Chorus - in theatre and musicals the chorus is the group that sings together. The relayed and commented on the events of the main story and the actions of the main characters.

"Sara, it looks like everyone's gone," Ava said as Sara lead the way around to the back of the building, "Are you sure it's going to okay for us to go in?"

"Yeah, it will be fine," Sara took her hand, giving her a tug when she hesitated.

"If no one's here we can't get in anyway. This is stupid. I overacted. We should get back to the party,"

"Hey, Sharpe, relax. I can get us in." She jogged up the stoop and climbed up onto the bannister, "And you have every reason to react like you did. Instruments aren't cheap,"

"What are you doing?" Ava instinctively put a hand up when Sara climbed up, worried she might slip.

"I got this, don't worry," She smirked down at her, giving a wink. Going on her tiptoes she took hold of a brick above the doorway. She wiggled it, the brick coming out after a few seconds. She shook it, a set of three keys falling out of a space into Sara's hand. "Catch," She said, dropping it down for Ava as she replaced the brick.

"How did you know about that?"

Sara dropped down to the ground, "I happened to be with Professor Stein one morning when he forgot his set of keys," She gave a nonchalant shrug. Taking the keys the opened the backdoor and the gate behind it, "After you Ms. Sharpe," She held open the door.

The center was quiet, almost eerily so. Even when Ava had been there early for sessions with Gideon it didn't feel like this.

"It feels weird being here like this,"

Sara offered her a small smile as she locked the door behind them, "I know right. Once we snuck in here to cover Rip's desk in foil. It was the strangest thing to be in the building and know no one else was here,"

"Covered Rip's desk in a foil?"

"Yeah," Sara laughed, "That was a good one," She led the way down the hallway, coming to the door with Rip's name on it. She tried the knob but it was locked. She cursed under her breath, "Damn. There are no spare keys for his office in the building," She muttered, digging around in her pockets, "I haven't done this in a while," She said as she pulled out a hairpin.

"Should I be worried that you know how to pick locks?"

"There are a lot of things you could be worried about Sharpe. Trust me, this is the least of them," It took a few minutes, but the door clicked opened. Sara gave a fist pump in victory. "Alright, knowing Rip, he would have kept something as important as your violin in the…" She opened a cupboard and sure enough, sitting on the top shelf was a violin.

"Oh thank god," Ava sighed, taking it up gingerly.

"I'm sorry about my asshole friends,"

Shaking her head, Ava let out a sigh, "No, I'm sorry. I just… I don't know why I freaked out so much. From the moment I knew it was missing until just now, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Which is stupid when I think about it now,"

"Stop putting yourself down for how you created. Anyone would have a similar reaction,"

"No, you don't understand,"

Sara was quiet for a moment, "Then, help me understand,"

With a sigh, Ava leaned back against the desk, looking down at the violin. She placed it on the desk, next to her, "My mom got me that violin,"

"Then why would you-"

Ava put up a hand, stopping Sara midsentence. "My parents, mostly my mom was the reason I got into music and the violin. I was five when I started playing,"

"Okay,"

"Back then, I wasn't good or bad to say. I was a kid. Some days I just wanted to play around. Others I'd focus and practice a full piece. The violin became as much a part of my life as showering or eating. I didn't think about it. And then I started getting good. Mom was so proud. A prodigy in the family. My parents would host concerts at home. And that's when I started to question if I really liked playing the violin or not. I was good. There was no doubt about that. But I'm good making the bed too. Doing something every day will do that. I couldn't help but wonder if this was something I wanted or if it was just something I'd been doing every day since I was kid,"

"I've been making my bed every day for who knows how long and I still suck at getting the corners to tuck in neatly,"

Ava snorted, amused, "Sounds very you,"

Sara rolled her eyes and moved next to Ava, "My point is, anyone can devote their lives to something, but some people will reach heights that others can't, regardless of practice,"

"Sara, are you tell me you'll never be good at making your bed?"

"Ha, ha. Funny, Sharpe. You know what I'm saying,"

Ava glanced away, feeling a rush of warm pleasure flooding her chest, "I do… I do enjoy the violin,"

"But you don't know if you're in love with it. Love it in the way it makes sense it's worth devoting so much of your life to it,"

Ava's jaw dropped. Sara had just put into words perfectly her anxieties.

"How did you even…"

"I had the same conflict over ballet. I love ballet. So much. But… for me, when I dance and I really get into it there's a rush that floods my senses. It's like… being weightless. Like I'm hyper aware of every part of my body. Ballet gave me that. It still gives me that. But not often. Not as often as other styles do,"

"I know that rush you're talking about. I haven't felt it… since before my parents kicked me out,"

"What? Oh my god, Ava. I'm sorry,"

"It's fine,"

"Ava,"

"I know people just say that. But I'm okay,"

"How long?"

"Ten months," She said in a small voice, "It was after I came out to them. Ann was there for me. They took me in when the last thing they were ready for was having a kid around. They got it. The same thing happened to them with my grandparents. But Ann was in their twenties with a job already and a place of their own. Since that happened, I've been thinking, what has this been for. What's the point? My parents gave me an instrument to live up a certain image. Why should I try keeping that image when I'm never going to fit that image for them? The perfect accomplished daughter who'll get married to a lawyer or a doctor and have two point five kids with him,"

"You can still have all that, just the lawyer or doctor will be a woman. But I would recommend against having half a kid,"

Ava smiled, "I guess. What I don't know is if I want the violin to be part of it,"

Sara placed a hand on her shoulder, "You know, your music doesn't have to be what your parents made it. It can be whatever you want it to be,"

Ava sighed, staring at her violin, "I know. I just…"

"Don't know if you really love playing or if you love that you're good at it after years of practice,"

"Yeah,"

Sara's smile was reassuring, "You'll figure out Sharpe. You seem pretty smart," The corners of her smile flickers from assuring to mischief, "And if you decide the violin isn't for you, you can join the Legends,"

Ava snorted, "Yeah right. You'll never me to dance with you,"

"Challenge accepted," Sara said, her smirk growing.

Sounds from the hallway drew their attention.

"Oh shit, someone's here," Sara hissed.

"What?"

Sara grabbed Ava and pulled her into a small room. It turned out to be a coat closet, with a few of Rip's jackets and a couple of extra shirts.

"Why did you pull us in here?" Ava asked, hitting a jacket sleeve away from her. The space was cramped. She was pretty sure she was standing on shoes or something because she couldn't find proper footing. Even with her back pressed to the wall, Sara was right in front of her.

"I don't know! I panicked!" Sara hissed, "Why would anyone be here at this time?"

"What? Do you think it's… like… thieves… or…"

"I don't know. And shush. I'm trying to hear,"

They both stopped talking, Sara pressing an ear to the door. Panic and fear welled up in Ava's chest. She took out her phone and dialled 9-1-1, but held off on actually making the call just yet.

"The records are in the cupboard here,"

It was Rip's voice. Sara sighed. Ava let herself relax, going back to the home screen on her phone and reaching for the doorknob. Sara stopped her.

"Do you want to explain why we're coming out of a closet?" she asked in a whisper.

The insinuation alone made Ava's cheek warm.

"Rip, no amount of finical statements are going to make any bank see in our favour," That was Gideon's voice.

"It has to," Rip said, harsher than his usual tone.

"Rip," Gideon's voice said, clear and sure.

"No. There has to be something. Someone who can give is the funds,"

"We've been to every bank in the city, twice. We're already in the red. We have a load we're still paying off. No one is going to invest us,"

"This can't be it,"

"Short of going to the mob for money I don't see how we can pull this off,"

"Is that an option?"

"Is what an option?"

"The mob,"

"Rip, no. We can't,"

There was a sound. If Ava had to guess it was Rip falling into his chair.

"We can't let money be the thing that ends us. There has to be something. More concerts. Something,"

"Look at how much money we made tonight,"

"That's when we were asking for donations. If we charge for a show,"

"And how much are we going to charge? Ten? Fifteen? Even if we charge fifty per ticket we'd have put on eight shows at least. Ten to be sure. And even then, the audience we get here isn't going to come to that many shows. And they certainly aren't going to pay that much each time,"

"Honestly, going to the mob sounds better than having to tell those kids we have to close our doors," Rip said, with such defeat in his voice.

Ava looked at Sara. With the light from her phone screen, she could see her face. But she really she wished she couldn't because Sara looked stricken.

Nardragon~ until the next page.