The Concert

Untitled Part 8

I have never appreciated being home-schooled as much as I do now. In the past three courses I have gotten no less than 37 notes, which I promptly through away, been proposed to, and asked on five dates. Apparently, the general consensus among the male population of the school is that I'm "bang-able". I have to groan at the though as I push my way through the over populated halls to get to my independent music study room. It is in the corner of the school that hasn't been used in years. 

     I get into the room. I think there is only one other student in the class, and he is not here yet, neither is the supervisor. I unpack my violin, preparing the sponge, and checking the bow strings. I take out the sheet music for Variations on Nel Cor Piu Non Mi Sento by Paganini. I shouldn't need it, I have played it twice. I have a feeling it will be in my next set list. I don't normally curse, but this piece is a pain in the ass. But, my father bought the music for it, so I must learn it. Joy. The song is ten minutes of absolute hell. My father loves the piece because there is not one measure without a "trick" of some sort.

     I blank my emotions and get into position, staring down the neck. The bow touches on the first note and I lose myself. I break out of my trance on the last horrid note of the song and look up. Both the other student and the supervisor start to clap. I feel heat rising in my cheeks, how long had they been standing there? 

"I apologize for not noticing you sooner, how are you?" I say smoothly, my voice never wavering.

"I'm great. That was... amazing," Victor responds, "I would love to play a duet with you." My blush intensifies.

"He is very much correct, Miss Sorenson, you have impeccable technique. How long have you been playing?" I bite my lip trying to calculate how long. I started playing at age three...

"Twelve years, sir. Victor, it would be an honor." Mr. Blackbourne seems shocked at the number of years I have been playing.

"That means you have been playing since age three?" I almost laugh at his confusion.

"Yes, my father was ... is very adamant about me playing violin." He doesn't respond to this. Victor chuckles.

"My father is the same way about my piano. Now what do we want to play? What do you know?" I giggle at that. What do I know? Well just about every song my father could find in sheet music. He seems confused.

"A better question would be what do you have music to play? I have all my songs memorized." Mr. Blackbourne seemed shocked at this and I just shrugged. Piano, you can bring music onstage for, violin, not so much.

"Do you know Vivaldi's Four Seasons." I brighten. It is one of the few pieces I actually enjoy. I learned it at age seven, before I developed an absolute hatred for my talent. Mr. Blackbourne counts us off and we begin to play. I go into my musical trance and play through all four pieces. I hear Victor, but I don't at the same time. My playing confuses even me.The piece ends and Victor comes up to me. He plays up the formalities, obviously teasing. He bows.

"Wondrous job Miss Sorenson, that piece was magnificent," he says in a stronger accent, he is making fun of his father. I hold in a giggle as I bow.

​"You played magnificently Sir Morgan," mimicking the tone my mother uses when talking to Victor. He busts out laughing and I giggle a bit. Mr. Blackbourne looks at us, amused. Victor pulls me in for a side hug, and surprisingly I don't blank out. I don't think I've ever been this comfortable with anyone.