Prologue:

Rory's 16th Birthday Party
November 2000

Stepping into the hallway to find solace from the suffocating crowd, a soft haunting piano concerto whispered in her ear. She knew the melody, but could not remember from where. She followed the music down the hallway as it makes a crescendo in her ear. She stood in front of the Gilmore music room and placed her hand on the door knob. She hesitated a moment for fear that if she opened the door, the music would stop. She held her breathe and slowly opened the door and slipped quietly inside.

The room was dim with only a lamp and the outside moonlight. Clearly, the person playing the piano knew how to play by memory, letting his fingers glide on the ivory keys with ease and confidence. The man continued to play with slow deliberate movements without showing any sign that he knew someone was watching him.

Her eyes were slowly adjusting to the dimness of the room yet, she did not recognize the person seated in front of the piano. He kept his head down and the darkness hid any distinguishing features.

"Quasi una fantasia," he said quietly in Italian.

She let out a soft gasp, startled out of her silent reverie. She responded, "Almost a fantasy?"

A small smile played on his lips, "This was written for a Countess. A sonata created from a passionate love affair between a composer and his student."

She came closer to the man sitting on the piano bench. She asks, "If it's about a passionate love story, why does it sound so heart-breaking."

He stops abruptly and turns to her, "Because passion hits you like a force of thunder, ravishes you with that same intensity, and leaves you haunted if you survive."

She could finally see the face of her mysterious stranger. He had a half smile that showed amusement. His usually bright blue eyes were darkened by the reflection of the moonlight. His golden hair rebelliously tousled in contrast to his sharp tuxedo. He had a body of a man yet his face gave away his age. Perhaps it's the devilish smile that gave away his youth or maybe it was his eyes that laughed, even in the dark.

He stands up and makes his way towards her. She wants desperately to tear her gaze away from his but is unable to. She tucks a strand of her long chestnut hair behind her ear, a nervous habit she acquired at an early age. She holds onto his gaze as if in a dare. He was so close that she can feel his breathe on her.

He looks intensely into her blue eyes.

"It will strike you when you least expect it," he said before grazing his lips on hers.