Here I am at the third chapter already!! I keep telling myself to wait until I get more reviews to post anymore, but I can't help it!

"That's cause you have a big head now that you're actually publishing your fanfiction."

Aaah! Ikuto-kun, how long have you been listening?!?

"*snicker* Long enough."

*sigh.* ANYWAY...Thanks to Adelaide Pitman for keeping the reviews coming and to Laser684 for adding this story to your favorites! Arigato gozaimasu!

Recap:

Utau stopped trying to kiss him to growl at me. "Don't use his name so freely!"

"You just did," I muttered.

"That's because I'm his girlfriend."

"No, you're not," Ikuto said sternly.

Utau pounced on top of Ikuto, knocking him onto the floor. My view was now blocked by the coffee table, but I could still hear the smooching sounds and cries of protest that followed. The spell was broken when I felt myself blushing. Scolding myself for staring, I turned tail and dashed into the audition room.

Catching my breath after my mad dash, I slowly turned around. The audition room was quiet and dark, with only one section of the room clearly lighted. I was afraid to send my voice out into the darkness, perhaps thinking it might get lost and never come back.

"Welcome, North-san," said a voice from the shadows. "I'm Yukari Sanjo." As she said her name, she slid into the piercing light.

"Thank you, Sanjo-san. I'm honored to be here," I said, squinting to block the reflected light from her stark white dress shirt.

"You may set your case here," she said, gesturing to a half-lit table beside her. "Begin whenever you're ready."

Suddenly remembering my Japanese etiquette, I bowed slightly before opening my case. The bow slid easily from its place and the chinrest still felt warm when I set it against my face. Sanjo-san took the shadowed chair behind the table as I stepped into the light, playing each open string. I paused for a moment, tuning the E up a quarter-step. In my head, I heard the beginning line of my audition piece – a little-known sonata by Beethoven. I carefully placed my finger on the A string and lifted my bow. Taking a deep breath, I put on a focused but confident and relaxed expression.

I lowered my bow, and as it flew across the string, my fingers danced back and forth, creating the beautiful melody out of cold, sound-free air. And my violin sang.

About ten seconds into the piece, I realized with horror that what my violin was singing was not Beethoven's sonata, but the piece I had played earlier as a warm-up – Mendelssohn's concerto! I couldn't stop now, or I'd look like a fool. But could I go on with such an elementary, over-performed piece? Striving to keep any emotion from reaching my face, I gritted my teeth. I would have to go on.

I tried to focus all my attention on my playing, but it was nearly impossible. I had played Mendelssohn's concerto so often that I knew it strictly by muscle memory and never thought about it. And now my head was filled most annoyingly with that blue-haired kid.

"You played it flawlessly. I was so impressed that I had to get closer to listen. It looks like I'll have some stiff competition."

Snap out of it! I wanted to yell at myself. Was it really because of Ikuto's smooth words that I had made such a foolish mistake? It didn't matter now. I focused my vision on the place where my bow met the string. I couldn't afford any more mistakes. My future was on the line here. I needed this job, which meant I needed to beat Ikuto Tsukiyomi. Whatever I had thought of him before no longer mattered; now he was my opponent – the enemy.

Since the audition had a five-minute time limit, I needed to stop after the first movement. However, I knew that ending there wouldn't leave a lasting impression. I needed Mendelssohn's fiery last words – the end of the last movement. I visualized the last page of sheet music, and just as my bow slowed, designating the first movement's end, a flick of my wrist sent it sputtering back to life again. My bow was bouncing, flying, barely skimming the strings long enough to leave sound in its wake. My fingers could barely keep up, tapping on the fingerboard like miniature hammers going at sixty miles an hour. My entire body flowed with the music, a wild rapid of song sweeping me away. I felt perspiration drip from my forehead, and my throat became dry as my breath came in and out more often, begging for more moisture. This was it – the last line. I could see it on the page. I could watch the notes dancing up and down the staff, racing each other to the double bar line. At last, my violin sounded the final note, and I lifted my bow with a flourish.

Slowly, my violin returned to rest position under my arm. It was no longer an extension of my body, but rather, a separate entity. I bowed, closing my eyes, and when I opened them I was no longer paddling for dear life in a sea of music. As I stood under the spotlight in the audition room of the Easter building somewhere in Tokyo, the sound of Sanjo-san's lonely applause replaced the rushing waves and resounding melodies in my ears.

"Brava, North-san. With that song choice, I doubted you could impress me. But I have never heard Mendelssohn's concerto played more masterfully."

I smile broke over my face. Quickly, I bowed again. "Thank you very much, Sanjo-san."

"Tell me," she said, still hiding in the darkness, "what motivated you to become so advanced?"

I paused for a moment, stepping a little out of the light. After a moment's reflection, I had my answer. "For a long time, I thought it was to prove something. But now I know that it's because I love the violin. Even if no one ever hears me, I'll keep playing my music for the rest of my life." Instantly, I scolded myself. Waxing poetic was on my list of how not to get a job.

Nervous, but trying not to show it, I watched Sanjo-san's outline take shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was smiling. "Well spoken," Sanjo-san said, crossing her legs. "But I certainly hope you'll keep on playing where others can hear you, even if it's not here."

I nodded and smiled stiffly. Crap! That line was a sure sign that I wasn't getting the part. She was clearly preparing me for disappointment.

"I have heard Ikuto play before," Sanjo-san continued, "and I believe I have made my decision. But for the sake of formalities, Ikuto-kun, please go ahead and play for us."

Wordlessly, Ikuto advanced from the pitch-blackness and brushed past me without even lowering his gaze to make eye contact. Setting his case on the table next to mine, he looked as stoic as a sculpture. I marched up to the table and stood next to him, carefully putting my instrument away. As I latched the case, I pointedly looked up at him, hoping for some kind of acknowledgement, but receiving none.

"North-san, you may sit by me," Sanjo-san said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.

"Thank you," I said and gratefully took the seat, hoping neither of them would notice that my knees had suddenly started to shake. I was ticked at Ikuto, but tried not to show it. What had happened to the friendly, smiling attitude he had had ten minutes ago? Not only was he sneaky like a cat, but he was also as fickle as one. And why had Sanjo-san asked me to stay? Was it just because Ikuto heard my audition, or did she hope I could learn by hearing him play? Was I that inferior to him?

I set my case on the floor beside me and tried to relax as Ikuto Tsukiyomi tuned his violin. But at that moment, waiting for the first notes of his song, I felt like a jumpy little mouse waiting for the cat to strike.

What did you think? I love writing descriptions, so this chapter was really fun for me. However it's really difficult to put into words the feeling of becoming one with the music you're playing. You just have to be a true musician to understand it. You understand me, right, Ikuto-kun?

"I understand that you're annoying."

Ugh. He's hopeless, but I love him. And I promise there will be more interaction with him in the next chapter!!!