Come With Me (Lapidot)

Chapter 7

Nerves had always been an issue. Now more than ever.

Peridot swallowed uneasily, fidgeting, tugging at the sleeve of her blouse subconsciously. That only resulted in a heated glance from her mother and a stern frown that had her straightening her back but wincing away.

She listened to her competitors. To the beautiful violin solos and the astounding singers. They were wondrous and so talented and everything she lacked. What sort of chance did she have out there? In three years, she hadn't won even runner up in this competition. That was borderline pathetic.

Who was she kidding? That was pathetic. And her mother made sure she knew it, too.

Her mother leaned in, never actually looking her way, as the violinist began the final notes to his piece. "This is it. For the love of God, Peridot, don't disappoint me again."

She could only nod, throat so tightly constricted she could barely breath let alone think about actually making sound. It was enough. But her confidence was quickly degenerating as her mother stepped back and she was left, waiting for her name to be called up to the piano.

The final, sharp note of the previous instrument rang in the air, true. She listened to it like it was a death bell, stomach dropping out below her. She listened to the quiet, respectful clapping. She listened as the microphone was brought back out by Mayor Dewey.

She listened as her name was called out, as if she stood on death row awaiting the inevitability of her demise. Her palms felt moist, mouth like a desert, feet like lead. But she stepped out onto that stage.

The crowd hushed as she nervously strode forth, brimming with a sort of forced pride that had her knees buckling and her breath hesitant but her back stiff and her eyes forward. This was it. This was her time to shine. And d*mm*t she was going to do just that!

She turned to the crowd, her pale emerald gown swishing about her as she briefly bowed. She felt hot and itchy, the material foreign and strange. She felt exposed. But as long as her eyes barely hovered above those heads, seeing but not seeing the people in their seats, she was fine.

She turned her back on the crowd. Her elevated platform slippers tapped gently on the wooden stage. And then she was seated before the one thing that both comforted and terrorized her.

Those keys beckoned her hands forth. Those music sheets screamed encouragement. Her breath evened out, then stilled altogether. Her fingers rested on the first keys. The theatre hushed, silence save the static in the air that buzzed in your ears.

Then, she began to play.

Softly, purposefully. Fingers working magic along the smooth, polished keys and sound floating from within the instrument. She didn't need the music sheet for this part. She knew it by heart, and her eyes drifted shut as she blocked out the world.

It was just her, and it was just this, and she was okay. She was okay.

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Her mother wouldn't look at her when she returned back stage. She didn't blame the woman, not really. So she just left her there to boil over her 'inadequate' performance. It was safer that way then a head on approach.

Peridot needed the air anyway. Her cheeks and neck felt heat stricken and her palms were so wet you'd think she'd stuck them in water. It didn't help that she kept wiping them on the dress, only to freak out and smooth out the material, as if she had just ruined it.

A light breeze was blowing as she pushed through the door, cold enough to make her shiver but gentle enough to coax her out. It was nice, and with the setting sun looming in the background, it almost delivered some sort of alluring charm. Like a movie, or romance book. Cliché.

Her arms snaked around her middle subconsciously, feet taking her away from the door. It made a gentle 'click' sound as it reclosed. It left her out here alone and to her thoughts.

Which, in so many ways, was such a bad thing.

Peridot chewed on the inside of her cheek, scrunching up her nose as she contemplated her own performance. Definitely better than last year. But still not enough to win top place. She had, once again, overestimated the timing for that particularly bumpy section and messed up. It had been the only flaw, though. Of that she was certain.

But almost perfect wasn't good enough. Almost perfect didn't get her achievements. Almost perfect didn't get her mother's approval.

Was that even what she was going for any longer, though?

"I thought you were pretty good," a voice spoke out softly from the side, startling Peridot enough that she jumped and turned on her heel. It was a good thing the dress stopped midway up her calf; if it had been body-length, she surely would've made herself to be a fool.

She knew that voice, despite her reaction. She knew that face when her eyes landed on it. That was obvious by the way her brows dropped and her eyes narrowed.

"What are you doing here?"

The blue-haired girl smirked, but it was soft and offering more than normal. Almost as if she was forfeiting their little game for now. And maybe she was. Her eyes didn't scream tease and she didn't seem to be lying about her statement.

"You were good. Even at the fast part. I don't know the piece, but you almost nailed it."

Peridot scoffed, jaw clenching as she turned back to face the door. It crossed her mind that she could walk away and avoid any further conversation. It also crossed her mind that she could throw in a few rude, rather demeaning phrases as well.

But something kept her rooted to her spot, and she simply shrugged. "Didn't answer my question."

"No, I didn't." It still caught the younger girl off guard, this act of side-skirting straightforwardness. Like she wanted to talk to Peridot, but she also didn't really know how.

Or maybe she was just naturally an a**. Either was plausible at this point.

Peridot hugged her stomach tighter, almost leaning in on herself as a bitter breeze snuck in and wrapped around her shoulders, blowing her hair into her face. She shook her head, as if it would somehow help.

"Thank you," she murmured dully, her feet already moving forward. She didn't want to be here any longer, yet wanted to stay for the rest of the evening. Something drew her in but forced her out all at once in the presence of this girl. It was maddening.

Lapis' jaw tightened as she watched the girl before her trying to leave. She didn't want her to do that.

The way her dress got caught up in the wind, billowing out around her like some sort of magnificent cape, was beautiful. The way her hair was ruffled and slightly unkept was adorable. She wanted to reach out and brush the loose strands away from her face, ever gently.

Her hands clenched at the very idea and she crossed her arms, leaning back against the alleyway wall. Sure it was dingy and grimy and probably filthy. Sure, she didn't trust that she wouldn't catch some untreatable disease just from the very sight of it. But she didn't trust herself so close to Peridot.

So... a skin eating parasitic leech was better... right?

"You're welcome."

She thought she saw Peridot's shoulders tense, just the smallest bit. She thought she saw a creeping half-smile half-grimace trying to situate itself on Peridot's face. But she knew for a fact Peridot glanced at her before reaching out for the door handle, letting herself slip back into the theatre.

And Lapis knew for a fact her nails were digging into the flesh of her palms the whole time.