Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. I'll try and update at latest next week. I got a new laptop so I can write more! -Alyssa
***
I sat on the edge of my bed as I sifted through my bag, looking for a hair brush. It had been two weeks since returning home from Spain. Nights were spent dreaming about my adventures with Ed, reminiscing on the beautiful sights and sounds of my time spent abroad. My days were spent distracting myself, listening to music, taking lessons for the violin (an instrument I had always loved), cleaning my house, and facetiming Ed. He had been working on his new album, set to be released in a few months. He sang and played his guitar to me, getting my opinions on the new songs which were always wonderful.
I slammed my suitcase shut with a frustrated sigh escaping my lips. I quickly pulled my hair into a messy bun on the top of my head. I observed myself in the wall length mirror across from me. I was wearing a black skirt that had purple and blue flowers decorating it, a grey tee, black tights, and black boots. I was also wearing a jean jacket and a purple scarf. For once, I looked put together. I smiled at my reflection and grabbed my small, black leather violin case. I walked out of the door.
The streets were crowded, the air chilled. People huddled in light jackets and gloves. I swung my violin case back and forth, gazing at the people around me. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and swiped it on.
"Well hello there, beautiful," Ed's voice chimed in through my phone. I instantly felt a smile light up my face.
"Stop being cute," I laughed, stopping at a street corner. I checked both ways before crossing.
"I couldn't wait to call you because I just came out of the studio and had my creative juices all flowing," he said quickly, his voice filled with pure joy and excitement. "Just listen to this." Ed took the phone away from his ear and talked to someone on the other line. I was a few blocks away from the small studio, Treble, that I took my lessons at. I had around seven minutes to get to class.
A recording of Ed's guitar began to play and soon, I could hear Ed singing.
Loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes
But it's the only thing that I know
When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes
It is the only thing that makes us feel alive
We keep this love in a photograph
We made these memories for ourselves
Where our eyes are never closing
Hearts are never broken
And time's forever frozen still
Ed pulled the phone away from the speaker that played the speaker that played his recording. "It's called Photograph."
I smiled thinking of the song lyrics and thought back to the night before I left Spain. I laughed and pushed a piece of hair behind my ear. I held the phone to my ear with my shoulder.
"It was beautiful," I replied. I heard a slight commotion on the other line. The studio was just in sight. The red brick lined building was right across from Central Park. It looked like a little antique, homey place. Downstairs was home to a small cafe, constantly filled with tourists and hipsters sipping fancy-named coffees and typing away at their fancy laptops. Upstairs was the music studio, run by a woman named Marlene. She was a little old woman, sweet and caring. Her hair was the color of ash, her eyes crystal blue.
"I have to go... I'll call you later. I love you," Ed rushed. I said goodbye and hung up, stuffing my phone in my pocket. I skipped the rest of the way to the studio, taking the oak stairs two at a time. Upstairs, the room was bright and beautiful. Three of the walls in the studio were windows, allowing the bright sunlight in during the day and overlooking the bright night life when the moon was out.
Lana sat in a chair by the windows, filing through sheet music. Lana was my music teacher. Her long auburn hair was illuminated by the sun that shone bright behind her. She was bundled up in a cardigan and jeans. When she saw me, a smile appeared on her face. We loved working together because in the short time since I had first walked into the studio and signed up for lessons for the instrument that was hidden in the back of my closet, I had prospered. I was no Bach or Mozart. I was definitely not going to have my work world famous any time soon. I had started classes not knowing any music, confused on how to hold the instrument in my shaking hands, unsure of the proper technique of sliding the bow- a piece of ivory and horsehair glued together- against the strings. Taking lessons with Lana, I had learned how to pluck and bow the strings beautifully, reading the sheet music and translating it to actual music. I felt great joy when I learned a new piece and when the other members of the studio clapped to one of my mini performances.
The piece of the day made me laugh. It was the violin version of Ed's song, Give Me Love. Lana did not know about my relationship with Ed, nobody did. It was nobody else's business and we preferred to keep our private lives private. I stood in front of the music stand, my violin on my shoulder and I began to play, the music filling me up.
***
I left my lesson with a smile planted on my cheeks. Although I had not gotten it perfect, I had worked on it and was beginning to improve. Lana expected me to get it perfect in two classes, tops. My plan for the rest of the evening was to facetime with Ed and practice the song.
The street was chilly, the wind blowing my hair over my eyes as I crossed the street. Taxis swerved in and out of traffic, speeding through yellow lights and honking wildly. The city was a scary place but it was home, although my heart didn't feel completely full like a puzzle with a single piece missing.
I stuffed my left hand in my jacket pocket, swinging my violin case under my arm as I walked down the city blocks. People laughed in front of bodegas, kissed in front of apartment buildings, and held hands while crossing the ratty cracked sidewalks.
"I miss you," I whispered under my breath, casting a long look down at the ground as the sun started to recede, the dark blue clouds taking their rightful place in the night sky. I walked up the steps of my apartment building and pushed my key into the lock, opening the door. Checking my mail, I shuffled to the elevator and walked in, pressing the button to the top floor.
The hallway was loud, music blasting from one of my neighbors. This wasn't something common but I shrugged my shoulders and dragged my feet along to my door. As I neared my door, the music got louder. I slid my key into the key, turned, unlocked, and pushed the door open.
"Surprise!" a group of shouted as I entered the doorway. There stood Ed, Harry, Taylor, Simon, Murray, and Courteney. The room was decorated with string lights hung on the walls, illuminating the room like little fairies. Streamers were hung from the walls, pink and maroon balloons attached to the ends of the tables. Candles were scattered on the tables, lighting up the room in bright candle light.
I felt tears spring to my eyes as I stared at my friends in awe. They began to laugh as I shuffled my way inside, setting my violin near the shoe rack. Courteney and Harry hugged me first, singing along to the song in the radio. Next was Taylor. It was my first time meeting her and I felt myself begin to shake as she wrapped me up in her warm arms.
"It is so wonderful to meet you. Ed has been talking non-stop about you," she whispered in my ear. "You seem like a wonderful girl and we definitely need to hang out."
"Thank you for coming," I replied, hugging her.
Next was Simon and Murray who hugged me tightly. Simon was Ed's manager. Murray was Ed's cousin who also recorded any videos for Ed. Since they were at all of Ed's gigs, I had gotten really close with them in those two months abroad. We constantly played pranks backstages after Ed's long shows. They each mumbled something in my ear and u just nodded.
Finally, Ed wrapped his arms around my waist and I rested my chin on his shoulder. We fit like a puzzle, the missing piece restored.
"Surprise," he whispered in my ear and I just laughed. I kissed his cheek and we joined the party.
It finally felt at home.
***
I picked up the strips of streamers off of the floor and I tossed into a big black garbage bag. I looked at Ed, who was throwing out plates and cups, still in shock that he was here.
"I thought you were recording music in London," I said, trying to figure out how he was there. He was supposed to be in London for a few weeks, recording music and promoting his new album. But there he was in my apartment, throwing out garbage and throwing surprise parties for me.
"I was but I missed you," Ed replied, tossing the bag into the garbage can. Ed snuck up behind me, pressing his soft lips to my cheek as his arms snaked around my waist. I smiled.
"I want to show you something," I stated, walking to my violin case and pulling out the wooden instrument from the leather box. I set my sheet music on the small metal music stand and began to play Give Me Love.
As I stopped playing, Ed applauded and pulled me into a hug.
I never felt prouder.