Have a wonderful day. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I actually really love writing it and I am glad you all love it. You are all wonderful!
-Alyssa
It was the next day and I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring down at the pamphlet Taylor had given me. On the page were photos of people playing violins, flutes, and pianos. The pamplet read Talented Musician hunt, Open Auditions for Julliard at Carnegie Hall. Auditions start at noon on March 13.
I looked at the lock screen of my phone. It was 8 am, March 13. Something inside of me told me I should go. This was a once in a lifetime chance. Granted, I had not been playing the violin for very long but what harm could come from auditioning? You need this. You need something to pick you up from the rut you've been stuck in for way too long, I thought to myself. I got up from my spot on my bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was long and tangly, knotting itself into little balls around my shoulder. My shoulders sagged forward and my face looked like it hadn't worn a smile in years. My eyes were droopy and red from the lack of sleep. My hands had a slight tremor to them.
I had concluded that I had fallen into a hole, that I had somehow lost myself when I lost Ed. Before this whole mess, I hadn't known what I wanted to do with my life but at least I was trying to figure out who I was meant to be. I was looking for a job, trying to get into a better school. I was looking for me, trying to piece my life into something I could be proud of. But at this point, I had given up everything. I had turned into a hermit. I didn't leave my apartment much. I didn't have many friends and those I did have were all thanks to Ed. I didn't want my life story to revolve around Ed. I didn't want my life to be what it was because I had dated a celebrity. I wanted my life to be what it was because I had made it so. I wanted something for myself.
I looked down at the paper again, my hands shaking even harder. A sploch of water hit the paper, making the ink run. I looked up into the mirror and was shocked to find myself crying. It felt like that was all I had been doing lately and it was finally time to do something else. I pushed my closet doors open and picked the perfect Julliard outfit out, ready to make a woman out of myself.
***
I was walking down the street, my violin case banging against my hip. I checked my watch. 10:30 am. I didn't want to get there too early, afraid I would look too eager. I looked at my reflection in a bodega window. I was wearing a peach dress that hit just above my knee and heels. My hair was a mess on my shoulders and I sighed. For some reason, the hair represented my entire existence- unruly and messy. It never seemed to stay the way I wanted it to, always finding a way to twist itself into a rat's nest. I needed something different, something new that could make life simpler. I walked down the block, stopping into a small hair salon named Salon G.
A girl with long blue hair came up to me, her lips pursed and her eyes friendly. She led me to a chair, washed my hair, and combed through it gently.
"Cut it all off," I said, shrugging my shoulders as I closed my eyes and she started snipping at my hair with a pair of scissors. I was at peace when I heard the sound of the scissors trimming my hair and the feel of hair fall past my shoulders. It was like a weight off my shoulders. My sadness, my grief, my anger fell away with my hair. It was as if the hair was the center of everything, as if the sadness had nestled itself into the length of my hair and once it was chopped away, I was at peace. I know it sounds silly but all I felt was giddiness as the hair left me.
When I opened my eyes, a gasp escaped my lips and I pressed my hand to my lips. My hair was short. It was off my shoulders, ending at the top of my neck, the pieces of my hair not even hitting my ears. Side bangs laid on my forehead, grazing my eyebrow. "I love it!" I squeaked, paying the hairstylist. My hands shook slightly as I touched my hair, smiling as I picked up my violin case and left Salon G.
It was 11 and I had an hour to get to Carnegie Hall. I was only about 20 minutes but I knew I had to get there a bit earlier to get ready. I hailed a cab, stepping on the side of the road and raising my thumb in the air. A line of cars whized by before a yellow taxi stopped infront of me. I pushed the leather case into the seat and said, "Carnegie Hall." The driver pulled into traffic and I opened up my case, staring at the wooden instrument in front of me. This was my only chance. If I didn't make this, I would prove my mother right. I would prove to her and myself that I had made the wrong choice moving to New York. That was the last thing I wanted. I didn't want to face the fact that my life was so close to failure so I pressed my earbuds in and pressed play. Selena Gomez's song of Ghost of You started to play.
Turn my back to the door
Feel so much better now
Don't even try anymore
Nothing left to lose
There's a voice that's in the air
Saying don't look back nowhere
There's a voice that's always there
And I'll never be
Quite the same as I was before
This part of you still remains
I nodded along to the song as the cab pulled to stop and I looked out the window. A tall building with four doors and 3 flags was infront of me. A line of people were standing infront of the building, eagerly chatting and carrying their instruments through the doors. A girl was standing on the curb, tuning a cello, her long blonde hair swishing along the instrument as she stared intently at the instrument, her lips pursed.
I paid the cab driver and got out of the cab, holding my instrument close to me protectively. There had to be at least 100 people already there and I knew more were coming. Everyone was dressed up in their best clothes- suits, ties, dresses, heels. I was glad I had decided to dress nicely as I looked down at my clothes, a sigh of relief escaping my lips. As I approached the doors, a man in a suit and tie handed me a clipboard and pen. "This is an application. Fill it out and hand it to the woman with red hair when you've completed it. You'll then get a call number. You're number will be called when it's time for you to go in," he instructed, ushering me into a lobby complete with dozens of chairs, sofas, and tables with complementary snacks piled onto it.
I sat on one of the chairs in the corner of the room, my violin case tucked under my chair. I leaned on my elbows as I filled out the survey. The questions were simple- name, age, address, financial circumstances, address, instrument, length playing etc. I cringed at the part with financial circumstances though. I hadn't even thought about the tutition here. I wasn't rich by any means and there was no way I was asking my parents for money. Even if they agreed, it would be mean they would have control over me again. So I put down my income and moved onto the next question. Hopefully I would get a scholarship or I'd have to get a job. It was a shock I could affird living in New York as it was.
My call number was 58a. There were three groups in total- groups a, b, c. Groups A would be going first and their auditions would run from noon to two. Group b's auditions would run from three to five. Finally, group c would audition from six to eight thirty. Each group had a total of 250 people, a total of 750 people auditioning. Anybody who came after the 750 people were selected would be turned away and their dreams would be crushed. Group A was sent into one room, complete with another table of snacks while the other groups were held in the lobby. We were given two badges- one to identify our overall group and one with our number. In that room we were told to wait and do whatever we needed to do- practice, look over sheet music, or for one girl across the room, cry loudly into her hands as she talked on the phone with her grandmother.
I unlatched my case and pulled my violin out. I observed the smooth wood, sliding my hand across it carefully. The strings were perfectly tuned as I picked up the bow and slid it across the instrument. We had to play two pieces- one classic and one contemporary according to the guidelines of the auditions. My classic piece was going to be a piece from Bach and I still had not choosen a contemporary piece to play. I put the violin under my chin and began to practice my classical piece. I lost myself in the music, swaying my body to the music.
***
"58a, you're up," a woman with short blonde hair announced and I looked up from my violin. She was wearing a black suit, a pair of glasses on the tip of her nose. My hands began to tremble and I coughed out, standing up from my seat. Sweat began to form on my forehead, trickling down my temple as I made my way to the back area of the stage. A boy was sitting at a piano, pounding away at the keys. I heard him make a small mistake, pressing the wrong key by accident. I knew one tiny mistake could cause you everything so I bit my lip and shook my head, trying to calm my racing thoughts. The boy stopped playing, the judges said something to him- I couldn't hear what they were saying because it felt like my ears were buzzing with static.
The woman in the suit nodded to move, pointing at the stage. I picked my violin out of its case. With a shaky breath, I walked out onto the stage. The lights on the stage were bright and I could feel the sweat pooling on my neck. I slowly made my way to a small x on the stage, center stage. I looked out into the seats. Right in front of the stage was a long wooden table. Sitting behind the table were five people- three men and two women, all professionally dressed. They had computers in front of them, probably saving paper and doing all their judging electronically. I took a deep shaky breathe.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Alyssa," I managed to say loud enough for them to hear. I pressed the body of my violin under my chin, brought the bow to the strings, and began to play the music of Bach's Concerto in A minor. I tried to forget everything else in the room. I pushed the thought of those judges to the furthest part of my mind. I forgot about the other people outside, waiting for their turn to show off their talents. I forgot about the last week, about Ed, about Taylor. I forgot about my parents and their endless doubts. The only thing that mattered in that moment was me, my violin, and Bach's Concerto in A minor.
As I closed the first piece, I took a shaky breath and paused. There was one song lingering in the back of my mind for my contemporary piece. It pained me to even think about but it was my best contemporary piece. I didn't have any other choice if I wanted to get into Julliard and become the person I was meant to be.
"This next piece, my contemporary piece... is Ed Sheeran's Give Me Love," I choked out, wiping the sweaty palm of my hand on the hem of my dress, clearing my throat, and pressing the violin on my shoulder again.
The notes came back to me. With each note, the memories of Ed came flooding back. The memories of us intruded my thoughts but with each strike of the bow, each pluck of a string, I pushed him away. I pushed every memory of him away. I willed myself to forget him like he forgot me. I willed myself to gain the strength that I needed as I played with so much power. Each note pushed Ed farther away until the only thing I could think of was the notes coming from my instrument. It was like I was in a bubble and there was only the music to comfort me. The music was licking my wounds from the previous few weeks and giving me strength.
At the end of my piece, my ears were clogged and I could barely hear the judges clapping from me.
"Wonderful... I can't give you an official answer but that was definitely up to Julliard Standards," the center woman praised me. All I could do was whisper a thank you. I packed my violin back in its case and walked off the stage. My hands trembled as I opened the door and walked into the main lobby. I felt overwhelmed.
I was up to Julliard standards? That was a good thing, right?
It had to be a good thing.
I took my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen. There was a bunch of messages from Taylor, Harry, and Zayn.
I opened Harry's messages first.
Harry- Are you doing okay? I haven't heard from you in a while. I know its a bad time right now. If you need to talk, I'm always here.
I smiled at his kind words but the last thing I needed right now was Harry. Harry was a great guy but he was one of Ed's best friends. His main priority should have been Ed and my main priority needed to be me. I couldn't be around anyone closely related to Ed for a little while. I didn't need that drama in my life, as much as I still loved Ed and maybe I always would.
The next message was from Taylor.
Taylor- Alyssa, where did you go yesterday??? Look, I know it's a hard time for you and I'm not trying to pressure you. I just want what is best for you and Ed. Just, call me when you can.
The thing was, Taylor shouldn't have had to worry about me. I was fine. I was alive and healthy. I didn't have any major injuries that needed rehab. She knew Ed first, she was closer to him. She shouldn't have had to focus on me. But that was Taylor. I knew she didn't mean any harm and didn't want to hurt me but like what I said with Harry, I needed to be my main priority even if that meant hurting Ed. I couldn't leave Taylor worrying- she had done so much for me- so I texted her quickly. I have to think through a few things. I need to focus on me for a little while and I just can't think of him right now. Maybe when he is a little better and has the energy to try and remember, I can go back but not right now. Sorry... PS, I went to the audition. I quickly hit sent and went on to the next message. It was from Zayn.
Zayn- Hey there. I just wanted to say I had a good time at Spark's the other day. You're pretty fun :) How's your day been?
I smiled despite myself. Zayn's message was actually a bit of a relief. I understood why everyone was so focused on Ed, they had a reason to be. But I didn't. The last thing I needed was to think about someone who didn't even remember me. But Zayn, he didn't bring Ed up. He didn't remind me that Ed needed my help. He didn't treat me like a four year old who needed constant supervision. He didn't try and baby me because I was sad. He treated me like a human being. I typed out a responce. Actually, it's been pretty eventful.
Maybe letting go of the past could be easy.
Because at the particular moment, the last thing on my mind was Ed.
It was Zayn.