Chapter 2 Gabriella: Perfection Hurts

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This had to be right, I thought to myself as I positioned myself behind the piano with my instructor's eyes glaring at me. I tried to remember that I practiced the piece at least five times yesterday so by now it should be perfect. As I began to play, I felt myself beginning to get lost in the music, which was my favorite feeling in the world. It was the feeling where it didn't matter who I was playing for or how big the audience was. If I could feel the keys, I knew that I was okay.

When I finished, I finally turned to look at Mrs. Hendrickson and saw her usual disapproving expression. I frowned. "You don't like it."

"You played the piece perfectly," she said, moving to sit at the edge of her chair.

"So, then what did I do wrong?"

She was silent for a moment for speaking again. "It felt too safe. Gabriella, any pianist can take a safe piece and play the notes perfectly. But it's the risk-takers that will take a piece and make it something to remember."

Finally understanding what she meant, I nodded. "You think I'm playing it too safe."

"You need to find a piece that truly challenges you and make it your own," she said. "Those are the pianists that make their work timeless."

As we moved on with the lesson, I couldn't get those words out my head. Of course, I played it safe. Pieces like what I played were what my parents expected me to play. Classic but slightly challenging. They wanted to see their daughter selling out arenas one day to prove that they did their job as parents perfectly.

After the lesson was over, I walked out of the building and saw my new bodyguard parked in the same spot he was when he brought me, waiting for me to get in. I tried to walk to the car with as much confidence as possible because I didn't need him or anyone else to think I was miserable or insecure. Even if that was how I usually felt whenever I left my lessons.

By the time I got home, I knew the only way to silence the thoughts in my mind was some improv on the piano. When I walked in and saw my mom dressed up in a sparkly black gown, I knew that wasn't about to happen.

"Hi Mom," I greeted, trying to sound cheerful so she wouldn't notice anything was wrong.

As usual, I could tell it worked when she kissed my forehead. "Good lesson?"

"Yeah I just have some stuff to go work on."

She frowned. "Oh no honey, did you forget that tonight is the charity gala? Your dad needs you and your sister there with us."

"Do I really have to go?" I groaned. "You guys can't just take Alexis?"

"It'll be fun now go get ready," she urged, ignoring the dismay in my voice. "Your dress is on your bed."

I hated these galas with a passion. Most girls enjoyed getting dressed up and wearing fancy dresses but I would've rather spent the night learning a new piece. Plus, my dad always loved to have me put on impromptu performances like I was some kind of show pony.

After I got dressed, I stared in the mirror at the girl in front of me. The girl had on an off-the-shoulders dark blue dress that came down just below the knees with her hair pinned to the side. Her face was made up but not too much because she was still a child in everyone's eyes. Dressing up like this was second nature to me at this point. My dad always had fancy events to attend and it was rarely ever as fun as he and my mom tried to make it sound.

"You look pretty," Alexis beamed as I came down the stairs. Her puffy, pink dress flowed around her and I could tell she enjoyed every second of wearing it. She had her tomboy moments but unlike me, she lived for dressing up.

I smiled at her. "Thanks, you look great too. Like a princess."

"Alright, we're going to take separate cars just in case it goes late and you guys are ready to go before we are," Dad declared. "Aiden will drive you two while your mom and I go with our bodyguard."

That was music to my ears. The last thing I wanted was to listen to my mom prepare my dad for whatever speech he was bound to make at this gala. With everyone agreeing with my dad's decision, we all went and got in our respective cars. As I got in, I noticed Aiden looking around us, as if he was looking for something out of the usual but that was probably just a bodyguard thing.

As he drove, he kept his eyes focused on the road. Only looking back at us whenever Alexis had a question for him, which seemed to be constantly.

"Where's your house?" she asked.

"Southwest Los Angeles," he patiently answered like he had done the first few questions.

"What does it look like?"

"Alexis enough," I cut in. "Aiden already passed the background check with Mom and Dad, you don't need to conduct your own."

He seemed caught off guard by this statement. "Background check?"

I nodded. "Yeah my parents do one on everyone that comes to work for us. I'm sure they did one on you too."

He looked like he was thinking about something but tried to shake it off and shift his focus back to driving. I wondered if he was bothered by the fact that they did one and possibly know every little secret he was keeping. That would freak me out even if I didn't have any real secrets. Looking at Aiden, I couldn't help but wonder what he may have been keeping to himself that he didn't want anyone to know about.

Once we pulled up to the gala, Aiden got out and opened the door for us. He helped Alexis down out of the truck then held out his hand for me. I tried to ignore the butterflies in my stomach when our hands touched. It wasn't like I had never touched a guy's hand before. Just never anyone who was as good looking as he was, especially in the all-black suit he was wearing. I never talked to our bodyguards too much but him being younger than the rest made him more interesting to me.

As Alexis ran to catch up with our parents, I turned to Aiden. "I'm sorry in advance, by the way."

"For what?" he asked in confusion.

"This is probably going to be the most boring night of your life," I said before walking inside to meet up with my family.

Everyone wanted to take pictures of us since we were the golden family: a brilliant tech guy whose company just made a multimillion-dollar deal, his gorgeous wife who worked for a nonprofit, their adopted daughter who was shaping to become an elite concert pianist, and their young, athletic biological daughter who was a star at any sport she played. Of course we were perfect to the outside world. No one could ever guess that the pressure to be perfect all the time was secretly weighing down on us like a boulder. How could they? People see what they wanted to see.

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