Chapter 9

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Word Bank:

•bien joué (bee•ahn•zhu•ay)
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My heart was hammering in my chest as I played the six-part piece in front of my professor. His observant stare was enough to intimidate anyone, but over the past four years, it had turned out that he was a great and kind teacher, only wanting to push his students to do their best.

"Bien joué," he said stoically.

Two simple words made my heart heave a sigh of relief. Because of the gig, I wasn't able to focus much on the six-part piece and was essentially sight-reading the music. Thankfully, I had enough practice that it wasn't completely foreign.

He kindly went over some of the spots that I hesitated on, helping me flow the piece along better. It made me feel way more confident each time I conquered a piece and furthered my motivation to get better.

My fingers glided over the keys with ease for the other pieces that I knew by heart, the world of music engulfing me in its beauty.

He urged me to feel the music more, to embody and embrace it as if it was possessing me. He watched on proudly as I tried to put my heart and soul into it.

By the end of our lesson, my hands were cramped up, but he believed that I was more than ready for the gig and future endeavors.

I thanked him before leaving the private hall to head back to my dorm.

It was a rainy day prompting most of the campus population to stay inside. But I, like the hopeless romantic I was, adored the rain. It was probably my favorite type of weather, which sounds so lame, but the romantic ambiance that comes from it makes my heart swell. Even if you're not with anyone, it's super special on your own. Loving yourself is just as romantic, you know.

I stalked back to my dorm, only to find it unlocked and a mess with all my friends gone. There was a note left on my desk that the three of them had driven down to Nice for the weekend.

I sighed in annoyance, cleaning up some of the mess they had made. I loved them, I really did, but it was really irritating when they didn't pick up after themselves or left without telling me. It wasn't a common occurrence, but when it did happen, they usually never called me to come because they thought I was always busy.

After a few minutes of trying to pick up all their dirty laundry and whatnot, I heaved a sigh, giving up on the task. I wanted to go out. Friday evening, rain was pouring, it was perfect for a little stroll.

Of course, my dear friends had taken all the umbrellas and the car, so I would just have to go in a hoodie and get a cab, but that wasn't too daunting.

I walked back through the campus, out onto the front, the rain pelting against the top of my hoodie. The feeling was fun so I didn't really mind, which is why I pouted when I felt the feeling of the droplets disappear and a shadow appear over my head.

"Hey-" I started to whine, but when I turned to the culprit, it was the one who had often been showing up at moments like this. "Yoongi-"

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you again. I just didn't want you to get sick," he said softly.

I chuckled, "You know...it has been debunked that standing in the rain gets you sick. Just a little fib so our parents don't have to deal with a wet and cold child."

He flushed, "Y-yeah but still."

I giggled, "You get flustered very easily, don't you Mister Min? Well no matter. It's cute."

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