Queen Draqueesha sat on her bed in her dorm, wearing a black dress she didn't want to, for a funeral she didn't want to go to. Her ex-boyfriend, Fred Dwayne Frank, FDF for short, had died the week prior. Instead of mourning for him, she regretted ever dating him. It briefly occurred to her that she might be a bad person, but then she realised that the only person who ever really liked him was her father. Her father was so insufferable that he could only spend time with people who were as bad as, or worse than him. Queen Draqueesha's father was of Asian origin, but he insisted on acting like Draqueesha's mum, who he longed for constantly.
She stood up, straightened out her dress, and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. Her dark skin shone like onyx because of the expensive vanilla scrub she enjoyed using. Her curly and frizzy black mane had been swept up into a semi elegant bun. She looked critically at her hooked nose and square chin, which she had never liked. Looking away, she left the room and walked past everyone in the hallway, ignoring the stares and murmurs. Draqueesha thought it was because of FDF's death, but really everyone was mocking her quietly. And for good reason too, for Draqueesha played the viola. And this was a prestigious music school. Violists did not belong anywhere, let alone music schools. Though the school claimed they needed a violist to fill out the orchestra, they all knew that Draqueesha's dad was the one who paid for her way through the school.
Queen Draqueesha passed the music rooms and teachers quietly, attempting to look sad and subdued for that would have been an appropriate emotional response. She was too busy for nonsense like visiting a grave. Who asked that idiot to get his toast out with a fork anyway? And plus he was eating white bread. If he hadn't done something as stupid, he proably would have died of diabetes. And so Draqueesha walked across the campus, thoroughly irritated. The mist settled around her and made her hair frizz like mad. She reached the parking lot and climbed into her Jaguar, settling comfortably into the seat. It was a long drive after all. Reaching out she flicked the seat warmers on.
She drove to St. Marx Cemetery, hardly glancing at the beautiful Austrian scenery that was beautiful through her highly polished window. She passed the chapel and turned into the road, her car making hardly more than a purr. She stood up and got outside. She thanked the lord that her car was silver, and not black. She would hate for it to be mistaken for a hearse.
There were many processions around, but she was too late for FDF's. A few weeks late, actually. She had been abroad for the past month. In and out, that was her policy. She strode to the correct grave number and gazed at the tombstone. It was highly polished marble; she could see her face reflected in it. Her brown eyes looked back at her coldly. She placed her hand on the top, the white marble contrasting sharply with her coffee toned skin. On the tombstone it said "FDF 1995-2015. For all the ships that never sailed" she smiled a little at that. He was a fangirl till the end. Draqueesha turned around to leave, she was starting to feel sad, and that would just not do.
She walked through the rows of stones, they ranged from tall to short. She passed families clutching each other's hands tightly. She passed tombstones with flowers piled so high she could hardly see the inscriptions. She could see tall memorials, extravagant but abandoned. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the mass graves. One memorial stood there, tall and proud. Mozart's. It was empty today, Monday mornings were inconvenient times to bury the dead bodies after all. It made her feel a little sad to see just one memorial, she thought of all the other people who were buried there as well, never to receive a plaque or an oath. She wondered if that would be her, never to be remembered, never of the greats. Just a mouldy pile of bones nobody cared about. She played the viola for God's sake.
She walked over to the grave, and knelt there.
"Oh spirit of music, grant me with thy knowledge. Bless me, I beg thee!" She wasn't sure why she used 'thee' or 'thy'. It sounded more official somehow. She didn't feel any different though.
"You called?"
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Queen Draqueesha crouched and whirled around, her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. A boy stood in the midst of purple smoke, and a ghostly breeze whipped between them. The smoke drifted away curling around her stilletoed feet and his sneakered one. His words sounded like they came from far off. What Draqueesha registered first, however, was his arrogant smirk and floppy blond hair. He wasn't as attractive as he thought he was, possibly because his teeth almost matched the color of his hair. Still... his intense blue-grey eyes bore into her dark ones.
"God, you gave me a shock! I thought you were Mozart!" she laughed, straightening up.
"But I am" he looked slightly discomfited.
"ahaha. Get outta here. There's no room for your ego and mine" She considered the fact that he might go to her school, he must be a music student, she decided.
"Ego? I didn't realize stating oneself's name was ego"
"Are you on drugs? What is it, meth? There are better ways of coming up with tunes, you know."
"Drugs, lord no! What do I look like, some sort of vagabond?"
"Vagabond? Maybe you aren't from here."
"Of course not, I'm Amadeus, do not speak of me this way!"
"Oh great Amadeus, you died decades ago, ages ago! How do you look like a flesh and blood twenty year old?"
"Am I really dead?"
"No then"
"And of course I'm twenty, how old would I be otherwise?"
"Well you died like at 35..."
"My God this universe is different!"
"What do you mean this universe?" Draqueesha looked at him strangely. Clearly he was in no fit state to be walking around. She wondered what he took in the morning. Evidently it was cereal with a side of crazy juice. She thought back, trying to recall any nearby mental institutions but none came to mind.
"Look, you claim you're Mozart, why don't you come back to school with me? I go to a really good music school. You'll fit right in." She snorted internally; he'd fight right in with the stoner composers.
"WOW" he squealed. Legitimately squealed. "It worked! YES!"
She shook her head and gently led him back to her car. They made their way through the cemetery, Mozart pointing at things and smiling to himself. He pirrouetted and smiled under the emerging sun, his face lit up. Sighting the car, he ran over, and hopped in once the doors were unlocked. Mozart sat in the car and jiggled his foot impatiently while she started the engine.
"So tell me, is my music popular here?" He questioned.
"In... In certain circles"
"How has music evolved, is instrumental popular?"
"Um"
"Are the voices beautiful?"
"Um"
"Is there any music which really makes you think? Can you show me?"
"You know what? Why don't you tell me about 'your universe'?"
"Well... It's erm, quite large. We have one sun"
"Same here. But I don't care about the solar system! Tell me about the people!" Queen Draqueesha wondered if she was crazy, believing in this man's delusions. But something about it just seemed right. And he really did exude a certain air of maturity and intelligence. And even if he was wrong, which was likely, who'd to say she wouldn't get a cool story out of it. Alternate universes were cool. She wondered if she had an evil twin or something like that. Or maybe she'd have a twin nicer than her.
"There are 7 countries"
"You mean continents?"
"Nope, countries." He nodded at her wisely. "And mine is beautiful.... The sky is clear and bright, the water is clean and our planet is rich with resources. It.... it wasn't always so. This scientist, Elizabeth Brown I think, anyways she created this virus. It reduced the fertility of the human population by 50%. Can you imagine that? All those people wanting to have kids and them BAM they can't? Good riddance if you ask me. Anyways, it worked. I lived through it all, it was magical. Our planet was dying, suffering and then it healed. I was one of the last before it happened and as a child I remember everything getting better. That was cool."
"That's actually a good idea."
"Well it worked for us. Well, actually the economy took a plunge. Companies went bankrupt and stock markets crashed. But when the future generations can't farm the land or drink the water will you tell them that it was good for the economy?"
Draqueesha shook her head. No wonder people went on drugs to write songs. They got deep. They sat in silence for a few minutes after that, Mozart pondered his daring escape.
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Mozart whipped his head back and forth, surveying the crowd. The sword felt leaden in his hands. He tried to raise it, summon the legendary waves of crackling energy that would wipe all the guards out but he couldn't. He suddenly felt... guilt, and it was foreign, strange and terrifying. He couldn't hurt anyone, not anymore. It was all so strange, and the only coherent thought Mozart could find in his muddled mind was run. So he gathered the residual energy in the sword and wound it up, further and further, like a spring being pressed tight, and then he released, shooting straight up, arcing through the air like a shooting star. He balled up as he passed through the skylight, glass falling in sheets around him. He hoped no one was hurt, then shook his head, what was this? A conscience? As the pavement raced towards him, Mozart shook the thought out of his mind. He needed to escape, and there was nowhere in this universe where he could escape the wrath of his government. So he had to leave.