Melody's Muse ✓

30. Prokofiev - Piano Sonata No. 7 in b-flat major, Op. 83

Melody

"Ugh," I groan as the annoying chirping from my alarm clock wakes me up. It's so early that it's still dark outside - my least favourite part about winter mornings. I stretch my arm out from under the warm covers and fumble blindly at it, hitting the snooze button. Just five more minutes, please.

Cole stirs a bit and sleepily pulls me back to him. He wraps an arm around me, enveloping me with his comforting warmth. I nuzzle against his chest, resting my face against his soft and smooth skin. I needily cling onto the last couple minutes before I inevitably have to get out of bed. I'm already dreading the preparation mom set up for me this week.

"They're gonna be here soon," Cole mumbles, voice heavy with sleep.

"I know, just let me enjoy this," I whine. Lucky him, he's on winter break now and gets to sleep in for the next two weeks.

I feel the slight vibrations in his chest against my cheek as he chuckles softly. "Alright." He lightly kisses my forehead and strokes my hair.

All too soon, my alarm starts beeping again. I curse under my breath and tiredly drag myself out of bed.

-----

I sit in the living room as I hear Mr. Carter letting my PR team inside. A sharply dressed man and woman come in, and I stand up to shake their hands.

The woman with tanned skin and wavy hair shakes my hand first. "Hi Melody, I'm Maeve." She looks quite young, late twenties at the oldest.

The man has lightly tousled jet black hair and olive skin. He looks slightly older, probably in his mid thirties. "Hi Melody, I'm Trevor. Nice to finally meet you."

Even though Maeve and Trevor have worked for me for nearly seven years, I've never met them in person. I recognize their names, but they mostly communicate with mom. At the very least, I know they're good at their jobs. I was not exactly the most well-behaved kid during the last couple months before I stepped out of the spotlight. If it weren't for their damage control, I definitely wouldn't have continued to be successful.

There's an unexpected visitor who comes in a few moments after them though. My stomach lurches when I see her.

It takes my brain a moment to register that she's actually here, the woman who has haunted my nightmares for years. I guess mom knew I would refuse if she had told me about this ahead of time.

"H-hi Ms. Daphne," I mumble.

She's wearing an off white blouse tucked into a long beige skirt. Her greying hair is pulled back into a neat bun. Small round glasses are perched low on her nose, attached to a long brown chain draping loosely over her neck. Her light brown eyes are cold and piercing. She's always had this permanently dull aura to her, it's as if she lives life with a sepia filter over it.

She looks pretty much the same, just older. There are more wrinkles in her face though, probably from all the frowning.

"Always mumbling Ms. Aria," she scolds me and shakes her head. It's been a long time since I've heard that unpleasant and jarring voice.

I haven't seen her in what, ten years maybe? Back when mom put me in her stupid etiquette classes. She was ridiculously strict and constantly made mountains out of molehills.

"Sorry." I don't even bother trying to sound apologetic.

"Here's the plan," Maeve begins to explain after we've all sat down. "We have three days before Saturday. Trevor and I will help you practice what you can say, while Ms. Daphne will help you practice how to say it."