Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
He thinks that over, looking away as he rubs his lips together.
My god, were those lips really on mine last night?
“Okay,” he says. “Come back here when this class is done and I’ll make sure to keep it open for you.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, about to walk away but then I pause. “Hey…are you okay?”
His face is totally impassive. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
I blink at him, quickly pasting on a stiff smile. “No reason. You just seem a bit off today.”
“I’m fine,” he says, tone a bit sharper now.
Well good for you, I think.
I turn and quickly leave the room before he does, deciding to head to the library for a bit. I haven’t been back since the other night and I’m looking at it with new eyes. Part of me hopes the professor doesn’t show up so I don’t have to pretend to be normal and fine all over again. Part of me hopes he does.
I find a chair in the corner and just spend most of the time flipping through encyclopedias and reading in earnest about everything I come across, much like I did as a child when I needed to destress and hyperfocus on something. The time flies and when I look at my phone, the last music class has been over for a while.
Gathering my stuff I head down into the building, going to the concert hall. As classes are done for the day, a stillness has descended on the school and as I pass through the dim hallways, the statues of famous composers and musicians seem to watch me as I walk past, as do the eyes from various portraits.
True to his word, Valtu left the concert hall door open a crack. I push it the rest of the way and step inside. I’ve never been in here alone before and it’s a completely different experience. It’s lit like there’s a concert in progress, with all the chairs and the balcony above in the dark, with only a single light on stage.
Aimed right at the pipe organ.
“Hello?” I call out softly as I step inside the hall. I glance around at the shadows, expecting to see shapes and eyes staring at me but I really seem to be alone.
I close the door behind me and make my way down the aisle, then up the stairs to the stage.
I look around again anxiously, feeling apprehensive, like this room was lively and breathing before and now that I’m here, it’s holding its breath.
I sit down on the bench, take off my jean jacket and my boots, and I’m about to put on my organ shoes I have in my bag but I stop. There’s no one here. How much better would it feel to play the organ in my bare feet? He did say that I needed to work on my foot position, maybe it’s better achieved at first by playing without shoes.
Besides, I carry antibacterial wipes and hand sanitizer wherever I go. I’ll just clean the pedals before and after.
I fish them out of my bag, wipe it down just in case a less hygienic person did that before, then take my position on the bench, smoothing out my dress. When I asked Valtu if the room was available, I did so with the hopes that maybe he would show up and we could talk…or do something more than talking. But now that he’s not here and I have the place to myself, I’m compelled to really master the piece he gave me for the recital.
I start playing it from memory, not needing a sheet. It’s a song that gets off to a galloping start with only a few quiet slow sections where strings would kick in. I’m excited to hear it with the string students once we start rehearsing with them before the recital.
As I play, it’s much easier with bare feet to master what Valtu was teaching me about my ankles, how I have to turn them to play more from the inside of my feet, but when I finally finish the song, my ankles are sore from the new position.
I reach down to rub them and hear slow applause erupting from the balcony. I gasp, quickly twisting around to see a dark figure on the balcony clapping. I swear I see red eyes too, but I’m thinking that’s just my imagination.
“Who is there?” I call out, my voice shaking slightly.
Oh god, please don’t tell me it’s the demon again. This time patronizing my musical performance.
But then I see the figure stand up and the room grows cold and from his silhouette I can tell it’s Valtu. I would recognize that wild hair and height and those broad shoulders anywhere.
I watch as he walks gracefully up the aisle and disappears, my eyes drawn to the back of the room where the staircase is until he appears.