I was hit with sudden inspiration and had to write this. I decided to go ahead and post the first chapter now, and see if anyone thinks it's worth writing more of. I'm definitely still writing my other stories, and should have updates for both of them this week.
Anyway, here it is. Hope you guys enjoy it and please review and tell me if I should continue or not!
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.
Music flooded from my piano, strains of Beethoven filling the smokey bar. My fingers moved across the ivory keys effortlessly, I knew this piece like the back of my hand, I could play it without having to think about it.
That gave me the opportunity to shut my eyes and try not to breathe in the disgusting smoke and just listen to the music. I tried to pretend I was somewhere else, anywhere else. Like...a stage. The lights dimmed, aside from one on my piano, the audience watching me with adoring and surprised expressions as the music poured from my piano, playing the classics and my own original pieces...
"Cullen! What have I told you about playing this crap? People don't come in here to listen to Mozart or whatever. They want to hear something current."
Mike Newton's insufferable voice cut me back to the present-and the bar. I shot him a scornful glare. Beethoven! I wanted to shout at him, but I knew that he was too dumb to care or remember. "Maybe I was trying to class the place up," I muttered sarcastically, reluctantly ending my classical music and playing some pop song that I heard every five minutes on the radio.
"I heard that," Mike called back at me, as he turned away to walk back to the counter, his eyes focusing on some tall redhead.
Poor girl, run while you still can, I thought to myself, shaking my head. I didn't answer Mike, because he knew as well as I did that he was supposed to hear that. Not that he was paying attention to me or my playing anymore, just the redhead.
I rolled my eyes, shutting my eyes, and trying to ignore the music as well this time. It was pathetic, really. I had been so 'promising'. The kind of person they called a prodigal, born for this. And here I was, 22 and in some rundown bar, playing music that I detested. Yeah, I was sure showing a lot of 'promise.'
I resisted the urge to glance at the clock. Last call was at two, and then I would be able to start the long walk back to my house and try to get a few hours of sleep, if I was lucky. It was a few minutes till two now, I could tell by the bartender-Tyler-beginning to clean up the place a bit.
I switched into some other song, one I was still learning to play. It took my full attention trying to get the music right, and I was grateful for the distraction from my loud thoughts. It was a long song as well, and it would kill a few more minutes.
I guess maybe things weren't so terrible. I loved the piano, I loved playing. Even if it was a song I hated, I still got to play the piano, and that's what I needed. I was like a junkie, and the piano was my fix-I always had to get more of it.
"Can I help you?" I heard Mike ask someone, in a bored tone.
"Um, yes." Answered a quiet timid voice. Her voice was soft and sweet, almost melodic. My head snapped up from my piano to see who the voice belonged to. It was a tiny young woman, maybe twenty-but probably not-with a nice figure and long brown curly hair.
Mike turned his attention away from the redhead-who I was pretty sure was very drunk-to look at her, waiting for her to go on.
"I'm a singer," she blurted out, and she turned to glance at me, as if to enhance her point, a blush coloring her cheeks. She was cute, that was for sure. As she looked at me I could see her large brown eyes and full lips. There was an innocent but determined expression on her face.
"We don't need a singer," Mike said, straight to the point.
Her face fell and she turned back to him. "Couldn't I just sing you something?" she asked, and she sounded...desperate.
"Sorry kid, it won't change my mind," he told her honestly, and turned back the redhead.
We didn't really need a singer here, or at least, we couldn't afford one. We got people in here all the time, trying to prove they could sing, and most of the time they were just really freaking bad. It was hard not to get short with people after a while. But I found myself wishing that he would give this girl a chance.
Oh please. I was getting ridiculous.
She looked well...devastated. But only for a minute. Then she picked up her chin and squared her shoulders. "Thank you for your time," she said, forcing the politeness a bit, and then turned to walk out the doors.
I had the strangest urge to follow her. Woo, what do you know, you finally are going insane!
I still couldn't shake off that strange feeling though, and I found it hard to concentrate on playing anymore. I finally stood up, pushing away from the piano. "I'm taking off, Newton," I muttered in his direction. He was much to caught up in the girl to care, and he just waved me off, muttering something I couldn't catch at me.
I grabbed my jacket, shrugging it on and shoving my hands into the pockets, heading out into the dark Chicago night. It was actually a pretty warm night, but I huddled into my coat nonetheless, starting the long walk back to my house. I could take the subway or the bus and make it considerably shorter. But I just...didn't.
I liked having the time to think, I guess. Which was crazy, considering that's one of the things that bugged me most. Thoughts. Thinking. I could never stop thinking, and that drove me insane. I was fighting this inner battle inside, and I really didn't know what I was fighting over.
I sighed. One of my problems right now was feeling like I hadn't done anything in my life except disappoint. I disappointed my parents, just playing in some bar, I disappointed all those people who thought I had so much 'promise' and I disappointed myself. I hated feeling like this. I knew what I was going to have to do, but I didn't want to do it, so I was putting it off as long as possible.
I was going to have to quit and get a real job. Maybe go back to college and finish becoming a lawyer. I could make my parents proud, become a responsible citizen, move out of my parents house finally and make more than enough money to live on. But I knew there wouldn't be much room for playing the piano then. I was going to have to give up my drug to get that life, and I wasn't sure I could do it.
"Don't break down, in this broken world around you..."
The words stopped me in my tracks, freezing me to the spot. That voice..the person singing. It was....if there was an angel, that was it. That was her voice. She hit the notes perfectly, her voice smooth and honey sweet. I continued to listen to her sing, memorized. She sang high note, and low notes, and each one was perfect and beautiful. It was...the most beautiful thing I had ever head.
I finally managed to snap out of my reverie, and I looked around, desperate to find the owner of the voice. I needed to find her. It sounded like it was coming from this alley, so I headed down it, ignoring the mud and water, and the smells coming from a dumpster. I was also pretty sure I saw a rat watching me with beady little....rat eyes.
And then I saw her, still singing. I stopped in my tracks, studying her face, it's familarity hitting me.
It was the girl from the bar.
And there it is. =]