~~Discovery~~
San Diego, California
"The Great Depression of 1929 was a trying time for America as a country and it didn't take long for the Superpower Country to drag the rest of the world into its decline." Lauryn Williams read aloud.
Seventeen-year-old Aaliyah Victors let out a greatly resigned groan and fell back on her small single bed, her head being cushioned by her small plush pillow. She stared up at the ceiling with narrowed eyes. Staring up at the same wooden beams making up the roof of the three-story townhouse in the middle of Grant Hill. Aaliyah hadn't seen more than her boring San Diego neighborhood in all her life, even though her foster father, Quincy Victors, was the Commissioner of Education in the state of California, but that was a whole other story in itself. Her limits were all she knew, she never had to learn to adjust, but that never meant she was okay with it.
She blew out an annoyed sigh, forcing herself back into a sitting position meeting her private tutor's gaze with a pout. "Come on Lauryn, we've been doing History for the past two and a half hours, can we move on? Or just stop?"
"We still have three more topics to cover and we've barely even gone into depth yet and not to mention the five thousand word essay I want on The Great Depression. You didn't forget, did you?" Lauryn said with a sly smirk on her lips as she sat back on her desk chair, the textbook balanced carefully on her lap.
Aaliyah rolled her eyes and raked a hand through her thick raven hair. "How could I? Not when my tutor incessantly rants about how important it is that I get good grades in my courses even when I turn out with an A grade every single time," She droned in a bored voice. She glanced at Lauryn with a mock tired expression, "You know what that's like, right?"
Lauryn shrugged before shutting the textbook and setting it on her small wooden desk. "Actually, I was a B-average student," She replied in a dry voice, "And I went to public school when I was your age, so I'm going to have to say no." She said with the small tilt of a smile.
Aaliyah raised a dubious brow. "Yet somehow you're responsible for a student belonging on the honor roll." Despite her joking, Aaliyah felt a pang of envy in her chest at that, "Public school does seem interesting though, I've always wanted to go," She mused in a low voice, letting her mind wander away to a life that was not her own; high school.
All Aaliyah had to go on about what high school as a normal teenager was like was the few movies, Lauryn took her to watch when she told her foster parents that they were going on their non-educational "field trip", and maybe a snatch of conversations from kids her age she met briefly, here and there, when they passed her by on the street. She wished she could experience it herself, but she wouldn't dare bring up the idea to her guardians, especially her foster mother, Danica Victors.
Lauryn snorted and let out a dry chuckle, drawing Aaliyah out of her thoughts. She raised her gaze from her palms to see her shaking her head amused. "It's the same boring stuff, but with more moving and more annoying teachers such as myself," she said gesturing to herself, "Trust me, it's not worth the thought."
Aaliyah cocked her head to the side in curiosity unable to help herself. Lauryn was usually on her ass about dwelling on these types of things for too long, especially when there wasn't much she could do to change it, but she couldn't help it. She was curious, she wanted to know more about it, wanted to imagine herself in someone else's experiences. Anything would be better than her own. "Why didn't you become a public school teacher?"
"I didn't want to go to prison for murder." Aaliyah was bewildered, and apparently, it had been all over her face, because Lauryn laughed, "Teaching one kid is fine, teaching a whole class of rude, obnoxious, hormonal teenagers is practically confirming my death sentence."
Aaliyah couldn't help but smile before she sighed looking at her strayed notepad filled with millions of notes from the last two days. The third year of her High School education was almost over and Lauryn was really coming down on studying because the next semester after the summer, was her last, and it was time to think about college. Well, at least think more intensely than she had in the last four years.
Aaliyah had a lot of time on her plate to think about what she was going to do with her life after she graduated, maybe no one else knew, but that hadn't made her any less determined to get the hell out. "But why The Great Depression, why do I want to know all the ways America had once failed economically as a country and like a bitch dragged the rest of the world down with it," She whined petulantly jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.
"Language Aaliyah," Lauryn warned in a low voice glancing up at her, "And to salvage the remains of the Wall Street Stock Market from the crash, America had to call in their loans from the second world war to other countries and set up its custom barriers to stop the imports of foreign goods, thus creating an economic depression across the world."
Aaliyah waved her notebook in her Tutor's face. "Yes and this led to a great increase in unemployment due to the lack of money companies had to pay working employees, which led to cuts in said companies and many families ended up in the streets and there were several other consequences as a result of the depression," Aaliyah threw her hands up in the air exasperatedly, "Forget the set exam dates, I could belt out a five thousand word essay on The Great Depression right now."
Lauryn chuckled and shook her head, "Well don't let me stop you, but I will remind you that I don't think the examiners' board would be too pleased with that." She said with a knowing glare in Aaliyah's direction.
Aliyah sighed and a look of mock contemplation crossed her expression. "Ah, the beloved examiners' board, always finding new ways to destroy the lives of the next generation," She said dryly.
Lauryn opened her mouth to reply when her bedroom door creaked open a little too loudly, for Aaliyah's taste. She hastily reminded herself to steal a bottle of oil from Quincy's storage room.
Just behind the threshold was Danica Victors. Tall, dark, elegant, and never a permed hair out of place from the bun tied at the top of her head. Intimidating to most people and terrifying to others, like Aaliyah. She sat on the board for a lot of charity organizations, she had the image of a saint, which is why the adoption of the newborn of her husband's dead brother seventeen years ago was no surprise. And maybe that gracious smile and warm dark eyes she sported on Forbes magazine fooled the public, but all Aaliyah saw was dark, cold eyes and a distasteful sneer marring her pretty face.
Speaking of people finding new ways to destroy lives... Aaliyah was immediately on her guard and she sat up straight on her bed and met her mother's condescending gaze with a stare of indifference. Aaliyah had learned to acquire over the years she had lived in this house. "Mrs. Victors," She greeted automatically out of habit. The last time she didn't she was starved for the day, but then she was starved when she didn't come down for breakfast in time.
Danica nodded curtly at Lauryn, completely dismissing Aaliyah. A terrible smirk curled at the end of her mouth. "Ms. Williams, I couldn't help, but overhear Aaliyah complaining about her work, is there a problem?" She asked with a cocked brow.
Aaliyah tried not to laugh at Lauryn's strained smile. Lauryn had never liked the Victors, she never made it clear, but Aaliyah noticed how she could never say more than ten words at a time to them without looking like she wanted to throw up. She guessed she knew it was partly because Lauryn had at least some idea of how her foster parents treated Aaliyah, meaning how they starved her and pretty much made a slave out of her. Particularly Danica, who in Aaliyah's opinion was only such a bitter character because she was barren. Quincy, on the other hand rarely showed any interest in Aaliyah's existence anyway. It really did make her wonder why they didn't just post her up in the system when her birth parents died.
Aaliyah never talked about her foster parents to Lauryn, but she knew she had an idea about it. She had tried to broach on the subject plenty of times before, but Aaliyah never let it go far. She didn't want to talk about things she couldn't change. Even if things did change, she didn't see things being any better. And Lauryn couldn't do much about it, because it was the word of an underpaid tutor against the word of two of some of the most influential black conservatives on this side of the West Coast. There was no point dwelling. And this wasn't something she was tempted to dwell on anyway.
"There's no problem ma'am, she's a great student and we were discussing the terms of the essay she will be doing, weren't we Aaliyah?" Lauryn answered shooting Aaliyah a side look.
She nodded tightly, "Of course."
Danica pulled a venomous smile and peered at Aaliyah with cold, dark eyes. "You left the dishes in the sink after Quincy's brunch meeting, Aaliyah, you remember what I told you the last time you left the dishes unwashed."
Aaliyah didn't even flinch, but she knew exactly what Danica meant and there was no room for exceptions. It didn't matter that Lauryn had come in whilst she was clearing up the dining table after Quincy's business colleagues had left and didn't have enough time to wash up and decided she'll do it later. It didn't matter, so what was the point in explanation. She only nodded, trying to suppress a scowl, but she couldn't hide the darkening of her expression and she glanced away.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you," She said, her voice tight with controlled anger.
"You weren't talking," Aaliyah muttered in an equally tight voice, her fists curled in tight fists by her sides and her jaw was set. She was already struggling to maintain her blank expression.
Danica glowered, returning Aaliyah's look of indifference with a scowl. Aaliyah knew that her lack of interest got on Danica's nerves and it was one of the reasons why she kept it up. She rarely had any fun stuck in the four walls of her tiny attic bedroom, getting on Danica's nerves was her only pastime. Except for her music, of course.
No other words were exchanged between them and Lauryn cleared her throat, standing to her feet, signaling her leave. Aaliyah couldn't help but be relieved. It was after five, and she didn't feel like having to kick her out before she started talking again.
Aaliyah watched Lauryn with quiet relief as she collected her books and put them in her bag. She watched her as she slung the bag over her shoulder and glanced at her. She pulled a smile at her. "I should get going now, you remember what we discussed?"
Aaliyah nodded slowly but said nothing as Lauryn turned and glided past Danica, murmuring a simple "good evening" before being on her way.
Once Lauryn was out of earshot, Aaliyah held her breath and her gaze grudgingly slid back to Danica, whose dark eyes were boring into her, shooting daggers. "You can forget about dinner tonight," she snarled viciously at her, "And breakfast tomorrow morning for that fact. How dare you disrespect me the way you did! In front of company as well!"
Aaliyah said nothing, only stared back giving nothing away. What was the point? "What do you have to say for yourself?" Danica cried, her dark eyes blazing and her voice borderline threatening.
Aaliyah let out a tired sigh. "I'm tired, can I go to sleep?" Aaliyah would never apologize to this woman. Not in this lifetime.
Danica's eyes flashed, but she said nothing and straightened up and a cruel smirk tugged on the end of her mouth. "You can go to sleep after you wash those dishes." And with that that she turned on her foot and left the room leaving Aaliyah alone with her thoughts.
As soon as her foster mother was out of sight, she jumped up to her feet and hurried to her bedroom door, and shut the door with a silent click. The creak of the wooden door made her wince once, but after a long pause, she continued. It would probably be the last time Danica would be back up here, before ten, so she was alright.
She sighed a breath of relief and hurried to grab her flimsy rucksack, shoved on her battered sneakers and she snatched her grey beanie from her nightstand before she crouched down to the bottom of her bed and she took her skateboard out from under it. She looked at it admirably and remembered the day she went to buy it two years ago. With money, her step-parents never knew she had, from the job her step-parents never knew she had.
It was a plain black one, and though it wasn't much to look at and it was chipped on the edges and battered like most of the things she owned, it meant a whole lot more to her than what it looked like. It was the first thing she ever bought with her own money, her own little act of freedom and it meant almost everything to her. And it was only the beginning.
The smallest of smiles curled at the corner of her mouth before she stood up and made her way to the window above her nightstand. She forced herself up onto the ledge and pushed the window open like she always did and clambered through it so she was bathed in the sun's late afternoon warmth.
The sky was still blue and clear like it always was in San Diego. Below she was the long wide street that was lined with loads of other extravagant homes like the one she was about to jump out of. Behind the street, Aaliyah could see the highways and the sparkling skyscrapers starting to light up at the first sign of sunset. Aaliyah was not the biggest fan of the city, but she did adore Downtown San Diego at night. Especially when she could be in the middle of it, in the middle of all that life and noise. When she felt connected to it, when she felt alive and not just a ghost half-existing on the outskirts. And just beyond the city skyline was the pacific ocean that was barely visible as a strip of dark blue.
She sucked in a cool breath, letting her smile spread across her lips before she jumped out of the window and landed on the black metal Widow's Walk of her bedroom. She barely made a sound as she did, except for the light creek under her sneakers. She had done this countless times over the last two years, she was practically a pro at it.
Still, despite the experience, the drop below was daunting to her and she had to take a long breath and count to ten before she could swing herself over the railing with her board flat against her shoulder blades held close to her by her rucksack and swing with a slight jerk to the metal ladder that led to the bottom of the house.
It didn't take her long to get to the ground and as soon as she did, she didn't hesitate in dropping her board to the ground and taking off down the street, not sparing a single glance.
The music store doorbell chimed as Aaliyah walked into the store, her skateboard in her hand, alerting Mr. Gonzalez of her presence. "What's up, Mr. G?" She cheered as Mr. Gonzalez came in through the backroom behind his counter.
He threw his hands up in elation. "My dear Aaliyah," said the man with his thick Spanish accent, and a rumbling laugh as he pointed at her, "You're late."
Mateo Gonzalez, a rather plump, eccentric, and lonely middle-aged man. With thick dark waves of hair, with thin strands of grey in his hair, light olive skin with lines around his mouth that gave away his love for life and his years of laughter and smiles. The absence of wrinkles on his forehead expressed his lack of worry and concern for life, showed that he never worried too much, and was a calming presence.
What else is new? Aaliyah thought as she laughed setting her board up against the wall behind the counter and looked at Mr. Gonzalez. "There was some trouble getting here," She explained as she laid her elbows on the counter and glanced at Mr. Gonzalez across it with a wide smile, "So, is there anything you want me to do?"
Mr. Gonzalez cracked a grin. Aaliyah loved Mr. Gonzalez, and she knew he adored her too. He said as much every time she was here, from the day she first walked into his store and asked for a job here. He had told her that he didn't need any employees, he was running low on money as it was without having anyone working for him. But Aaliyah wouldn't take no for an answer, and instead, she sat down at the old Steinway piano in the center of the store and played it, she was nowhere near as good as she was now, but even then she drew a crowd to his shop. She still remembered the song she played for him that day because it was the song he always made her play outside of their rush hours; La Vie En Rose. It was one of the first pieces Lauryn taught her on the piano. She even learned the French as well as the English version. It was one of her favorite pieces because of how close to her heart it was.
That day in Mr. Gonzalez's store, her voice, a soulful mezzo-soprano sound, rang out beautifully, attracting more customers and rolling in more cash than he ever had before that day.
After she had finished and the crowd had dispersed she gave him all the money she earned, determined and desperate. She supposed Mr. Gonzalez saw that in her and felt bad. He was always making a point about her "rough edges." She loved being surrounded by all the instruments, it gave her a sense of ease and belonging. It felt like home. After learning about this place at fifteen years old, she couldn't imagine working anywhere else. "Today has been a slow day, and new stock doesn't come until tomorrow, so there's nothing really you need to do..."
Aaliyah allowed a tiny smile as she glanced at the Steinway, "Besides play?" She asked with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes.
Mr. Gonzalez grinned. "You don't even have to ask," He said, "And as long as you're playing, I do have a request."
"Anything you want, G." Aaliyah said heading towards the grand beauty that always seemed to hold that distinct allure that drew her towards the piano. Aaliyah already knew some of the basics of playing when she first started working here, thanks to Lauryn, but it was Mr. Gonzalez who really helped her hone her skill and expanded her range of pieces from complex classical to upbeat soul pieces and he also helped her with her singing too.
She sat by the black bench and let her finger press delicately against the higher keys. She let out a cool breath as she felt her shoulders loosen and her jaw slacken.
Mr. Gonzalez leaned on his counter and glance at Aaliyah with a lazy smile. "You already know," he said in a low sing-song voice.
Aaliyah grinned back. "La Vie En Rose, it is." She answered and she shook her head as she played the first few keys to the old song, "I should've known." And she laughed before going into the first line of the song.
"Hold me close and hold me fast
The magic spell you cast
This is la vie en rose
When you kiss me heaven sighs
And though I close my eyes
I see la vie en rose."
Aaliyah heard Mr. Gonzalez laugh and she couldn't help, but grin at the low sound and he spoke. "I love it when you sing that song," He said with a grin, "Heaven is sighing."
Aaliyah let out a laugh and her hands flew across the piano keys and harmonious notes spilled from her fingers filling the room with her music as she let the key change slide right into Ben E. King's Stand by me. She felt herself get lost in the change of melody in her music, feeling herself drown in it, being filled with the sensation that thrived in her blood and turned it to fire. She felt consumed by it and it was a feeling that she was familiar with that she loved because losing herself in the way she did was... freeing. And in a world, where she felt as trapped like a caged bird, it was the best feeling in all the world.
She began to sing the chorus to stand by me and being so immersed in the lyrics, she hadn't noticed that a man had come into the store.
Aaliyah knew there was someone there, but she barely paid any mind. She was used to having audiences, big or small come into the store to hear her play. It enthralled her even, knowing that someone was hearing her, watching and admiring the music that oozed from her pores. It was a thrilling chill in her blood when she realized that she was affecting someone's day. It was the tiniest reminder that she actually existed, and wasn't just some ghost that barely teetered on this plane of life.
"Did you want anything?" It was Mr. Gonzalez. He spoke in low tones to the customer who, still hadn't said anything. "Can I help you?" He said slower.
Aaliyah stopped singing now, though she continued playing, now a little curious about the mystery customer. She kept her eyes closed pretending to still be into the music that flowed out of her. "I apologize, I was a little distracted," he said. His voice was smooth and light and had a tone that was almost trusting, "I take it that this is a music store?"
"It's not called Mr. G's tunes for nothing, I assure you," He said with a chuckle and the man laughed with him, "Were you looking for something, an instrument of any kind? We've got it all here."
"I was interested in buying some music scores, preferably for a violin, preferably Bartok's work."
"Ah, you're into the hard stuff, aren't you?" Said Mr. Gonzalez. Aaliyah could hear the easy grin that always played along his lips, when he thought he could discuss the complexities of music with someone, "I hear Bartok's a real challenge."
"Me too, but I'm not into the violin, it's for my sister and as you said, she loves a challenge, and Bartok's relatively new to her." Said the man, as she started to reach the end of the song, "The girl," he said, and Aaliyah tried not to tense when he spoke about her, "Is she your daughter?"
"No, as much as I wish she was, she was adopted years ago," he said, his voice dropping a little in sadness "She doesn't remember her parents."
Aaliyah wished he hadn't told the man that. She knew the chances of him ever seeing her again were slim to none, and that she might never even know what he looked like, but she hated it when someone pitied her for her less than perfect home circumstance. And they'd never even know the other half of it, which was a hundred percent worse than the part everyone else felt bad for.
As she finished the song, she let out a breath and pulled a slow smile and she opened her eyes, feeling less like a compressed spring waiting to explode and more like an undisturbed river bed; at ease. She turned to look at Mr. Gonzalez and his customer. She was going to speak, probably to say something snippy, to defend herself and keep from having to deal with someone's pity, but her words died on her tongue when she caught sight of the man and a frown appeared on her brow when she felt she recognized the man. He was a tall handsome man with cropped very dark hair threaded through with some greys that added more wisdom than unattractiveness, deep olive skin with a wide jawline and dark brown eyes, almost black, fringed by long lashes and thick brows. He was a man that looked as though he smiled easily at life and was content with it.
She felt her discomfort grow when she realized the man hadn't stopped looking at her. She bit her lip and raised a brow. "Um... hello?"
The man smiled politely and then shook his head at himself as though admonishing his own transgression. "I apologize, I haven't introduced myself," He said and he stood up straighter in an almost proud gesture, "My name's Malcolm Waters and I'm a music producer and CEO of—"
"Soul Fusion!" Aaliyah exclaimed in surprise and her stomach bubbled with excitement, "That's like one of the greatest record labels in all of today's music industry, I love all your artists!"
The man, Malcolm, grinned satisfactorily and looked to Mr. Gonzalez, "Well, I guess she's up to speed."
Mr. Gonzalez only made an amused noise. "I knew I recognized you."
Aaliyah blushed and stood up from the piano abruptly as though she felt as though she shouldn't be sitting in the presence of such an influential character in society. Malcolm Waters, the son of a Persian immigrant and American convenience store owner, built the world-renown record label, Soul Fusion with the help of an old friend that had passed away years before from nothing but the skin on their backs and an old run-down studio in Harlem. The world's greatest most powerful and influential record company in this era. They had molded and created names for incredibly famous stars like Madison Strong and Xavier Adams.
"I was very impressed by your performance just now, it was a beautiful soulful rendition. Ben and Edith ought to be looking down at you with pride. They'd be stupid not to," Malcolm said with a pleasant smile, "Have you taken lessons before? On the piano, I mean."
Aaliyah nodded, trying to be professional now, and trying to keep her cheeks from burning even brighter now. "Mr. Gonzalez teaches me sometimes, so does my tutor, but I learned mostly on my own."
"And I take it that you are Mr. Gonzalez?" Malcolm asked glancing at him from across the counter.
Mr. Gonzalez nodded with a proud smile. "Practically taught her all she knows," A look flashed on his face as though he was just remembering something, "Oh right! The scores!" Aaliyah was bewildered as he jumped and pushed into the backroom and disappeared.
Aaliyah watched as a smile grew on Malcolm's expression, as though he just had an idea and she cocked a brow, her interest piqued. "What are you thinking?"
"I just had an idea," Malcolm murmured and then he met Aaliyah's glance with a grin, his dark eyes alight, "I'm having a birthday party for my younger sister's birthday next Saturday and my band had just backed out this morning and so I'm looking for a replacement."
"Yeah," Aaliyah said her eyebrows raised, though she could feel her blood pumping with anticipation, she already had an idea of where this was going.
Malcolm grinned. "So how about you be that replacement?" He proposed making Aaliyah's heart swell twice its size, "You are an amazing pianist and beautiful vocalist and you seem confident and I will love for you to perform on Saturday, you'll break hearts, I promise. And I'll pay you twice as much as I was going to pay the band. So what do you say?"
Despite her instinct to jump up and scream, her cynicism held her back. Things weren't so easy for her. What were the odds that one evening whilst she's playing at Mr. Gonzalez's piano a world-renown record producer just happens to come in and hear her and also needs a performer and wants it to be her. A nobody, a strange girl with ratty sneakers with hardly any training. Doubtful.
"What are you thinking?" Aaliyah lifted her gaze to meet Malcolm's again, wearing a polite smile trying to keep him out of her thoughts. This all seemed way too ridiculous and hard to believe, she didn't want to let him get her hopes up that her future may not be quite so bleak.
She raised her shoulders. "You don't even know my name," She said, "You don't really want me to play at your sister's birthday, do you?"
Malcolm was quiet for a moment, as though studying Aaliyah. She tried not to squirm where she stood, holding his stare evenly. Even if she wasn't sure this was real, she still wanted him to know that she was serious about her music and that she deserved the respect any aspiring artist deserved.
Malcolm shoved his hands into his pockets, tilting his head a little. "Well, what is your name?"
Aaliyah blinked, a little taken off guard. "Huh?"
"What's your name?" He reiterated a smile pulling at his mouth again, "If I'm going to hire you to perform, I should at the very least have your name. It's only professional."
Aaliyah flushed. "It's Aaliyah Victors," She answered scratching the back of her neck, "But that's not what I meant—"
"Look Aaliyah," Malcolm interrupted, his eyes even on hers making her pause all her protesting. She stared with wide eyes, suddenly feeling like a child. She was really standing in front of the Malcolm Waters offering her possibly the chance of a lifetime and she was hesitating to take it. She felt crazy, "If there's one thing I have learned in all my years, is that you should never let an open door close. You may find that regret has a way of following you."
Aaliyah was quiet for a long moment taking in what he said. She never had anything to regret before, she was confined to her room, any chance for opportunity kept from her, and suddenly there was a huge one, served to her on a silver platter and it was like there were two paths before her, one where she took the chance, a very unbelievable chance for true happiness, and another where she played into her skepticism and continued living her nightmare of a home life for at least another year, wondering what if. She couldn't see herself not going insane that way.
Aaliyah smiled, rolling her shoulders back. "I suppose you're right," She said.
Malcolm grinned, flashing his pearly whites and all Aaliyah could see was her future and her name in shining lights. "Am I hearing a yes?" He asked, raising an expectant brow, "Because this is an open door you won't regret."
Aaliyah felt her mouth dry up and her heart pounded in her ears, but she kept a calm undisturbed expression as she stared up at Malcolm. Her thoughts barricaded her at once leaving her almost breathless. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Malcolm said with a mischievous glint in his eyes and smile, "I suppose that if all goes well on Saturday, I would consider offering you a contract to Soul Fusion and get yourself a record deal."
Though she so wanted to, she couldn't stay calm, her eyes widened and nearly bulged out of her eyes and she gasped. "For real?" She burst in surprise and disbelief, "You'd actually give me a record deal?"
"I wouldn't close the door on this opportunity, would I? You're amazing, Aaliyah and you have incredible talent that no one could ever pass up," Malcolm said looking to her with a wide grin that spoke of an open door, Aaliyah had the choice of walking through, she saw all the opportunities in the world he could offer her, what would be available to her and she knew she couldn't give up an opportunity like this, "So, what do you say?" Asked Malcolm with a teasing grin as he flicked out a small white card from his pocket. She knew that on it was what could be the key to her entire future.
Aaliyah pulled a grin.