"It's beautiful," a woman said with a smile.

"Thank you." An aristocratic seeming man swept his fingers across the ebony and ivory keys. The wondrous music filled the gilded concert hall.

"You should play it at a Benefit."

The music halted. "I wish. It would make those stuffy nobles smile for once. I want everyone to be as happy as I am when I am with you. Maybe my music can do some good."

"Roderich…" the woman's gorgeous dress faded and aged into a tattered shapeless cloth.

"Elizabeta!" Roderich flew out of the bench. The shiny hall began to crumble. His swallow tail suit started to thin out like moths were eating it.

"That can never happen-"

A little boy in a green sailor suit cut off Elizabeta's morose speech. "Shut it, Lady! He can make people happy!"

The man stared at the child. "Who are you?"

"Peter! I'm a Dream!"

"What are you talking about?"

Peter turned around and a little village appeared in place of the crumbling concert hall. The little Dream had worked very hard to undo the damage inflicted on Wonderland by his first, very wrathful Alice. It didn't have all of its former luster but that would soon change when he gained more magic.

"I just told you, Mister. You know…I can help you with your wish. You want to make people happy with what makes you happy."

"Yes," Roderich conceded. "However, I cannot play in real life. I don't have the money to buy a piano and if I did my hands are too clumsy to play a simple tune."

"I can help you with that. Dream of me and I'll use my magic to fix your hands."

"I am a realistic man; I do not believe you." Roderich turned away. He was met with the wide chest of a tall man.

"My apologies, comrade." The man waved.

"No, it's my fault."

The man grinned. His odd amaranthine eyes glinted friendlily. He was then pulled away by two very beautiful women. His face was familiar to Roderich. He felt as if he had seen it somewhere before. The paper, maybe?

Peter followed Roderich's gaze. He stared sadly at the tall man laughing with his sisters. He wanted to remember his failed Alice the way he had been before he was corrupted. Before the tree roots trapped his body like a savage cage.

The blue Ace of Hearts in his hand was a new hope. When the flowing script had appeared, the Dream's heart was fluttering. He couldn't stay in the past; he had to go on.

"Mister," Peter called.

Roderich jumped. He had been admiring the scenic village. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay! Mister, it wouldn't hurt for you to dream of me. I don't cost anything and I can give you a rest from the world as well as fix your hands."

The man frowned.

"Please? Please, Mister?" Peter clasped his hands together.

Roderich couldn't say no to a child, especially when it didn't cost him any money. His neighbor's children asking for past was a different story. "Alright,"

"Yay!" Peter cheered. He almost cried in delight. "I have a new Alice."

"Excuse me?"

The Dream was too busy celebrating to notice. "A new Alice! A new Alice!"

"I am a man. That is just rude." Roderich pouted.

When Roderich woke in his little apartment, he felt well rested. He hadn't had a good night sleep in months. He almost didn't want to get up. However, Elizabeta, who slept at his side, stirred.

"Mmm…Good mornin'," she mumbled. The brunette slipped out of bed to get ready for work after kissing her boyfriend's forehead.

Having lost his warm bed partner, Roderich got up as well. "Good morning," his feet touched the icy and rough wood floor. When he trudged to the bathroom to brush his teeth, he noticed Elizabeta giving him a strange look.

He dismissed it as he brushed his teeth. The mirror was cloudy at the edges and had a crack running up the side. As usual, Roderich traced the crack until it branched towards the center. That was when he noticed his blue eyes were brighter than usual. Normally they were a deep navy blue, now they were crystalline sapphire. He scrambled to get his glasses on. Nope, it was not some trick; his irises had changed hues overnight.

They were the exact color of the sky or Peter's bright eyes.

"Peter…" he mumbled. "…he was…real?"

"Who was, honey?" Elizabeta asked as she tied her apron around her waist.

"No one, love," Roderich said dismissively. "It was only a Dream."

Roderich immediately noticed a change after a few nights of Dreaming of Wonderland. His hands did not shake as much. He could easily twirl pens, pencils, and batons. The manager of his place of work noticed as well.

Giovanni was a tall, muscular man who didn't seem like the type to own a music store. His Italian roots, however, made him love the fine arts. "You're getting pretty fancy with your hands, Roddy." He complimented one day.

"Thank you, sir."

"Say, would you like to mess around with the old piano in the back? You did say once that you love pianos. Also it's nearly closing time anyway."

"Sure, sir. Thank you."

Roderich was shaking when he sat on the hard bench. The piano was older with chirping paint and a few scratches. However, to Roderich it looked like it had been constructed by God. He sat at the bench and touched the rusty ivory and ebony keys gently. Slowly he pressed in a few. The notes trembled in the air beautifully. Chords upon chords of heavenly notes filled the back room. Roderich's heart soared.

Giovanni poked his head into that back room, his jaw was slack. "Holy crapola…"

Roderich was promoted on the spot. Instead of taking inventory and manning the cash register, the Austrian was set on the floor playing a shiny blue grand piano. Needless to say the sore got a lot more customers. Giovanni helped his employee make a record.

With the money Roderich gained from playing the piano, he planned a special lunch with his girlfriend and best friend. He brought them to the most expensive rooftop restaurant and even bought their clothes so they felt like they would fit in. everyone who knew Roderich knew he was a total miser. So if he was spending so much money, it had to be for a special occasion.

Elizabeta looked absolutely celestial in her silver dress. Her naturally wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders and curled regally at the small of her back. If Roderich didn't' know her, he'd say she was some sort of magical being heat stole his heart on sight.

Gilbert, Roderich's childhood friend and dare-say his brother figure, fidgeted in his swallow tail suit. His snowing hair was combed back away from his forehead and he seemed to hate it. Despite his discomfort, he joked, laughed, and congratulated his friend on his success.

"Soon you'll play for that moody prince of ours. Van Dyk will love your songs and then you'll move into the castle – bringing the awesome me, of course- and grow fat." Gilbert snickered imagining he stuffy man being as round as a melon. "You won't be able to reach the keys with your big belly!"

Roderich rolled his eyes. "Like that would ever happen."

Elizabeta, who had been quietly sipping her wine, sighed. "Roderich, I have to tell you something…"

Gilbert's smile faded. "Liz…"

"Wait a second," Roderich fumbled with the pocket of his white suit. His bright blue eyes glittered in a manner not unlike a certain Dream's. "I have something very important to ask you."

"Roderich, no…"

The musician got down on one knee and offered a black velvet case the size of his palm. "I have been saving up for a long time for a ring that would be suitable for such a beautiful woman. Elizabeta, you stole my heart. I would be lost without you. You are my muse. You are my happiness. Will you marry me?"

The restaurant hushed and all eyes were on the trio. Roderich opened the case. The silver ring had three glittering diamonds, all princess cut, set into a row. Elizabeta lowered her eyes; her full bottom lip was caught between her teeth. Gilbert reached over and patted her shoulder.

"Roderich…" she said finally. The man's faltering smile widened. "No. I can't marry you. You deserve someone better than me. Someone who won't…"

Roderich's fragile heart sank and shattered when he saw the woman reach back and take Gilbert's hand. They exchanged a meaningful glance. "You're cheating on me?" his voice was barely a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Roderich, but," the brunette tried to keep a stiff upper lip. "You didn't satisfy all my needs; you were always working. Gil, on the other hand, was always there. I'm truly sorry, but I cannot marry you." She stood up, bringing the snowy haired man with her, and stalked out of sight.

The restaurant erupted into low murmurs of shock and disapproval. Roderich stood stiffly. He held the ring case tightly in his fist. His eyes stared blankly at the chairs that once held his unfaithful girlfriend and his backstabbing best friend. They had betrayed him. There was nothing good in the world; it was all a lie.

Peter didn't like how the music warped in Wonderland. Roderich was sitting at his grand piano and was playing heavy, horrid notes that sounded like death and sorrow.

"What's wrong, Mister Alice?" the Dream asked tentatively.

"My muse has left me. She betrayed me." He hissed.

"D-don't be sad, Mister Alice! Everything will be okay."

"No, Peter. She was my happiness. Without her, nothing matters." His slender fingers slammed down on the keys.

Peter jumped at the cacophonous, thundering note. The sky opened up and rain fell heavily down on Wonderland.

"S-stop it! Your songs are making people happy. I-isn't that what you wished for?"

Cold blue eyes caught Peter in their gaze. "That happiness stemmed from her. There is nothing good to play about.

Peter frowned, tears beaded his eyes. "Fine. I don't want a Sorry Sally, I want an Animated Alice! Get out!"

Roderich bolted out of bed. It was cold and too big without Elizabeta by his side.

Roderich shocked everyone when his songs turned sour. They were dark and depressing but were so much more popular. The city's suicide rate skyrocketed and the youth always wore black as if morning a death that was soon to come. Roderich's fame reached far and wide and his songs even further.

"Please don't do this anymore, Rod," Gilbert approached his old friend one day. "This isn't you."

Roderich regarded the snowy haired man coolly. "This is the new me. Get used to it, traitor."

Gilbert was about to make a sharp retort when Giovanni ushered the gloomy Austrian away. He had become Roderich's event planner and manager in his fame. Roderich felt as if he was the last person he could trust. "Don't mind him, Roddy," he said. "I'll have security escort him out."

"I don't care."

"Right…okay, this hotel has scheduled a concert for tonight. Are you sure you will be okay doing it today? It's the one year anniversary of when she…"

Roderich sighed. "I am well aware. I will play. It's the only thing I can do right.

They were escorted to the room where lovely blue roses grew. Roderich stopped to stare at the delicate petals and long dangerous thorns.

"Roderich?" Giovanni stopped a few yards away.

"Go on. I want to think."

The older Italian shrugged. "Okay. But remember the concert starts in half an hour." Roderich waved him off.

The gloomy pianist plucked the rose from the bush. It reminded him of his despair. It was such a beautiful thing that hurt him when he held on. Blood ran down his skin where the thorns bit into his palm.

"You…" a hiss caught the pianist's ear.

A disheveled looking man with gravity defying hair stood a few yards away. His cobalt eyes were puffy and red. His clothes were rumpled and his body shook with coiled tension.

"Who are you?" Roderich asked the mad man coldly, miffed that his thoughts were interrupted.

Ignoring the question, the man bared his teeth. "Your 'music' killed my brother. He started listening to your crap, then-then he committed suicide!" fat hot tears rolled down his already stained cheeks. "It's all your fault. It's your fault that Berwald is gone! All YOUR fault!"

Roderich didn't even flinch when the man drew out a scratched up revolver. "I will not take responsibility for what others do."

"Don't even try to pull that shit. He only stared having those thoughts after listening to your songs. He was happy before with Tino, but then…"

The wind dislodged some soft loose petals. Neither of the men moved for along moment. Roderich picked the stem off the rose he held. "If that is all, you can leave now, sir. I have a concert to attend-"

BANG

Roderich's body jerked backwards. His glasses clattered to the cobble stone path. All vision in his left eye was gone. The man with gravity defying hair watched as the brunette musician collapsed like a rag doll. He then screamed when a small child in a green sailor suit slipped onto the path from thin air.

Peter frowned at his failed Alice. "You're not the one…" he lamented.

Roderich's dead eye faded from sky to the original dark blue. The gaping red hole on the other side of his face disturbed the Dream. He plucked the rose from the ground, now splattered in a sad but vibrant red, and placed it over his eye socket. The hot blood running down his face looked like red tears.

"I hope you can be happy where ever you are now."

Needless to say, Roderich couldn't play in the concert. After the hype died down, he was forgotten. The once popular and sought after musician was nothing more than a dim, dusty memory. The failed Second Alice was nothing but a sad, wilting rose.