Someone Else?

Amelia took a deep breath. Her fingers ran along the edge of her violin case. Slowly, she unlatched the clasps and opened it. There her violin sat, lonely and needing. She touched the soft velvet lining and removed her violin and bow. Amelia sat down on a spare chair next to the piano, waiting.

So, Erik Destler was going to be her violin teacher. She was elated to begin lessons, but she wasn't sure about her tutor. Was he educated enough on the subject? She happened to know that he hadn't been taking lessons for very long. But who could tell how this would turn out? Amelia had decided to give it a try; what did she have to loose?

Erik walked into the practice room, and Amelia stood up quickly. He was carrying his own violin case and a small stack of music. She smiled slightly and moved so he could get to the piano. Would he talk and treat her like he usually did? Of course, he would have to talk a lot more, but would his attitude be the same towards her?

"Bonjour, Amelia."

"Bonjour, Monsieur Destler."

As he sat down at the piano bench, her teacher said, "You may call me Erik, if you like."

Yes, she thought, I think he will be the same.

Time passed; Erik taught, Amelia learned. She never imagined that he would be such a detailed instructor. Erik not only explained how to do something, but he showed her how and told her why she should do it that way as well. Amelia felt as though she had learned so much in such little time. But it had been an hour and a half. He excused her and apologized for not paying attention to the time. The strange thing was, Amelia didn't mind. She wanted to keep playing and learning with him. He was a remarkable teacher.

When she returned to her room with her violin, Caitlin sauntered over. Amelia looked over at her friend and smiled eagerly.

Feigning indifference, Caitlin asked, "How did it go?"

"It was wonderful! I never thought I could learn so much! My vibrato is already improving, now that I know how to do it the proper way, and shifting has become so much simpler!"

Caitlin hid her self-satisfied smile.

"She's…amazing. She's so perfect."

Marie smiled as Erik gazed fondly at nothing as they walked. He had enlightened her about how the lesson went. From what she could tell, Erik was probably nervous throughout the entire session, but all went well.

They turned a corner on their way to the dining hall and Marie saw Peter. She looked at Erik for a moment, making sure it was alright to leave him. He gave Peter a nod. Marie smiled at Erik and then went over to Peter. He noticed that they took hands as they walked into the refectory. Peter let go of her hand and his arm went around her waist.

The dining hall was more crowded than usual. There had been a matinee for a new opera today. Erik's eyes swept the room and he found no trace of Amelia. He stood in the doorway, not wanting to enter. Large crowds frequently made him feel claustrophobic. Turning around, he decided to go to his favorite café.

When Erik entered L'Automne Café, he felt relaxed. He usually came here when he needed to think. After sitting down at the table which he always sat at, Erik sighed. There weren't many people there, and their combined voices sounded like a dull hum. He ordered hot orange spice tea and a sandwich. As he took a drink of the hot liquid, Erik wondered where Amelia was eating. His dark eyes looked out of the window and at the people scurrying around on the cobblestone street. Do they not realize that they could be missing something great? he thought glumly.

A rather shrill laugh brought him from his melancholy thoughts. Erik looked across the large room and saw a young woman giggling obnoxiously with a suitor. She was very pretty and appeared to be of high class. However, no upper class woman would draw attention to herself in such a low status café.

"That's Giselle."

Erik's head whipped in front of him to see Caitlin sitting across the table.

"She is the best and the most rude flutist I have ever known." He gave her a strange look.

"What are you doing here?"

"I saw you leave, and I remembered that you don't like crowds…"

"..And?"

"But you do like Amelia," she whispered.

Erik was about to say something, but he saw someone coming out of the corner of his eye. He looked up to find Amelia, a beautiful Amelia. His heart began to race, and he stood up as she sat down.

Giselle laughed loudly again. The three at the table, and quite a few others in the café as well, looked over at the couple. They began kissing without any cares for who was staring at them. Erik looked back across his table and saw Amelia roll her eyes. He smiled. She looked at him and smiled back.

"Can you get any more obnoxious?" Amelia half whispered.

Erik shrugged and continued eating. The two girls ordered some food and ate with him. He wondered if Caitlin had dragged Amelia into this, or if she had willingly come. He hoped it was the latter. Caitlin glanced at the couple again.

"Come on, Caitlin. Don't give them what they want," Erik said when he noticed her staring.

"No…I recognize that man she's with. Where have I seen him before?"

The other two studied Giselle's suitor closely. Erik couldn't even say that he might identify this man to begin with.

"I know who that is!" Amelia whispered, rather excitedly. "That's the manager, Monsieur Francois!"

Amelia felt strange.

The Giselle-Francois incident happened about a month ago. She found out that Giselle had secretly been seeing Francois to try to get more money in her paycheck. Francois obviously obliged. Giselle was with him for a while, but once she got what she wanted, she left him for an older cellist in the orchestra. And that's who she was with now.

Giselle was twenty-two, from Greece, and traveled most of Europe. She played the flute most of her life and was a member of several Opera's orchestras. The Opera Populaire must have appealed to her most because she stayed there the longest. Everyone in the Opera's orchestra knew how Giselle worked. She would be with a man for a month, or two tops, and then once she was satisfied, she moved on to her next prey. She didn't get fired because Monsieur Francois operated in almost the same way. He was rather rich, and of course the chorus girls always threw themselves at him. Giselle didn't mind, and Francois just seemed to be more interested in her youth. So they gave each what the other wanted and went on their own ways.

Amelia felt strange because she knew this wasn't how love was supposed to be used. But this wasn't even love, it was…lust. She was disgusted by it. She just hoped that she would never get into that kind of 'love'.

Her thoughts had interrupted her practice. Amelia shook her head and looked back at her scale music. D Major. She worked on her vibrato as she slowly moved up the scale. That note was too sharp… A few thoughts went through her head as her fingers got closer to the bridge. Amelia squinted when the note pitches weren't correct, and then fixed them. She bit her lip angrily. She needed help.

After packing up her violin, Amelia left the practice room and searched for Erik. He was usually watching all types of rehearsals. She looked in a few theatres, checking if there was anyone sitting in the audience. She found him in the third auditorium.

"Erik, do you think you have time to help me with my scales?" Amelia whispered to him as she kneeled next to his seat.

Erik stood up. "Of course. I always have time to assist you." Amelia smiled at him and they walked together back to the practice room.

She unpacked and put the scale music on a stand. The first octave was beautiful. Her vibrato was magnificent and the tone quality was perfect. As the scale ascended, however, Amelia neglected vibrato and her fingers tripped over each other. Erik stopped her once she reached the top note.

"Keep your fingers on their tips. Make sure you move your thumb with the rest of your hand when you shift; that is a common mistake. Rock your elbow further when you go higher and don't forget about vibrato."

Amelia blinked as she processed everything her teacher had just said. She found it amazing that he knew exactly what she was doing wrong. Erik cued her and played the scale on the piano with her. Amelia applied all of his tips into her technique and found that her playing had drastically improved. Once she was done she grinned at Erik.

"You are amazing!"

Erik smiled his first real smile in a long time.

No, you are.

Later that week, Amelia woke up prepared for her job. She went to the mailroom and found Richard with a rather large pile of mail on the counter in front of him. He put one last package on the pile and looked around it at her. Amelia raised her eyebrows.

"I guess this week is mail week," Richard said, shrugging.

He handed her a canvas bag to put the mail in. This week was the first time she had ever needed to carry everything in a bag. Richard gave her a look when they heard Lucas's voice from the back. Amelia smiled slightly. Lucas came through the doorway of the back room.

"Would you like some help?" Lucas asked, his eyes hopeful.

"Sure. This bag is kind of heavy." Amelia smiled at him. This seventeen-year-old was almost desperate to just be alone with her.

Lucas smiled and took a few parcels out of the bag and carried them. The first stop was, as always, Monsieur Francois. He had made himself a little mailbox outside of his office when he and Giselle were together, that way Amelia wouldn't disturb him (For, ahem, obvious reasons). And after they stopped seeing each other, it stayed where it was, so, the pair put Francois's letters in his makeshift mailbox.

Next was Monsieur Reyer. Amelia always liked going to his office. Charles was a very kind man and he almost always talked with her about joining the orchestra when she was ready. Those conversations always lifted her spirits. Today, they really didn't have time to chat because of all the mail to deliver.

Lucas and Amelia caught up on the Giselle gossip of the week while delivering paychecks and letters to the orchestra members. Apparently, Giselle and the cellist, Maurice, had gone out and made a public display of their affection for each other. No one was surprised; it was typical Giselle.

The final stop was Caroline Dubois. After the door opened, the small woman thanked Amelia for relaying her mail. Then she looked at Lucas.

"And I will see you later this afternoon."

Lucas nodded, smiling. Once Madame Dubois closed the door, Amelia looked at her friend curiously.

"I help make the sets. Right now we're painting a landscape scene. I also help situate the set pieces on stage. That's what I want to do. I want to be the stage set manager once Madame Dubois retires."

"I didn't know you painted."

"Not very many people do." Lucas shrugged humbly.

Amelia smiled at his modesty.

The next few days Lucas assisted Amelia in delivering the mail. She noticed that he liked to watch her as they walked. Suddenly, she felt bad. She was giving him mixed signals. It must appear to him that she wanted him along because she liked him. But that wasn't the case. She enjoyed his company as a friend, nothing more.

They finished their route and she was about to go to violin lessons. Amelia said goodbye and was turning to leave, but Lucas took her hand. He gently pulled her to him. His eyes looked into either of hers. He was going to kiss her. She couldn't do this to him! As Lucas leaned in, Amelia pulled away.

"I – I'm sorry, Lucas. I just like you as a friend. I'm sorry."

Lucas looked rather hurt, but he understood. "Is there someone else?"

Amelia immediately thought of Erik. What? "I'm not sure."

After dinner two weeks later, Erik had asked Amelia to listen to him play a few pieces from the upcoming opera. She'd happily obliged.

Now as he played the melody of the passionate love song, he wished that he could write something as epic as this. His eyes slid closed as his fingers ascended the string, seducing a crescendo from the instrument. Erik thought of Amelia every time he practiced this song. Forgetting that she was watching him across the room, he let his thoughts wander to her. The way her hair curled slightly at the ends; the way her eyes changed colors slightly as she moved.

When Erik finished, his eyes were still closed. Amelia erupted in applause. He looked up at her, rather surprised. She smiled at him.

"That was absolutely perfect. Beautiful!"

He smiled back. "Did you think there was anything I needed to work on? Anything that I could improve?"

Amelia thought for a moment. "Perhaps your tempo. But that was all that I noticed… mind you, it was hardly noticeable."

"Would you like to try it?" Erik asked.

Amelia's eyes widened. "Do you think I can play it?"

"..Do you?"

She used his violin because she hadn't brought hers along. Amelia relished in the warmth of the chin rest. She opened her eyes, put the bow on the E string, and stared at the music. It was high, very high. Moving her fingers into a higher position, Amelia started the easiest part of the melody. Erik murmured a few notes or fingerings throughout the chorus whilst playing the piano with her.

A few notes were a bit unsure, but that was expected during sight-reading. Her vibrato was surprisingly strong. He loved the fact that she was doing it the way he had asked her to. Posture, a bit sluggish, but he knew she was concentrating on the feel of the music. The upper half of Amelia's body swayed a little with her bow direction. Erik smiled slightly. Knowing that she was into the music that much gave him a sense of accomplishment: for himself and for her.

"That was great for the first time. I'm impressed."

"I do have a wonderful teacher," Amelia replied looking at him with a hint of something Erik couldn't quite place in her eyes.

After Amelia left, Erik felt like writing. When he had studied her, lyrics scuttled throughout his mind. Music accompaniment followed the lyrics and had fit perfectly in his head. Hopefully it would come out just as smoothly onto parchment.

Erik rushed down to his home, carrying his violin. Once he reached the bottom level, he was rather surprised to barely be out of breath. Perhaps these stairs were keeping him in shape. Standing on the 'threshold', Erik surveyed his home.

He had found – or made, rather – a way to get there without going into the water. There was now a doorway in the 'music room'. The old piano was retired from the Opera and Erik had gladly taken it. There were sheets of music, finished and uncompleted, all over the piano. His music stand held the current solo piece he was practicing. Erik set down his violin case next to the stand. His room was a small bed, more sheets of music, and a small clock that Marie had salvaged for him. It was currently eight o'clock.

He walked to his piano and sat on the bench with paper and writing utensils. The grand staff was already written out for him. Erik silently thanked Monsieur Reyer. He wrote a few words and phrases on a separate sheet of paper – lyrics for later. I feel myself surrender, was a phrase that stuck in his head the most. The orchestral music flowed beautifully as his mind invented this song.

Dramatic drums at the beginning. Quiet singing confessing innermost secrets… about love? It sounded like a love song to him. Orchestra softly enters. It must be a strong male singer; wide vocal range.

Erik scribbled these thoughts down. Then he moved to the staff. His mind gave him the notes, the piano perfected them. Different orchestral parts intertwined to make chords and emotional harmonies. Erik felt his hands shaking as he wrote the orchestra solo. Everything was so perfect! All of the parts combined flawlessly, and he could imagine the male voice completing the song.

Alright, so he only had the beginning down, but it included all strings and drums. That had to be an accomplishment in its own. Erik imagined this song flowing charmingly in an opera. He wanted the world to hear it and its perfection… once he finished it, of course. But how could he get the world to hear it? There was no way he would write an opera just to go along with this song. And besides, even if he did write an opera, there was no telling if it would even be performed.

Erik sighed. This would just have to be another one of his beautiful works, shoved into the darkness like him. He looked at the sheets of paper spread across the piano. Erik decided to play the beginning all the way through for the fifth time. It was now eleven o'clock.

I have been wrong about you
Thought I was strong without you
For so long nothing could move me
For so long nothing could change me

Now I feel myself surrender
Each time I see your face
I'm captured by your beauty
Your unassuming grace

This song needed more, of course. But it was late, and Erik was dead tired. He had worked on this song for three hours without even looking up from his work. After gathering the music together, Erik set the pile on top of the piano thoughtfully. He changed into his night clothes and slowly crawled into his bed. His mask now lied next to a candle and the clock on the side table. Then he blew out the candle and was enveloped in darkness once more.

The song that Erik is writing is actually My Confession by Josh Groban. I heard it and knew it had to be in this story. Don't worry, it will get more action later.