"Hello," Eliza greeted answering the phone.
"Yes."
"Yes."
"Ummm yes."
"That would be great! Thank you so much!"
"Alrighty bye."
She then hung up.
"You're coming with me to be on the cover of Health."
"I'm sorry what?"
Ever since Eliza started getting fame, she's gotten offers to be on the cover of all kinds of magazines and newspapers. And it wasn't like Char wasn't, she's been on the news ever since she was adopted, but she always made funny faces or joked with the
reporters.
It wasn't like she was ever serious with them.
"You're going to be interviewed with me on the cover of health."
But unlike Sherlock, she actually cared about what they said about her and since SOMEONE decided to spill the beans about her drug use, she might as well redeem herself now.
Even if it was a couple years late.
"Fine. To think two previous drug users are on the cover of a health magazine is a little odd though," she joked.
Eliza frowned.
Several weeks later and Char already broke half the equipment trying to jump with Eliza for the cover.
"Are you sure we should do a jump now?"
"Now that you think about it..."
The cover of them both were truly glamorous.
And Char wasn't used to it.
Neither was Eliza.
They were both not exactly the glamorous type but they made it work.
The cover showed Eliza in a form fitting dress which showed off her abs and skinny frame on the left while it showed Char on the right in a black dress showing off her intense eyes and nice butt.
"Well..."
"Well..."
"Our parents reactions will be interesting..."
"Interesting indeed."
"Ohhhhhh darling you look so beautiful," Mary cooed towards Eliza, "and you look great too Char!"
John agreed.
"Why are you wearing a dress you never wear a dress!"
"Is that a problem," Char asked Sherlock.
"It's not convenient at all!"
"It's a magazine cover photo! Does it have to be?!"
He rolled his eyes, "What if a kidnapper came in and attacked you both? Would you want him to see your...-"
"I would get the gun out of my dress that I CARRY AROUND and shoot him in the toe."
Sherlock rolled his eyes once again and looked at the photo carefully.
He then realized why it bothered him so much.
It wasn't the dress.
It was that his little girl was growing up.
2 years later and Eliza was already in college in one of the top med school programs, while also being the top athletes in her school.
2 years later and Char was at the front doors of a different school.
It was a community high school actually, but that wasn't what she was there for.
She was there for one of the top scholarships in the country.
Each and every year, thousands of 18 year olds try out for a chance to be one of the top student in their division. The divisions ranging from core studies like mathematics and the sciences to the arts and other electives like art, dance, and vocals.
And although Charlotte Lise Holmes had tried many things in her life, it was clear ever since she was younger what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
Be a musician.
She had prepared months for this moment, not talking for months as she composed, as she practiced, and as she read music theory.
And although she wasn't sure she was ready for the task she knew she had to be, so she opened the double doors, carrying her violin, her cello, and her bag, Sherlock following close behind.
"You have practiced this for months," Sherlock said interrupting the silence as they waited, "why are you nervous?"
"I'm afraid I won't be good enough," she said honestly as she opened the theater doors for him.
"You are," he said sincerely as he left.
"Thank you," she muttered as she got in the long line full of her instrumental competitors.
Somehow, since she got here last, she ended up being last and with great time came great patience.
She started pacing as the line got closer and closer, until finally it was her turn.
The final participant for the final division.
As she walked in, she saw the full house filled with famous geniuses that she recognized and their was no doubt she was recognized too.
Them and their family members.
Trying not to shake out of pure terror she whispered, "control, control, control-"
"I'm sorry what was that?"
"Hello," she greeted while holding her violin. She then noticed the orchestra behind her and greeted them as well.
"Did you know that you are the only one out of all of your competitors that required an orchestra?"
She looked in the crowd for Sherlock who mouthed, "don't lie."
"Yes actually," she replied honestly, "I can tell by the way seats are situated that you rushed to get ready only leading to the logical conclusion that not many people required an orchestra. Getting that deduction well...," she paused not wanting to
run on.
"Tell us more," the judge said.
"I got it from the fact that the violinist in the back," she turned pointing her now towards him, "yes hello," she greeted, "has his music upside down."
He then fixed it.
"Clever," the judge said.
"Thank you."
"Now what will you be playing," he looked down on the papers in front of him, "Charlotte?"
"First will be Winter from Four Seasons then Moonlight Sonata on the piano, then last will be cello suite no. 1 in G."
"Do you learn instruments quickly Ms. Holmes?"
"Just let me listen to a song once or twice and I can play it."
"Good," the judge smirked, "you may begin."
"Thank you sir."
Closing her eyes she started off quiet with quick swift movements, getting ready for the buildup.
The buildup soon came and she played each note with accuracy and dedication. Switching the bow quickly from string to string she hit not a single scratched note, for each one was as clear as the last.
She paced around as she normally did while playing and soon found herself on her favorite part: the middle.
Closing her eyes tighter she played the notes smoothly and elegantly as the song slowed to a lullaby.
The buildup, however soon returned and she also returned to doing quick notes and made sure to make every solo count.
She finally made it to the end making the last note just one beat longer than the original piece and stopped.
Silence was soon in the room for a good long two seconds.
"WOOOOO YEAH GO CHAR CHAR," Eliza yelled.
"YEAH WOOOOOOO," an unfamiliar voice continued clapping.
Soon the whole theater clapped while the judges wrote things down.
"Next will be the cello please," another judge asked politely.
"Of course."
Ever since she was younger she knew the famous cello solo, and by the time she was 10, she memorized the whole piece.
Closing her eyes once again she imagined she was in her home, playing as a young child.
"Go on," a stern but comforting voice said in her mind.
And then she played.
She soon finished and finished Moonlight Sonata, reflecting how the three parts represented her life.
The first part representing her past.
The second part representing her present and being adopted.
And the last part representing her fast paced and high paced future.
After a couple minutes of claps she passed the judge her papers and her orchestrations.
"Are you sure you can pull this off," the main judge asked.
"Yes."
"Well I guess you'll have to prove it then, you're one of our finalists."
She covered her mouth as an interruption of high pitched giggles erupted from her mouth. Tears soon went down.
"Thank you thank you so much," she cried.
"You'll be going against Gregory Miles," the judge explained, "thank you for coming."
"Thank you," was all she could say.
"You are very welcome."
When she got down from the stage to greet everyone, she found a single rose in her bag.
From a big fan
Was all that it said on the piece of paper attached to it.
"Ooooooo," Eliza suddenly appeared, wiggling her eyebrows, "someone's got a secret admirer."
"Sounds a little off if you ask me," Sherlock said gruffly while him and John presented her with some flowers of their own.
"Thank you," she said to the two men giggling, "and it's just a rose," she said to them, "it means nothing."
"Well I'm pretty sure that that was your secret admirer screaming your name with me," Eliza thought once again wiggling her eyebrows, "must mean he's more than a BIG fan."
"Oh shut up," she said blushing while grinning at the rose.
As everyone finally left the theater, Sherlock and Char were alone getting Char's stuff.
"I'm," he paused.
"Hm?"
"I'm proud of you," he finally finished his sentence.
She turned her head and looked at her father's face which was looking at the ground.
He never was a man of compliments.
But when he gave one, he meant it.
"Thanks papa," she smiled at him.
