Mirror, Mirror | ✓

•Day 21• Ava

"Av, you don't have to prove anything to me,"Ted urged. "You know I'll love you no matter what, don't you?"

I smiled. This was why I loved him. "I do, Ted. I really do. I'm not proving anything to you. I'm doing this for myself."

I said this with the most reassuring smile I could muster, and walked up to the nearest waiter I could find. "May I please speak to your manager about your job offer for musicians?" I asked.

. . . .

Within twenty minutes I had managed to persuade the manger into letting me play in his restaurant that night, although it was a Tuesday, and in addition, every Friday for two hours. All it took was one violin solo. The funniest thing was that by the end of it, I was much more confident than I'd pretended to be earlier. I loved to play and that was all that mattered.

I ascended the little wooden stage and watched as the lights slowly dimmed and people's faces slowly started turning towards me. When it was time to begin, I took a deep breath and looked into the audience for Ted's proud smile that was bound to give me the encouragement I needed. Taking a deep breath, I began to play.

Skott's paintings were the first things to strike my memory. I remembered that face she always made when she was working. Her brows would be furrowed, she'd be biting down on her lower lip... And her eyes. I could witness all the seasons in those eyes when she painted.

Warm with passion, icy with precision, showering with ideas and bright with enjoyment. I wondered if I looked that way when I played the violin. I wondered if anyone could fall in love with something just as much as Skott had loved her paintbrush. Deep down, I hoped that's what my audience saw when I played.

Next, I started thinking about my little sister Ally. I dreamed of the girl she would become, the adventures in store for her. I thought about whether she'd be more like Mom or Dad. I even thought about how she'd react when she was faced with situations like the ones I was going through. What would her first date be like? What would be her passion? Would she love someone like I loved Ted?

And that made me think of him. The way his eyes shone when I recounted a happy memory, his cautious attitude when I was upset. I loved that he cared, but I was scared that he cared too much.

Eventually, he would come to realize how hard this was for him. He'd realize I'm too complicated for him to handle. The best part was that I was okay with it. After all, he couldn't remain in love with a girl who couldn't love herself.

By the end of my song, I'd gone breathless. The room was quiet for a few seconds, and I was suddenly overcome with nervousness. It was so silent that I felt like I could hear my blood flowing through my veins.

And then it began. The loudest applause I had ever heard. Or at least that's what it felt like. There were hoots and cheers from the audience, and as I descended from the stage, several people held out their hands for me to shake them. I could hear compliments being thrown about all around me and I'd never felt so proud in my entire life.

It wasn't what I'd performed up there that made me happy. It was the fact that I'd gone up there at all.

. . . . .

"I fall in love with a new you every day,"Ted said, and I smiled.

"And I'm not even the one with Dissociative Identity Disorder."

He laughed at that and pulled me closer towards him. It was only half past seven and we'd already finished dinner at the restaurant. Since it was a weekday and we had school the next day, we decided to go out early so that we could get home by nine. Despite having finished our dinner, plus an entire half hour's worth of a violin performance, we still had an hour and a half to spare.