I Won't Forget Those Blue Eyes

Chapter 7

| | |  Reflecting | | | 

"Difficult conversations do not just involve feelings, they are at their very core about feelings."

 - Douglas Stone

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| | | Y/n | | |

I trudge back to the shop, hugging myself and looking down as I walk. I had a small breakdown in that alleyway but I mostly pulled myself together, I didn't like how the day was going and it wasn't even noon yet. I straighten my posture and put my hands in my pockets before walking into the shop. Business dwindled down, there were a few regulars scattered and reading the papers. I crept towards the counter where my mom was quietly slapping a man's forearm. I cleared my throat,

"Hi mother, good afternoon Mr. Hannson." I slightly bowed. My violin teacher, his soft white hair sparkled as his vibrant blue eyes met mine. 

"Y/n hello, thought I'd pay a visit before heading to France." I looked at him confused,

"Since when did you go to France? That's quite a trip, and what about lessons this week?" His eyes darkened as they locked onto mine, yet his laugh sounded very upbeat and peppy. What on earth, why is he mad, hold on. He cocked his head to the side, eyes still not breaking away from mine.

"Hmm, if I recall we discussed this at our last lesson, which was two days ago. I'm meeting my nephew and we have scheduled make-up lessons throughout the week I come back. This works out since we'll be starting the new repertoire for the Fall Festival in Corona." My face reddened from embarrassment. I coughed out an apology and about how I must have forgotten. Which was half true,

"I wish you the best on your travels." I gave a small bow and sneaked behind my mother, snatching an apron and pulling my hair back. My mom gave a little smile and softened her voice,

"Y/n hasn't been practicing as much lately, I'm sorry if she's being troublesome." Mr. Hannson returned the soft tone and gently spoke,

"No, it'll be okay. I've been giving her plenty of work to do alongside the new repertoire for the Fall Festival performances. She'll have no choice but to practice if she wants to get by me." I let out an irritated sigh as I started wiping the counters and organizing the dishware. My mom chimed in,

"Oh, but did you see this week's paper highlights..." I tuned out their laughter and playful conversations and started washing the dishes. It's not easy to practice anymore. I don't have motivation. I'm playing on a rented violin that isn't even my own. The music is all so bright and technical that I can't even enjoy it or actually connect with it. But even if I played my favorite piece, which I tried, it isn't what it was like before. I don't have anything to pour into my playing, I have nothing anymore. It's just tiring, I don't try, don't want to, and even if I do it won't amount to anything. Tch. So, Varian. I didn't really reflect on everything that happened today, everything happened so fast that I didn't even get some time to breathe or think... Last night was fine, I don't think I did anything weird. This morning though, what the hell Y/n?!?! Trying to drown yourself? I felt genuinely concerned with what I had done, it felt like a blur to be honest. I won't let it happen again, I won't be going to that place anymore. It doesn't feel as hidden, I'll just find someplace else that's quiet. I sighed and placed the last mug upside down on a towel to dry. I still had more to think about but it would have to come later.

"Goodbye Claude, see you after your trip. Bring me back something sweet~" Mr. Hannson dramatically swung his overcoat over his shoulder and let his hair swoosh and he looked back.