's no one there to save him from this unnecessary conversation. "If you'll excuse me," he grates out. "I need to make sure I look fresh for the second half."
"Of course," Snoke says. "But Kylo?" There's a strange sneer to the name, as if Ben will forget who he really is if Snoke doesn't remind him. "Let's not slobber all over the girl this time, shall we? She's your musical partner, not your lover. The audience doesn't need to see your obvious lust for the chit."
Ben stares at him for a moment, and then turns on his heel and rushes out of the backstage area. The last thing he needs is to have a conversation with Snoke about his obvious lust.
It's more than that, Ben, old buddy…and you know it…
He pushes the whole thing away. He has the rest of the concert to do.
Rey is thankful that when she returns, Snoke is gone. But she can see how shaken Ben is. "Are you okay?" she asks as she draws near him.
He startles, and his head comes up, his eyes meeting hers. "I'm…" He shakes his head. "I'm fine."
She nods.
Hux strides past them a moment later, pausing to turn back. "Are you ready?" Rey really hates the way every word that comes out of his mouth is a sneer. He's most unpleasant, but Ben seems to deal well enough with him,
Ben only offers Hux a curt nod and then Hux is walking onto stage to announce a car with its lights on in the parking lot and a reminder that there is a gathering to celebrate their newfound partnership that is open to all VIPs and of the theatre.
And then Ben is walking onto the stage. Alone, this time. This is his part of the concert. Rey steps a little closer to the edge of the stage. She can almost see Snoke there, through the dimming house lights. The entire audience erupts into applause, but Snoke stays still, his snake-like gaze on Ben.
She watches as Ben crashes his way through the Rachmaninoff Preludes that he's chosen. The dark C-sharp minor prelude, the G-sharp minor one, roiling with sinister emotions. There's no reprieve, and it still bothers her, that there's nothing light out there. It's like peering through the dark, only to find yourself looking into an equally dark room.
When Ben stands at the end, one hand lightly resting on the piano, she takes a deep breath. One more work, one more performance with Ben. She waits for him to turn toward her, and then he crooks a finger. She moves immediately to step out of the shadows, her light, flowing dress moving easily around her feet as she strides across the stage.
She shoots a glance at Snoke, tilts her chin, and allows Ben to take her hand once again. It's a light touch this time, no brushing of his lips across her knuckles. He just takes her hand and brings it halfway to him, and then lets it go.
She's not sure what that's about.
It's not like they rehearsed such things, but there's a strange intensity in his eyes as he does it, and she watches his eye flit once, then again, out to the audience. Out to Snoke.
The Beethoven performance is the one she's been concerned about the entire time. It's intense. It's long. It's a complete powerhouse of a piece and it leaves her feeling wrung out every time. Ending with the work after already playing several exhausting ones worries her.
For a moment, right in the beginning, she's afraid they've lost their energy, their spark. But then Ben looks up and his eyes meet hers and there it is. She keeps her eyes on him, plays to Ben and not the audience. When they finish the work, they're both breathing hard, like they'd run a marathon instead of just played a piece of music. Their eyes are still locked, and she notes that Ben's are overly bright. She can feel tears pricking at the corner of her own eyes. This is what it's all about. This is what they are about.
There's only a brief pause before the audience roars to life and the spell is broken. Rey blinks and turns her eyes to the audience.
They're on their feet.
There's a call for an encore and Rey realizes they never contemplated such a thing.
She's smiling so hard her face hurts, and she turns toward Ben when he stands and walks to her. The audience's applause dies down for a moment. Even Rey isn't sure what he's doing. They're supposed to bow, to curtsy, and then leave the stage. The end.
Instead, Ben comes over and wraps his hand around one of hers, drawing her in closer. Too close. Is he going to kiss her?
And he almost does, leaning toward her to press his lips lightly to her cheek. Only then do they bow to the audience. And she can see Snoke then. His eyes are narrowed on them and she's pretty sure there's a tightness to his mouth that wasn't there before. It sends a shiver down her spine.
He's going to do something.
He's going to do something terrible.
She just knows it.