You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, deciding on what type of makeup you should wear. You were mainly between plain light and a bit more complicated look. You then looked up at the clock, 6:00pm, you only had another hour to get ready for the concert, or whatever it was called when musicians played classical music.
You decided on a light, simple look. You could never go wrong with the classic beauty look. Many young ladies your age wore it heavy, and if you did wear makeup, it was almost always light. You also thought not many people would like it. They might see you trying to draw attention, and you already knew you were going to be sticking out like a sore thumb.
You weren't rich, you didn't think you were the best looking, and your family's name wasn't known for anything spectacolor. You also didn't know how to act around higher class people. You had plans on just sticking to Viola the whole night. She would make sure you didn't embarrass yourself, or at least not too much.
You applied light foundation, some mascare, and filled in your eyebrows, and a light red lipstick; you weren't a master at makeup, but you thought it made you a little better looking. You brushed your hair and parted it to the side. It was your favorite hairstyle when you wanted to look a little more presentable or beautiful.
You went into your room and rummaged through your closet. You found a blue, 50's looking dress, it looked like something her own grandmother, but it was classy; it was the most appropriate item of clothing for the event. You slid off your red dress and put on the blue one. You had a bit of trouble zipping it but eventually got it. You looked in the mirror. You felt oddly different, yet to you, you looked better. You could only hope you looked presentable enough.
It was now almost 7pm, and Viola, and her father. You waited quietly on the couch. You had called your mother earlier to tell her, she seemed to be glad you were going out more.
You heard a knock on the door and opened the door. You smiled and hugged Viola.
"Are you ready?" Viola asked, as you stepped outside and locked the door.
"Yes. Viola, how long does this, well, concert last?" You asked, thinking in the back of your mind at the most it might last 2 hours at most.
"It stops at 12 am, so about 4 hours." She said, as if it was a short concert.
Your eyes became a bit bigger and you smiled in shock. You didn't even think that any entertainment could last for four hours or more. You supposed this was classical music though, so that must be the normal.
After that you got into the car with her. Her own father, Alfred, was also there. He was a stoic man, tall, quiet, intelligent. The complete opposite of Viola, you supposed. You had never met Viola's mother though. But you expected that was because Alfred wanted to keep it quiet, it was a scandal, as if a reality TV show, you supposed. You loved being around them though, even if the two of you didn't have any similar background.
The drive was quiet, other than you and Viola chatting and gossiping a bit in the back sets. You two would often talk of school, what was going on, and men. Viola had no trouble going up to a man and straight out say she found him attractive, you, on the other hand were a bit more shy, and by shy you meant you'd never been in a romantic relationship.
Viola had tried to find you a good man, even though you loved her kindness, you turned down all her advances of men. It wasn't that you didn't want a relationship, per say, you just didn't think any man would want someone like you. You were shy, and not the most pretty, and were more traditional. Qualities that most men disliked.
You arrived in thirty minutes or so, and Alfred let both of you out. The sun was setting in the background and it was a little bit more comfortable in terms of the weather. It was still warm though and humidity was still a pain. Alfred walked into the large, made of glass building. It was cold inside, a vast difference to outside. The place had some people in it, but less than you expected, which you were thankful for.
You still felt out of place, but not as much. You could tell you were a little underdressed, but not terribly like how you had expected. Everyone seemed to be in little groups chatting and talking between themselves. Viola and her father were talking about the conductor from what you could tell. You wanted to join in the conversation, but you didn't even know who was performing anyway. You heard the names 'Mozart' and 'Wolfgang,' two odd names that you had never heard of before. Alfred always spoke with a thick German accent so maybe you were just hearing things wrong.
Suddenly a man came running down the hall shouting very loudly in a language you didn't understand. He rushed through the crowd yelling "Sorry!" In a very thick accent, so thick you could barely understand it. As he was running he bumped into you and looked you in the eyes for a brief second. He seemed to smile at you on purpose, but you knew that was a ridiculous idea.
"Who was that?" You asked, reaching your neck out to see him disappear into a different room.
"That was Mozart." Alfred said.
Viola and Alfred kept talking, but you were intrigued by the babbling, running man. You didn't know why either, you were just intrigued by him.
Shortly after the strange encounter, you, Viola, and Alfred were allowed inside the theatre. It was large, somewhat dark, and cold. You, Viola, and Alfred were stead in one of the top boxes. It had a gold color around the edges, craved with little designs and emblems. As you sat down you could see everything, from the people in the crowd, and the instruments, sitting stagnant.
You and Viola chatted quietly, waiting for the music to start. It was a long time, or at least it felt like it to you. You didn't have much patience, especially for things you weren't very interested in anyway.
After waiting and waiting you saw a man, with blond hair, dressed to the ten's came out. He resembled the man who bumped into you in the hallway.
After a while, the music finally began.
