Name: Music Author: katdragon Type: Short Story This is a new piece that I've been working on during the holidays. It's just something my overly romantic mind made up and I've been itching to get it down. I hope it won't have any chapters; I want it to be a plain simple short story. Anyway lets se how this turns out, ne? Please forgive me for any incorrect facts in this thing. I haven't done much research. Hope you like it! Rain eased down the cool window as two soft brown eyes wearily took in the scenery passing by the moving train. Tiredness had yet to consume the delicate frame of the girl but a yawn signified that she could not hold out for much longer. She didn't want to fall asleep. Every second she was brought further and further away from the busy city of London. She would miss London very much. She had grown up in a fabulous apartment amid its busy streets and walked through its parks on the way back from her private school. Most importantly she would miss the people she was leaving behind. Very much a family girl she had fond memories of Christmas dinners and Easter egg hunts in the country cottage. Her friends would often be with her, joining in the festivities as only they could. The girl let out a soft sob as she thought of her friends. Five in all they were THE group. They had met young at the many social parties their parents held. You know, get to know the right people get togethers. They were the group guys died to date and the girls wished to be. The best thing about it was that they were the closest friends a person could ever have....and she was leaving them. Leaving to go to England's most famous school of music. To be a primary violist. She would shine! She closed her eyes as she imagined being on stage. The orchestra silent as she lifted her bow to her viola. The first note, strong and precise as it cut through the silence. Strains of beautiful music wafting and dancing on the atmosphere in the concert hall. Lightly teasing the primary cellist and violin, floating in and out of their reach and finally leaving the lone cellist to play the last chords of longing. She smiled at the picture in her mind. She had come all this way. Through the viola lessons. Through the practice. Through the hours of being away from her beloved friends just because she had to perfect that one piece. And she did it because she had the strength, not the money. She flicked a strand of her loose brown hair out of her eyes in indignation. That's what they would think. They would think that she had bought herself into the primary position. But she would show them. She would show them that she, Angela Miller, was the best damn violist in the whole of England. August 22 She stepped off the train and onto the platform of the Cambridge train station at 3:45 on the dot. Her hand went up absently to smooth her dead straight, shoulder length hair as the autumn breeze played with it teasingly. She had two bags, the one she had on the journey and one that contained all those stylish clothes her mother bought her in preparation for the stay. Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned clumsily with the two bags. "Ms Miller I presume." She nodded dumbly. "Follow me then." The man took one of her bags, the larger one, and proceeded to lead the way through the milling crowds of people. She immediately had doubts about following the cold man but he had walked away with her things! What was she supposed to do? She pushed her way through the crowds, eyes glued to the broad back of the man. He led her to a navy blue car with the symbol for Cambridge School of Music printed on the door. "Wow." She breathed. He placed her bags in the boot and opened the door to the rear seat for her. "Thank you." He nodded acknowledgement and she slipped onto the leather upholstery. The car ride wasn't long, only about fifteen minuets, and when they stopped at the end of the long, circular driveway she was unceremoniously dumped into the care of a tight lipped, faded old women. The women beckoned for Angela to follow and waddled up the staircase leading from the grand foyer and through a corridor, passing fancy wooden doors. They eventually came to the end of her corridor and the women swung the door open. "This will be your quarters. Your timetable is on the desk and if you have any problems confer with Mrs. Thorca not me. I will be in charge of your domestic needs. You will refer to me as Mrs. Cantulburry. Is that clear?" "Yes, Mrs. Cantulburry." Mrs. Cantulburry scrunched up her pursed lips and walked out of the room. Softly, Angela walked over to the bed. Pressing down with the tips of her finger to test the softness, she sat down, and was swallowed whole by the covers. "Whoa!" Laughing she kicked of her shoes and brought her feet up under her to sit Indian style. From this position she assessed her room. There was only one bed, which could only mean....she had the room to herself! She sighed with relief. She had feared the roommate from hell from the first day she was notified that she would be boarding in the school. The room was lightly furnished. An oak wardrobe stood in the corner and a plain wooden desk sat near her bed. The window her bed was pushed up against let in bright sunlight and the curtains were of a sky blue rimmed with yellow. She lay back against her pillow and sighed contently. This was a FINE room. August 23 She woke suddenly to a beautiful set of cerulean blue eyes peering into her face. His arm, supporting his weight was pressed uncomfortably into her side nearest the window. He was leaning over her, analyzing her features. Oh God she could smell his cologne. She clenched her teeth and glowered. "Get off." His eyes widened in surprise but moved back when she pressed herself against him in order to sit up. A second person was seated at her desk and was pouring over her timetable. He smiled. "Ah! Sleeping beauty awakens." Angela's brow creased in confusion and her cheeks flushed with anger. She looked over her room. Her closet was open and in it were the clothes her mother had bought, the ones she hadn't bothered to unpack. The one at the desk laughed uncertainly and the blue eyed one that was STILL sitting on her bed looked at her angered expression confused. "Ah, look" desk boy said apologetically "I'm Daniel and this is Matthew" her gestured to the person on the bed, "We're your next door neighbors. Well, I am your next door neighbor Matt here lives across the hall. We thought we would give you a welcoming. But you'd flaked out on the bed without even unpacking! So we kinda, helped you out and I told Matt to wake you up, but he was more interested in...." Matthew glared at his friend. Angela's eyebrows lifted in intrigue. "...uh...the window." She smiled and nodded her head, casting her eyes about the room again. They finally rested on photographs of her family and her friends, particularly a classic photo of her and her friends stuffing around on the beach, arranged on the desk. Matthew looked at her increasingly angered expression. "We didn't think you'd mind." She turned on him, brown eyes flashing. "Yeah well I do." "Gee they're just a bunch of photographs." Angela was taken back, these photographs were all she had of her family and friends. They were everything to her at the moment. "JUST A BUNCH OF PHOTOGRAPHS!!!" Daniel jumped up, out of the seat at the desk. "Hey! Calm down." A smug expression crept over Matthews face. "BOTH of you." He sighed. "Look I have a lesson to catch so when I see you at lunch, that means both of you," Angela blushed at the invitation. "I want you on your best behavior." Matthew smirked. "A lesson on Sunday?" "Violin lesson." Daniel stood and made his way to the door. "I'll see you two at lunch." Tossing that over his shoulder he closed the door behind him. Angela leaned back into her pillow. Matthew laughed. "He's not usually as pushy as that." "No, he's probably just as suave as you." Angela rolled her eyes at her sarcasm. This guy really was a prick. Even if he was incredibly handsome. Matthew shifted uncomfortably, rose from his spot and walked over to her desk, leant over her timetable, analyzing it. Just like he leant over me. The thought struck Angela and she immediately shoved it away. How childish. She really was being stupid. "You're in the same orchestra as I am." Angela groaned. "What are you first, second violin?" Angela's face fell. "Primary Viola." She bit out through clenched teeth. "Well I'm sorry I didn't realise, your imperial majesty." "What's that supposed to mean!" Her stared at her from the desk. "That you're a stuck up snob." Angela was speech less. She was aghast. Of all the things to say he chose to say that! "Angela I'm so..." "Out." "Pardon." Angela stood from the bed, teeth clenched. "Get out." Matthew opened his mouth to say something. Deciding against it he purposely stood from his chair and exited the room. Angela fell to the bed. Lunch was fish and something that resembled....well, to be honest it didn't resemble any thing really. Matthew scrunched up his face and replaced his fork. Charlotte looked up from where she was gracefully picking at the fish. "What?" He gestured vaguely at the mush. "That." "It's mash potato." "Really?" She sighed. "That's what I'm telling me." Daniel hit him on the arm. "Dude, here she comes." Matthew clenched his teeth. The only *she* they were expecting was Angela. Who had just thrown him out of her room. He fastened his resolve and looked up, just as she walked though the dining hall doors. God she was beautiful. A hush rolled like a wave though the room. "She's really pretty." Charlotte breathed. Daniel stood and waved to her. "Hey! Angela, over here!" She smiled and picking up a tray from one of the servers wove her way over to the table. She faltered slightly as she saw Matthews's neutral expression but smiled again when Charlotte patted the seat beside her. Sitting in the place next to Charlotte she raised her fork but stopped suddenly. She leant over in Charlotte's direction. "What's that?" Charlotte grinned evilly. "It's mash potato." Angela smiled and shoved her fork into the mush. She chewed. She chewed. She swallowed. She smiled. Charlottes face a mask of horror. Angela laughed. "It's okay. Its just diced cheese cauliflower." She laughed again. Charlotte looked at the cauliflower confused. Tentatively she pulled a smidgen out with her fork. She ate it. "Oh! This is really nice!" Angela grinned proudly at her, recant shyness forgotten. Matthew smiled thoughtfully at her while Daniel poked the mush with his fork. HE wasn't going to eat it. August 24 Orchestra was different than what Angela was used to. She sat slightly infront of the firsts, plucking lightly on her D string. Charlotte had woken her up that morning with a nock on the door and a cheery hello. They were in the same orchestra as well. Angela and Charlotte went through the clothes that Angela's mother had bought and decided on a classic white T-shirt, forest green skirt and white, relatively heeled sandals. Charlotte was fantastic with clothes. Charlotte sat slightly in front of the seconds, her violin resting on her knee. Angela hadn't known she was the primary violinist. It had taken her quite by surprise when she innocently asked what level violin Charlotte was in. She had said: "Primary. Didn't you know that?" Angela of course blushed. She was getting terribly good at that. She wished she wouldn't. Matthew sat opposite Angela, talking animatedly with a large group of people in the primary cellist's position. A little too late Angela had found out that he was, literally, the most popular guy in the school, and most eligible bachelor. Angela had choked profusely on the information. Every so often one of the members of his fan club would giggle mindlessly at what he said and Charlotte would shake her head and Angela would roll her eyes. What airheads. To Angela Matthew was just about as interesting as a brick wall. In particular, one that had been painted grey. He rose from his seat and walked towards Angela. Reaching her he drew out a small sunflower. "Your highness, I present to you a sunflower. For friendship." He gestured for her to take it. She was confused and slightly furious. How dare he try to make a fool out of her in front of the whole orchestra. She stood, taking the flower from his grasp. Slowly and with precise movements Angela let the flower slip through her fingers and squashed it with the toe of her sandal. "Oops!" She picked it up and handed it back to him reclaiming her seat. The orchestra quieted in anticipation. Matthew smiled politely and tossed the remnant of the flower in the bin and retook his seat, with a stormy expression on his face, as the conductor, Mrs. Thorca, strode in. She smiled at the lack of noise and placed her music on the stand at the front of the room. "As you can see we have, for the first time, our very own, hand picked, primary violist. Angela, could you please stand?" Angela stood. There was a low murmur in the assemblage and Angela was pretty certain it had something to do with her little demonstration. She blushed. Again. "We will now be going into the pieces. Polishing them as much as possible and soforth. Angela you may sit." She smiled at the girl. "Now," she tapped the edge of the music stand "First piece." The tune was a telling of a love triangle in a far away paradise full of climbing ivy and flowering roses. The women were played by the viola and violin while the deeper tones of the cello conveyed the male. It concluded with the death of the women and the mourning of the man for his love, whomever it might have been. The violin started, a clear, strong A resounding of the walls of the music room. The cello joined in, the two instruments creating the magic of first love. The meeting, the secret glances, the confession. A soft sound of the viola introduced the third character. The orchestra rising behind the new counterpart and offsetting the melody she played. The cello's tune became uncertain, the melody that surrounded it played daintily with his heart. The viola rose in a crescendo, confidence from the attention raising the volume of the character. The violin grew shrill. The cello rose to meet the viola. The violin burst forth in confrontation, the viola rising also. The sound clashed...and diminished to the sound of the school siren. Mrs. Thorca sighed at the interruption of the powerful moment. She waved her hand. "Class dismissed. Pack up quickly, I've been getting some complaints from teaches for late comers to class." A murmur of assent flowed through the orchestra as students hurriedly replaced their instruments. Charlotte came rushing over to Angela, who was hunched over her viola case. "That was FANTASTIC! We have never played it that good before." She trembled with excitement. "Of course we never had YOU before." Angela blushed. "Oh, this is so great! All the pieces are going to make sense now!" Angela laughed at her enthusiasm and took of the shoulder rest and placed it in the case. "But didn't you have a primary violist before hand?" Charlotte rolled her eyes. "She was terrible. I mean, she couldn't even sight read." She turned up her nose in imitation. "Oh no! I can't cut my nails! They're to precious to me!" The two girls burst out in hysterical laughter. "Really?" Charlotte nodded her head, zipping up her violin case. "Uh huh. And that was only the start of it." Charlotte stood and gestured towards the door. "Come on, we'll be late." She clipped her own case shut and made for the exit. He was blocking the door. "That was really good." The crowd waiting behind Matthew silenced. Angela's face turned stony. "Thankyou." She tried to push past him. He blocked her again. "I mean, the last violist was really bad." "So I heard." "Uh, would you like to walk with me to the next class?" Walk with him? Was this supposed to be some great honor or some thing? She smiled sarcastically. "No." She pushed him aside as slight murmurings of 'give the guy a break' came from the crowd. Angela ignored them and walked steadily down the corridor to her locker after saying bye to Charlotte. He was a creep. After that whole fiasco with that damn flower and trying to 'humble' her in front of the whole orchestra, did he honestly think she would give in to him? Unless, of course, he wasn't trying to harm her when he offered the flower. She faulted as she drew herself up from placing her viola under her locker. Damn. She swung open her locker and pulled out her English text, shoving it into her file. Damn confusing guy he was. He had the nerve.... She stormed off down the hall to her English class. Who the hell does he think he is? Passing the doors she searched them for numbers. "Hang on-." There weren't any damn numbers. She growled in frustration. "I offered to take you there before." She knew that voice. And, she realised; it was now officially ingrained in her memory. She turned to him, her face storm clouds. Matthew smiled at the frustration evident on her features. "It's really hard to get around campus if you don't know where you're going." "You're telling me." "You could follow me if you like." She looked at the people in the hall. They were sparse and not a whole lot of them would know what happened in orchestra, she hoped. She sighed and looked up at his tall frame to...hey where did he go? She shook her head in frustration and followed his retreating back down the hall. Well really. <><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*><><><*> okay okay.....i can't write short sories.... And if your asking this does happen to be CHAPTER one. Are you happy?!