Darling (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

8: an offer, a song, a train out of control

A/N: Sorry about the delay between chapters. I'm back from vacation! Thank you for reading, and especially if you leave a vote/comment.  Those things motivate me so much!  I appreciate it!  

There’s only so much to do here, and cleaning the house and wandering the beach can only keep me occupied for so many hours of the day.  Rachel does what she can to help—I sit in her studio with her for a few hours a day.  Sometimes we talk—catching up on things we haven’t had time to talk about in the last ten years.  Sometimes we’re quiet, simply enjoying being in the same space for once.  Still, often later in the evening after dinner, I start to feel the anxiety set in.  I don’t want to be a burden to my sister, and I know her and Sam probably want some alone time.  So I usually go for a long walk, trying to calm my nerves as well as give them some time alone in their own home.

 Sam must have noticed my anxiety, the result of thinking too much and sleeping too little. 

Halfway through dinner (I made grilled veggies and lemon tilapia), he suggests that I could come with him to work.

“As a student?” I raise my eyebrow, smiling.  Sam laughs and picks up his beer, shaking his head.

“No.  I think you’re a bit more…experienced than that.” He laughs.  “You can help out.  The students would be thrilled to have you there—a real musician.  A ridiculously successful one as well.  You can sit in the studio with us or work with me during one on ones.” Sam’s eyes went wide, as if suddenly realizing what a good idea he had. 

“I’m trying to lay low. I don’t know if advertising that I’m helping out at Sussex—“

“We can keep it quiet.  I’ll pick specific students that I know will be chill about it, and you can stay in the background.” Sam interjects.  “Besides, what else have you got to do? You can be a mentor of sorts.” He looks excited, shaking his head eagerly.  I chew nervously on my lip, looking down at my phone and flipping it on and off, anxiously.  It is tempting.  More than tempting.  To be around students and musicians, without the pretext of fame and the pressure of the business…it sounds wonderful.

“It might be good for you, Bee.” Rachel says gently.  I lock eyes with her for a moment, trusting my sister’s opinion.

“Okay. You’re right...” I nod.

“You can come with me tomorrow.  I’ve got a short day, so it will be a good time to come.” Sam grins, and claps his hands together triumphantly.  I grin, despite myself, feeling surprisingly excited for the first time in awhile.  I haven’t thought about music since I’ve been back.  I haven’t thought about singing or playing or anything really.  I’ve been so overwhelmed with what happened, that that instinct, that urge, has been quieted.  The thought of being surrounded by music and people creating…it makes me feel strangely hopeful.

“Thanks Sam, that sounds great.” I take a deep breath, and then try to ignore the flashing of my phone, alerting me to more texts, more messages, more emails.

 ****

Sam’s office is a good sized room—it has to be, mostly because there’s so much in it.  There’s a desk, a few bookshelves, an upright piano, and enough room to maneuver larger instruments in and out of the space.  Most of his students are vocal musicians, though on the way over he told me he has a few really talented guitar players and a fantastic celloist. He holds his one on one lessons in his office, along with any tryouts or rehearsals.  He teaches larger theory classes in the lecture hall in the center of the arts building. 

“I’ve got a private lesson later this morning, and a choral ensemble at noon.  In about half an hour I have my masters class, which I think you’ll really like.  Some of these kids are so gifted and they don’t even know it.  Raw talent.  We’re going into the studio today, just to play around.” Sam is full of energy, and it’s infectious.  It’s only a little past nine, but he is nearly bubbling with excitement.