A/N: Massive thank you to MilieBoo for the gorgeous French translations! She's totally stepped up and saved me (and Dari's character as a whole). Thank you thank you THANK YOU for your amazing work love! This one's for you.
--xE
Darien Grace
"Fuck." Sweat slicked my heated skin, his name still lingering on the tip of my tongue. I could still feel his the ghost of his touch feather light against my skin, the sharp scent of his cologne filling my senses. Music filtered up to my ears from where my beats now rested against my neck. My sonata from the Gala came to a close, and my new composition filled the silence. They were on a loop. I closed the lid to my Mac with a sharp smack and tossed it to the other side of the bed. Pushing my damp hair off my forehead, I collapsed back down against the mound of pillows.
What the fuck was that? I raged, channeling the majority of my frustration toward the cunt between my thighs. She'd been more or less dormant for months and, at the moment, I was content to keep her that way. My little wake-up call was the only evidence I needed to know that having Stella awake would only complicate things.
I needed a distraction.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I found the contact card in my phone and pressed call. The other line picked up after the second ring.
"Thank you for calling Daniel's, this is Teresa speaking. Would you like to make a reservation?" I didn't recognize the young, female voice on the other end of the line. For some reason the unfamiliar host gave me courage.
"I was actually hoping to speak to Monsieur Bouland," I said, clenching and unclenching my fist, knotting it in my duvet in an attempt to keep my anxiety out of my voice.
"I'm sorry, Monsieur Bouland is unavailable at the moment. May I ask who's calling?"
"Ren Grace."
"And what is this about?" Teresa asked.
"I am—I was one of the pianists, but I had to take... an extended leave of absence. If I could just speak to Monsieur Bouland—"
"One moment please," she said, clicking the line over to hold. The soft strains of Brahms Rhapsody drifted over the line and my fingers knotted further into the duvet.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding when the line clicked once more, "This is Sebastien."
Shit.
"Hum, salut Seb," (Uhm, hey Seb,) I said, my voice wavering. This was not going the way I had hoped. "Je souhaiterais parler à Monsieur Bouland." (I was hoping to speak to Monsieur Bouland.)
"C'est bien ce qu'on m'a dit. Malheureusement, Monsieur Bouland n'est pas ici en ce moment, et il y a longtemps que tous les postes ont été comblés. Je peux ajouter ton nom à la liste d'attente si tu veux." (So I've been told. Unfortunately, Monsieur Bouland is not in at the moment, and all of the shifts have been long filled. I can add your name to the waiting list if you'd like.) I could actually hear his self-satisfied smirk as it contorted his already nasally voice.
"C'est lundi. Je sais qu'il est là. Passe-moi simplement son bureau," (It's Monday. I know he's there. Just put me through to his office,) I said, my previous frustration returning the longer I was forced to deal with my old manager.
"Il y a eu plusieurs changements depuis que tu nous as quittés, mademoiselle Grace. Maintenant, s'il n'y a rien d'autre, je dois vraiment y aller." (A lot has changed since you were last with us, Miss Grace. Now if there's nothing else, I really must be going.) He didn't give me a chance to reply before the line went dead.
"Parfait," (Perfect,) I muttered, dropping my phone onto the bed beside me. I glared up at the blades of my fan, rotating lazily around above my head before checking the time on my watch. If I could make it to Daniel's within the hour, I at least had a chance of catching Monsieur Bouland before he left for the evening. Twenty minutes later, I thundered down the stairs, pulling my black, woolen peacoat on over the sheer white button-up I'd tucked into high-waisted, black, Leith Ponte pants. My red leather 1.State booties finished the ensemble along with the thin, silk bow scarf tied around my neck beneath my collar.
"Where are you going?" John called, just as I made it to the front door.
"Off to see a man about a horse," I joked, scooping my house key up off the hook by the door.
"Darien," Caleb chided, strolling into the room, a glass of cognac in hand.
"Daniel's," I amended. "Seb was being an ass over the phone."
"Give him hell and bring back the Cerise," Caleb said, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead. I laughed, remembering how fond he was of the thyme scented Morello cherry pie topped with timiz chantilly.
"I'll see what I can do."
* * *
When I arrived at the restaurant twenty minutes later, I didn't bother stopping at the host stand. There was a brown-haired girl waiting there—probably Teresa. Her blue eyes widened and she reached out an arm to stop me, but she was too late. I breezed past her and continued on into the depths of the restaurant, making a beeline for Monsieur Bouland's office.
I knocked gently on the door, bouncing on the balls of my feet. I ignored the strange looks a few of the newer staff members gave me, praying Monsieur Bouland was still here. A moment later, the door opened and the older French gentlemen stood before me, shock registering in his expression. He pulled me forward, pressing a kiss to each of my cheeks. I automatically mirrored his greeting, a smile splitting my cheeks.
"Ma chère, mais où donc étais-tu passée?" (My dear, where on earth have you been?) He asked, gently leading me deeper into his office. I settled down into one of the chairs across from his desk as he closed the door behind me.
I sighed, shaking a trembling hand out through my short violet curls. "En France?" (France?) I said, laughing innocently. "J'avais besoin d'un peu de temps loin d'ici. Je suis si désolée de ne pas vous avoir prévenu ; le voyage était un peu... soudain." (I needed a little time away. I'm so sorry I never gave notice; the trip was a bit... sudden.)
Monsieur Bouland nodded at my apology, his expression still warm and inviting.
"Je souhaiterais – si vous voulez bien de moi – réintégrer le programme quelques soirs par semaine. Je suis complètement disponible et je promets de ne pas me désister ou manquer un quart de travail." (I was hoping—if you'd have me—that I could get back on the schedule a few nights a week. My availability is completely open and I promise I won't call out or miss a shift.) I was rambling, unsure that if I paused to take a breath I'd have the courage to continue.
"Ma chère, je suis navré, mais tous les postes sont remplis en ce moment," (My dear, I apologize, but all of the artist shifts are full at the moment,) Monsieur Bouland said, spreading his hands wide in regret. My face fell before he continued. "Cependant, je peux rajouter ton nom à la liste au cas où l'un des autres pianistes se désisterait, et je sais que Sebastien n'a pas encore rempli le calendrier de novembre." (However, I can add your name back to the list in case one of the other pianists backs out, and I know Sebastien has yet to fill the calendar for November.)
I smiled gratefully back at the older man. It wasn't ideal, but it was more than I deserved. "Merci, Monsieur." (Thank you, Monsiuer.)
"Bien sûr. À présent, puis-je faire autre chose pour toi?" (Of course. Now, is there anything else I can do for you?)
"Pourrais-je vous importuner en demandant une part de Cerise pour Caleb et John?" (Can I trouble you for a slice of the Cerise for Caleb and John?)
"J'ai encore mieux. Que dirais-tu d'une tarte entière?" (I'll do you one better. How about an entire pie?)
* * *
Over the course of the next week, I struggled to force myself back into some semblance of what used to be my normal routine. I woke up, went to class, met with the Madame, and worked my first shift back at Daniel's. All in all, I made sure every night I was too exhausted to dream. I deleted my Gala piece from my Mac, but the composition still haunted me. My memories were beginning to resurface more frequently and it was getting harder to force them back behind the locked doors in my mind. Harry had been with me there in my dream. He'd been so real I could still feel his arms around me, his lips burning against mine. I'd wanted him there, and I wasn't ready to face the truth of the revelation.
Caleb and John were ecstatic to see me up and about again. Every morning, noon, and night I was greeted with a five star meal, surrounded the entire time by my family. Caleb and John didn't ask what had brought about my sudden change, but they didn't really care. To them, all that matter was that the girl they loved was back. Jas seemed to know without my having to say a word. It was both unnerving and comforting. I wasn't sure I liked being so goddamn transparent, but at the same time I wasn't sure that I could have actually followed through with the confession in the first place.
Right now, I was leaning more toward grateful. Jas was the only constantly simplistic thing in my life. She seemed to be the only one who didn't want anything from me and who wouldn't judge me for my rash decisions. I needed that judgement-free friend at the moment.
Leala frequented almost every meal during the week. Caleb and John led me to believe that she'd become a near constant presence in the house over the months I'd been gone. A year ago I would have thrown a world-class hissy fit at the sight of the feather-haired Brit. It wouldn't have been one of my brightest moments, but now... Now, I was happy for Jas and, though I hated to admit it, the girl was growing on me. Besides, she made my sister smile.
The world through the eyes of Leala Kaine was essentially black and white. While the rest of us were constantly stuck fighting our way through gray areas, Lee knew her place in the world. I envied her.
I spent what felt like the entire week in her and Jas's company. They tried to help as much as possible, but by the time Friday rolled back around I was still just as confused as I'd been the week before. I'd managed to avoid a repeat of my dream, but the re-runs were playing non-stop in my mind.
It was Friday, though, and I had a meeting with the Madame that, if I wasn't careful, would turn into more of an interrogation than a skills session. The second that I set foot in her office she would know that something was up if I didn't get my shit under control.
Pulling my Beats over my ears, I punched play, continuing whatever track had been mid-progression when I'd taken them off. Jas muttered a serene "See you later" while Lee just smiled her deranged, cryptic smile. I kissed Jas on the cheek before turning to make my way toward the Madame's office.
As I made my way across campus, I forced myself to compartmentalize all of the shit knocking around inside of me. I did my best to lock away all of the denial, frustration, anger, and lust. I was just about to click the final imagined lock in place when I came to an abrupt stop. I hadn't been paying any attention as to what was going on around me, and I definitely hadn't noticed the man standing smack fucking dab in front of me. The October morning sun glinted off of tousled chocolate hair, shining dangerously within the depths of his verdant gaze. Harry.
"Bien sûr," (Of course,) I muttered. Just like that, seeing him released every single fucking lock that I'd clicked into place. Incredibly unwanted emotions surged through me, choosing precisely the worst moment in all of history to try and overwhelm my control. Something stirred in the pit of my stomach, threatening to empty it onto the sidewalk at my feet. Phantom kisses danced across my skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. I clutched my coat tighter around my small frame.
Sucking in a deep breath, I struggled to dismiss the memories. Unfortunately, it did nothing to rid me of the very real Harry standing a few feet away. He watched me with a sad curiosity and I forced myself to right my shoulders. I schooled my expression back into the mask that was Ren Grace and locked my emotions as far away as possible. I only made it as far as pushing them just below the surface.
He watched me for a silent moment longer before turning and reaching for the door to the Music Hall, pulling it open.
Part of my heart rebelled, cursing him for turning away from me. It was the part I'd come to hate as of late. It was a fucking traitor, begging and pleading with me for just a moment more with him. It wanted me to forgive him—to go sprinting back into his arms. It was a part of my heart that I had been refusing to indulge in, but now, in this moment...
No. Silencing the rogue appendage, I fought back my emotions, boxing them up once more.
I forced another deep breath before side-stepping him, pulling open the other door. I wasn't more than three feet down the hall before I realize that Harry had never actually made it inside. Frowning, I risked a look back. He watched me through the glass, holding the door open as a steady flood of students rushed out. He was stuck as class after class let out. He glanced frustratedly back and forth between me, and the rush of students.
Realization hit. He'd been trying to hold the door open for me. I almost wanted to smile at the ridiculous notion—almost. Then the melancholia hit. It was that same stupid sense chivalry he'd exhibited when we'd first met and it bit me to the core. His plan seemed to have backfired thanks to my ignorance. He was now forced to choose between being polite or chasing me down.
I knew exactly which he'd choose, and this time, I did smile. It was a grim thing, and my own sense of joy was hollow and short-lived. I took the small piece of revenge, accepting it as recompense for the version of him my imagination had conjured earlier this week. It would do for now.
A/N: Hi hello! Welcome back for another #SonataMonday!
We are slowly building the #Harien drama! I know a lot of y'all are dying for more interactions and I can promise that they are coming.. slowly lol For now though, what did y'all think of the chapter? What do you think will happen next? GIVE ME YOUR PREDICTIONS.
Also, shout out to Darian_Lila for her brief cameo as Teresa -- insert #Hessa jokes here -- Darian has been a LONG TIME reader and is responsible for the IG account @ElleRoseBooksEdits. You should follow her. She posts stunning musical edits weekly!
If YOU want to be featured in upcoming chapters just like Darian, comment away!!!! Please. The more you comment, the more your name will stick in my head. Also, head on over to the chapter at the beginning of Concerto titled So You Want To Be A Character and fill out the brief questionnaire. I need to know more about you in order to do your character justice!
As always, please head on over and check out these fantastic reads:
The Famoux and The Classix by famouxx -- the world of the Famoux is stunning. This futuristic dystopia has everything you could want. Think Gossip Girl meets The Uglies meets murder mystery. Basically Kassandra is a gift from above. (Updates every Friday #FMXFriday)
A Dream of Snow by ScarletteDrake -- Scarlette's take on GoT is breathtaking. She's completely rewritten the last two seasons and the #JONERYS feels are killing me.
THE AROTTIR by hannahgrowe -- THE AROTTIR is dark and twisted with a bit of a social commentary. There are swords, and badäss lady warriors, and mature content just for the hell of it. (Updates every Tuesday #ArottirTuesday)
Alright, I think that's it for today. See you next week!
Loads of love,
--xE