A girl with talent (Tashi & Adam)

[Adam Edwardson]

It was past midnight, and the concert had ended more than an hour ago. The extra number she had worked on for the past month wasn't even played - the applause had been polite and brief. And the most important man, well, the only important man, had left his seat early. Mr Donovani, the financial patron of the school, did not even care to listen to the end of the show. Even Nina, a girl who's lack of talent had puzzled many, had received more praise than her from the audience. A worse outcome than this was hard to imagine.

The second she left the stage, Mark, her best and maybe her only friend at the school had walked up to her. "Good luck explaining that…" he had said, in an unusually unfriendly voice. "The boss wants to see you in his office, at half past midnight."

So for the past hour, she had been waiting. The all to familiar corridors of the school, now empty, wasn't a very good companion for someone waiting for what might be her final judgment. When the doors to mr Edwardsons office finally opened, it was Nina who opened them. "You can come in." the petite girl said, looking down at the floor. She was wearing a black dress, far to short to confirm with school regulation, and her long curly blonde hair was in a mess. Nina was infamous for being the subject of many rumors, like the time she returned from a "vacation" with much larger breasts, but it was still strange to find her at mr Edwardsons office at this late hour.

Inside the office, her trainer were sitting behind a big oak desk, as usual filled with unsorted papers, half written letters and music sheets. The room was big - with the financing from mr Donovani, the school could afford marble floor, a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a panorama view of the city for its more talented teachers. Mr Edwardson was still wearing his tuxedo from the evening, but the black bow tie was just hanging around his neck. He was in his mid 40's, but with the tired look on his face he had now it looked more like mid 50's. His black hair seemed to have more gray in it, and his dark brown eyes were empty of both hope and emotion. "Why…" he asked with a hoarse voice "Why are you doing this to me?"

 

[Waaagh]

Elisabeth knew she messed up. Big time. As a violinist she's a core of most plays-if that core even slightly fails the entire play follows. And she didn't fail just "slightly". She failed tremendously. She couldn't keep the pace, she was messing up the notes, she couldn't synchronize her music with the rest of the orchestra. The cold, disapproving stares from the audience and the fact that mr.Donovani left halfway through the play only made the matters worse for the poor girl. No wonder she dropped the violin during her solo play later, ultimately finishing her performance with this disgracing accent.

Was it really that surprising though?
Sure, she was one of the best violists this school ever saw. Talented and hardworking, she was an example for many. And although she was most often playing violin she was proficient with almost every music instrument, which was even more amazing considering the fact that she was barley 18. Music was her life- ever since she was "discovered" by mr.Edwardson, the very person who she was about to confront now, when she was 7 she has been doing her best to become the greatest musician ever.
But, during the last weeks the quality of her plays dropped significantly. She couldn't focus, she kept losing the rhythm, she couldn't keep on with the rest of the musicians. Nothing as bad as what happened roughly an hour ago, of course, but still, she knew that her plays are, for some reason getting worse and worse. What was it? Stress? Anxiety? Some sort of mental disorder? Overworking herself? She used to keep thinking it over and over again, trying to find the cause. But...did it really matter now!?

After all, she was about to get expelled. She knew it in her "guts". She's been standing in the cold corridor for over an hour, her legs, which were protected barley by thin black thigh-high stockings and knee-long elegant shirt were shaking. It was winter and the school was not heated during the night-normally no one stayed here this late. But, this was hardly a normal situation....

Suddenly the door opened and Nina came out. For some reason she looked really down on her mood-her hair messed up, her head down she whispered "you can come in" and walked away without even looking at Elisabeth. Maybe he was angry at her because I messed up she thought and her legs crumbled a little, halfway from the feeling of guilt for what might have happened to Nina because of her mistakes and halfway from fear of what might happen to her now.

Steadily, the petite, black-haired girl recognizable from her pale complexion, stunning beauty and (formerly) superior music skills entered the room while slightly shaking, head down, afraid to even look up at her teacher. She froze upon hearing his question and then, with all her strength, she looked into his eyes and answered in a shaking voice
"I-I'm sorry..."

 

[Adam Edwardson]

For a second her teachers eyes displayed something that at least resembled compassion or sadness, but when he spoke he's eyes filled with rage. "That isn't much of an explanation, it's not even much of an excuse." His voice was trembling as he struggled to hold his rage back. No there was no compassion in his eyes, maybe it had just been pity. "But in the end it really doesn't matter why you are a failure - the result will be the same, my dear." My dear. He only called her that when he was upset or dissatisfied. The two kind words were not a gesture of love, but of contempt.

He got up from his chair, and lit a small cigar as he started to saunter restlessly to and fro. "Your little performance this evening might just as well cost us half our budget." he said in between puffs on his cigar. He only smoked when he was nervous or upset, and now he seemed to be both. "Missis Andrews, the piano teacher, told me she though you were making some kind of childish rebellion, that you were a diva that needed to be put into place." He stopped to look at her for a short second, his eyes studying her body carefully, inspecting her like she was a painting he was just about to bid on. "I told her that you were just a poor musician, but maybe she was right." he said, exhaling smoke at her face. He was standing right in front of her now, his sharp rugged face just inches from hers, standing 6' 5'' tall he had to look down to gaze into her eyes.

"But the thing that worries me most is not the fact that you can't find the key, no, I could stand some technical mistakes." He shook his head. "No, it is the fact that after more than ten years you still don't play with any passion. You just don't feel the music, it is not a part of you. Grand Pas de six is about pain, and playing it like it was just a collection of notes stacked on each other is an insult to Tchaikovsky!" Her teacher did not even sound very angry anymore, maybe he didn't feel the need to waste any emotions at all on somebody who soon would be a nobody. After a relation that had lasted more than half of her life, she didn't even manage to get him to hate her - disdain was the strongest reaction she was able to provoke.

"I will give you one last chance. Get your violin and play the final part of the Swan Lake for me one last time, and I will try to help you find the connection to the music. I will help you feel it, if not in your soul at least in your body."

 

[Waaagh]

As soon as he spoke her will to resist him shattered and her head fell down. The rage in his voice....the sharpness with which his voice cut through her thoughts...the certain that she WILL be expelled this time...As he continued his rant her legs kept shaking more and more and feelings of self-pity and self-hatred started taking over. Why did she have to screw up? Why couldn't she play as she used to? Tears started coming to her eyes, yet she dared not to raise her head. She believed him when he said that her failure might cost the school half of their budget. She believed him when he said what missis Andrews said about her, that woman never liked her. And she believed when he honestly told her he considered her a bad musician all along. And it hurt. It hurt her both as a person and as an aspiring musician...even more so because she couldn't find anything in her defense.
She coughed as smoke filled her gentle nostrils. Instinctively she raised her head up only to quickly turn it back down upon meeting his ruthless gaze.

Then, as he kept talking in, now, a much calmer voice... that she doesn't feel the music...that it's not a part of her...that she's an insult to Tchaikovsky...she wanted to object. Music was her life. He knew that. How could he kept saying these things despite that?
And yet..if she truly understood music...why did she kept failing lately?
So she didn't object and kept listing to him, knowing it's finally their last meeting. What is she going to do? She has hardly anywhere to go. Maybe she'll...she'll...

Just as she was going to start crying because she couldn't even think of life outside the Academy, he said something.

Something unexpected.

I'll give you one last chance...What was that? What was that again?
New hope filled her soul, her heart begun to race. Violin? Bring violin? Last chance? Play?
She raised her head and looked into his eyes. As cold as ever. But she didn't mind anymore as she bowed deeply before him and said in a clear, if a little soft, voice.
"Thank you, mister Edwardson. I will do my best!"
She bowed again, turned around and almost rushed out of the office. She completely ignored the part about "teaching her body", treating it as hogwash the old man would say out of anger.

------

Few minutes later she was back, ready to show her teacher the best of her. Her hair as eleggant as always, her eyes filled with determination, her hand squeezing the bow in the way it almost hurt her. She blinked few times to cool herself off and knocked at the office's doors, mentally preparing herself for what was about to happen.
Except...
Elisabeth Tanner had no idea what was about to happen.

 

[Adam Edwardson]

He smiled when she returned with her violin in her hand. There were something weird about that smile - it was not a friendly and warm one, that was for sure. No, there were something smug about it - it was filled with self righteous excitement, and the half smoked cigar in the corner of his mouth just reinforced the impression.

He put an arm around her waist, a strange thing since he seldom touched her at all, he seldom touched anybody. "Come here, my dear." he said, and firmly led her to a full length mirror hanging on the wall, positioning her right in front of it. His arms did in no way look week, quite the opposite, but he still felt stronger than he looked when he moved her around. Now he was standing right behind her, his hand still resting steady on her hip - the only warm point in the chilly room. Their eyes met in the mirror as his head towered above hers in the reflection, and the strange mix of anticipation and condescension in his eyes radiated at her.

The two of them were alone in the room, probably alone in the whole 18th century neoclassical sand stone building that was the school. The scattered lights of the otherwise dark city could be seen through the window, and the quiet clatter of rain against the glass was all that could be heard. They were alone in all this space, but yet he stood so close to her. She could hear his breath, feel the warmth from his body, smell his perfume. There were something familiar about that smell... Wasn't it the perfume that Nina always overdosed so lavishly?

"The forth act. Siegfried and Odette meet again. Two separated lovers reunite. It begins with longing, desire, passion. Grand pas de six. Capo." He sounded like a director at a stage, and in some way maybe he was. The only question was what scene he was setting up.