"So a day when you've lost yourself completely
Could be a night when your life ends
Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving
All the pain held in your
Hands are shaking cold
Your hands are mine to hold…"
-All American Rejects-
Her hands swayed gracefully in the air, as her delicate fingers manipulated the bow with so much passion. Her expression was though she was lost, no, drowned into oblivion. A sunken treasure than can never be discovered yet again.
The audience was in silence, stung by awe, their incredulous faces amusing to a stranger's eye. But to one little girl, oblivious to the wide stares she's been receiving since the start of her performance, everything was going smoothly. After this, she'll rise to the top. Outshine her seniors who in turn were either watching with utmost support, or glaring with unspeakable envy.
The fourteen year old, whose caramel hair was glowing bronze in the spotlight, with a well varnished violin nestled on her shoulder blade her fingers pinned on some strings, while her right hand descended and ascended like waves as wondrous notes engulfed the coliseum. Fantasy Impromptu Op. 66, Chopin, a difficult piece as commended by Bob Dickens, but flawlessly, measly done by a child prodigy.
Her silver tube dress was glittering, along with her, and her music. The people were closing their eyelids in an attempt to grasp the authentic, yet original melody more and choke it down to their memories. No other performance could possibly outdone what the master has, but this girl, had, and would've probably been at par with the previous greats themselves if she was born in a different time. Distinguished music critics refer to her as the modern day Mozart, a living relic, a true genius, an incomparable new figure for classical music.
But all that was about to change.
A metal string snapped, went berserk and hit her ivory face. The audience had awoken from the lulling masterpiece and was gaping in disappointment at the young girl in front, with a messed up violin and a bleeding cheek. The theater erupted in murmurs and nods of disapproval.
No greater humiliation could ever befall to a musician than stopping midway in her solo performance in the Teatro Alla Scala, in front of five big time judges, two of them happens to be her parents, with a good for nothing trashed violin on her left hand, a bow on her right, and a swollen cheek.
Then and there she knew that her dreams had shattered.
"You are a disgrace." She heard Serio, the Serio, the best conductor and composer of the century, her idol, muttered.
As she froze in front of all the people who recently were admiring her musical prowess, but was now sighing and shaking their heads in regret, a girl simply watched her, her lips curled up in a satisfied grin.
It has been two years since the incident that led the debut of her career down into the incinerator. The day she started, was the day it ended in a fatal blow.
She ruined everything, her name, her family's reputation, her parent's recognition, her pride, her future…she had lost all those. Because of one fucking string that just had to snap at the worst possible time, at the worst possible place in front of the worst possible people.
Mikan Sakura laid her body flat on her comfy bed as copies of complicated pieces torn and crumpled scattered about the room. Her violin, her once pride and glory, was hurled onto one wall, breaking it into fine shards of wood. While her bow remained untouched in her treasure box, otherwise known as her chest of junk.
Three knocks on the door made her grunt.
"Miss Mikan, your father summons you to the dining room." A woman in her mid thirties wearing a refined maid uniform entered and curtsied respectfully.
Mikan upon hearing her father's order curled herself into a ball. Having another one on one talk with her neurotic old man that lasts for an hour or so doesn't sound so good right now. Never has and never will.
"Do I have to?..." She groaned as she squeezed her face on the soft maroon pillow.
"Yes, or his Sir will be displeased." Angie, their loyal since birth head maid said while stroking Mikan's head. Apart from her biological mother, Mikan had only felt pure love from her. Since the day she was born, to the day she first stood, to the day she first walked five steps without falling down and crying, the day she first encountered the dusty old violin in the basement and began to play it professionally, Angie was there. And because of their long established friendship, they have a special relationship far stronger than with her other friends. Angie was like her second mother.
Mikan sat erect her eyes trailing from one crumpled paper ball to another. She had gone ballistic last night. Whatever the impact of her disgrace must've been equivalent to two metric tons of iron thrown at her, after two years her uneasiness and guilt continues to linger in her frail body.
"Oh come on dear, he must be worried about you. After you threw a crazy tantrum like that last night, I wouldn't be surprised if your father wanted to comfort you." Mikan chuckled. The word 'comfort' and 'your father' couldn't be any less than a conspiracy, or for her, an amusing joke. Yeah, right. Her father had been a crazed psychopath lecturer ever since her complete and utter bloke during the competition. He yaps about pointless things nonstop and forces her to practice at least five hours a day. If ever there was a poll about the World's Best Dads, her father would probably end up last place with donkey crap as a trophy.
Sighing, Mikan stood up and walked off with Angie trailing behind her with a considerable distance.
As soon as she entered the dining room, the room's atmosphere became awkward and gloomy, like it has always has been, her big time public 'accident' had nothing to do with it.
Her father, current owner of the Yukihara Corp, maker of fine and expensive professional instruments, had his elbows on the table with clear exasperated features while muttering incoherent words under his breath, her mother, principal of St. Cecilia's School of Music, was ignoring her very presence as she sliced her steak and fed small bites to her mouth. Her older brother was sneering at her, before he would walk out in shame for his younger sister was known to be a 'legend' far beyond his own skills, but now she became an object of his senseless ridicules and tyrannies.
"Sit." Her father ordered sternly. His hands clasped beneath his shaved chin.
Mikan did as she was told but in an uninterested manner.
"I don't want to beat behind the bushes Mikan, so I'll tell this to you straight. I'm sending you to your Aunt." He was staring at her with a fiery gaze, like this was meant to be some punishment. Unfortunately, heading to her Auntie Imai's was more of plain heaven than hell.
"You've been missing out on lessons. Your skills are worsening by the minute. And even if you are willing, the shame of your little stunt will forever be scarred in the Sakura family. This is not vacation, Mikan. I'm permanently relinquishing your kin with the family. You'll be part of the Imai's from now on."
Though she expected some tragedy to befall her, she didn't see this coming. She wasn't being sent to straighten her up, she was being…shipped. Disowned.
"So just because I made a mistake you're going to give me away to some folks?!" I banged my palms on the hard wooden table. Mother…well since she'll no longer be one, Yuka, lifted her cold gaze and glared at my misconduct.
"Don't you dare raise your voice on me Mikan. You reap what you sow. I've given you enough time to regain your condition, but instead, you reluctantly, half heartedly, improve your music just because you think you're the best. Sorry to bust your bubble child, but reality is, no music companies are willing to hire a girl who stumbled out on a performance in front of thousands of well known people, even Serio."
Mikan gritted her teeth while her brother snickered. The weight of her blow two years ago is falling down once again on her shoulders. She could feel it, the pain, the humiliation.
"Fine. Do what you want you scumbags." She didn't know how to address her ex-parents anymore. Might as well speak the truth.
In her room, she packed all her belongings which amounts to a mere stroller and a suitcase containing her favorite violin, her grandpa's.
Her father prepared for her to go next week, but she thought what was the use of waiting, no, enduring the days wherein her family name will soon be taken away from her, discarded by her own family like some biodegradable trash.
Her parents were currently in their room, and her brother was practicing his…adequate piano skills in the sound proof, thank God, music room.
"Mikan are you sure? Why so early?" Angie asked worriedly.
"I'd feel better this way. Oh and by the way, tell that bastard to shove a musical sheet up his ass. Tell the bitch to stop applying some damn cream unto her face she's uglier as it is. And don't forget to remind my brother that if he ever wants anyone to listen to his play, make sure it's someone deaf."
Angie smiled. "Good luck."
Mikan flung her bag coolly behind her as she tugged on her stroller. Since their driver only follows direct orders from her parents, the only way to leave this hell hole was to do it the ordinary way.
After half an hour, she managed to reach the gate of freedom and out of the devil's grasp. She hailed a cab that'll transport her to the airport. There, she paid thrice the average amount for a one way ticket to Japan, first class, of course.
She waited a good two hours before a flight attendant announced that the plane has arrived and made her way to the plane. Women in grand Dolce and Gabbana dresses, Ferragamo hand bags, Prada stilettos and the like accompanied by their Armani tux wearing boyfriends/bosses, lazily find a place to sit as they started discussing or making out on the white leather seats.
A stewardess pushing a cart of croquettes, pastries, a roasted chicken, and some white wine stopped by her area and glanced at her boringly. "What do you want?"
"White wine please." Mikan said with a fake smile.
The lady not caring whether she's a minor or not, handed her the whole bottle and made her way to another customer where she smiled flirtingly to the Calvin Klein model who in turn squeezed her ass. Yuck.
Using a pen, Mikan yanked the cork making it shoot directly towards the lady's ass and earned herself a glare but continued to flaunt with the sexy model who was now massaging her ever so revealing thighs.
Mikan turned her gaze to the window. No clouds could be seen, just the cerulean that seems to cover every bit of the sky.
Some moans could be heard at the seat behind her. Mikan, who could no longer tolerate the disturbing noise, got her precious white wine, raised it, and poured it at whomever unlucky victim there was at her back. She heard a few curses as she emptied the bottle.
The slutty stewardess approached her with a scowl plastered across her lipstick smeared face.
"Who the hell are you to do that to a customer?!" she snapped.
"Someone whom the likes of you will never find out." Mikan replied.
"Whatever you bitch! Just get out."
Mikan stood up dusting her jeans as she rummaged through her bag yanked out five thousand Euros and threw it at the girl.
"That should be enough for the damages," Mikan eyed the wet couple still making out behind her, they never learn do they? "And probably for some contraception." She spat out in disgust.
The guy, conscious enough to hear her, snapped out of their erotic trance and glared at her. His tangled raven hair damp and shimmering, his body hugging polo now a little transparent showing his perfectly built chest and a nice set of abs. The blonde haired girl in his arms simply squirmed in dire need for him to touch him.
They had a long glaring contest before the guy finally gave in to the girl's pleads and moans and smirked as he continued his postponed session with his little blonde whore.
But before Mikan could leave for the economy class, he never forgot to give her a flirtatious wink as she nibbled the girl's earlobe and trailed butterfly kisses on her neck as the woman in his arms moaned and pressed her body against his.
"Cocky bastard." Mikan said disgusted as she walked out.
YO pipz! Hah! This'll be my third fanfic yeah! This is sort of music related, n' of course there'll be lots of hot romantic scenes!!! I'll be updating My Wife Is a Gangster soon, as for Killing the Prince, I'm still waiting for the 70th review!!! So please read n' review!!!