Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction using characters and elements from the Star Wars universe, created and trademarked by George Lucas and currently owned by Disney. I do not claim ownership over any Star Wars characters or elements from the Star Wars Universe. This story is for entertainment purposes only, and is not claiming to be any part of the Star Wars canon. Thank you to Disney for letting me play with the characters and not suing me for writing them into a new situation.
NOCTURNE IN THE KEY OF B SOLO
by MALOREIY
~ Chapter 7 ~
Ben tried not to think about the girl. The neighbor, Rey.
He assumed that she'd gotten the envelope with the ticket in it, but he had no idea what she thought of it, or even if she'd be able to attend.
He hadn't received any messages with music requests since that last strangely personal one.
It was true that he was spending almost all of his days at the studio, but he still made a little time to unwind at home and play something light.
In the evenings, of course, even though he told himself it wasn't because she'd said that was when she listened. It was just convenient for him because that was when he got home.
He also told himself he absolutely wasn't listening out for the pitter-patter of doggie feet going by.
And if one time he thought he happened to hear something, and if he also happened to run to the door to look out the peephole to see if he caught a glimpse of anything, he told himself it was only natural to be curious.
He worried that sending the ticket had been crossing a line. He hadn't included any kind of message of explanation, so it's possible she just thought it was junk mail and threw it away.
He'd spent several minutes staring at the ticket and the envelope, his pen hovering over the pristine white surface. But he couldn't think of any words, and so in the end he'd written absolutely none.
Maybe he should have at least written her name.
He paced the backstage area, the tails of his tuxedo whipping behind him every time he turned. He needed to be focusing on his performance, but concentration kept slipping from his grasp.
He didn't know why it seemed so important to know if she was here, but he finally decided that checking on the audience was the only way for him to resolve the matter so he could get get back to work.
It was heavily frowned upon to look out the curtain, but enough performers did it that the backstage crew rarely raised a fuss if you were particularly insistent.
In this case, the stage manager barely even flinched when Kylo Ren gave him a very direct order.
The curtain cracked just the tiniest bit so that he could peer out. The backstage area was in darkness, so the audience wouldn't know that someone was peeking through.
The first thing he did was glance at the aisle where he knew Rey would be sitting if she had decided to come. It was close enough to showtime that she ought to be there already. He'd given her a prime seat up towards the front, right behind Hux and Phasma, though he rather hoped they didn't talk to her at all.
He didn't know he would explain his—their—(not quite) friendship to them.
Neighbors, he reminded himself. They were just neighbors. Two people who shared a floor…and a wall.
But he needn't have worried as the seat was empty. He could clearly see the ever-present scowl on Hux's face and the pinched look on Phasma's, but no one else who could possibly be the girl with the dog and the pretty penmanship.
He took a deep breath, trying not to be disappointed. It was her loss. He'd just wanted to do something nice for her, he convinced himself.
He let his eye wander over the crowd, then, glad to see that the house was almost entirely filled. Snoke would be happy, at least, as long as he didn't screw up. His intense advertising campaign had clearly paid off.
His gaze suddenly snagged on a bright yellow dress. A girl with three funny buns on the back of her head seemed to be having a particularly enthusiastic conversation with some stiff-laced patrons. She kept gesturing with wide arms, while a snobbish woman just kept shaking her head.
He found the contradiction amusing. Everyone around her was old and stiff, the exact replica of every theater patron he'd ever witnessed in the front rows of his Uncle Luke's performances. And here she was….young and bright, like a ray of sunshine among all the dour faces.
When she turned, he saw that her expression was just as bright. She looked up at the stage, and he thought for a moment that she'd seen him, though that was surely impossible.
But her eyes seared him, even from that distance, and he fancied he felt warmth trickling through the darkness.
Quickly, he shut the curtain.
He'd done enough looking and had the answer he needed about the neighbor. She wasn't coming. The last thing he needed was another girl taking up space in his head.
Returning to his place backstage, he didn't resume his pacing. Instead, he closed his eyes, clearing it of everything except his music and the performance Snoke was paying him for.
Ruthlessly, he pushed everything aside—anxiety, nervousness, excitement—and he let his head fill with music while he kept his fingers limber from his earlier warm-ups.
By the time he found himself seated onstage, everything had distilled down to just his music, his art. Distantly, he could feel the audience and the way he carried them along with him on a rollercoaster of sound.
He was aware of their breathlessness, their anticipation, their excitement—and it energized him.
He was powerful, strong, dynamic, explosive.
He knew the audience was exactly where he wanted them. No one would be able to say after this that he wasn't truly a concert-level pianist. The triumph and the thrill built inside him, but he still kept it at arm's length, his discipline iron-clad.
He would show them all.
The final piece was his original work—his sonata.
Snoke hadn't wanted to end on an original composition, thinking to hide it somewhere in the middle in case it wasn't received well, but Ben had insisted.
It was the last thing he wanted them to remember. It was the one he wanted everyone talking about. It was the one he wanted the newspaper articles to write about.
He felt like he would live or die on this performance, and it was somehow untenable that he could choose any other piece to end on.
By the time he played it, the crowd had been primed, pumped up by his already intense performance. Their emotions vibrated in the air, bouncing through him and giving him an energy he'd never imagined as the melody soared out into the auditorium.
The final movement was delicate, yet intricate, full of the longing and yearning he'd felt that night he'd written it. In his mind he saw a life that was pregnant with possibility, optimism, hope and challenge. He opened himself up to it wide, ignoring the twinges of doubt and fear that creeped along the edges, the assertions that he was unloved and unloveable.
He wanted more, he would be more, he was more.
As he reached the finale, the last notes lingered in the air. Before they could even completely fade away, the applause from the audience was deafening.
It crashed around him, bringing him down from his high, and he looked at his hands for a second, surprised even for himself at what he'd just done.
The lights suddenly seemed too bright, and he felt exposed and raw, vulnerable in front of a thousand people. He resisted the irrational urge to cower in on himself.
This approval was what he'd wanted, though he found himself strangely less concerned about it now than he had been before the concert.
He scanned the crowd, his eyes being drawn against his will to the corner where Hux and Phasma sat applauding politely with bored looks on their faces.
He didn't even notice them, because standing right behind them, on her feet in that brilliant yellow dress that he could see even in the glow of the reflected spotlights… was her.
She had three buns on her head, a wide smile on her face, and mascara-streaked tear tracks running all down her cheeks.
Their eyes connected for an instant and he felt a dim explosion in the back of his mind.
But then all the lights were coming up, and he was taking his bows, and being hustled off-stage.
A/N: OMG, you guys. I was helping my family with a project and actually wasn't paying attention at all to what day it was. And I forgot the update. And now it's like 46 hours past when I'd normally think about posting! So here it is. I can't believe no one reminded me at all! Don't worry, the last chapter will be posted as normal, assuming I don't forget again. There's only one more chapter, and then the Epilogue. Yes...they still haven't met yet, I know...that's for the last chapter, haha.
S&R: CONSTRUCTIVE REVIEWS WELCOME (CRW)