The Musicians Desire (Dulcet Series #1)

Chapter 9

Crisanta Marie Diola

Isang linggo na ako sa unit ni Hayden. Ibig sabihin ay apat na siyang nag e-ensayo na walang pahinga para lang sa importanteng kompetisyon na gusto nilang mapanalunan. Matapos ang araw na iyon ay hindi na siya bumalik ulit para i-check ako kung humihinga pa ba.

Sa loob ng ilang araw ay wala akong ginawa kung 'di ulit-ulitin ang routine na ginagawa ko since day one ng pag-alis niya rito. I prepare myself, play his favorite piece, cook three meals and a snack, surf the internet for informations, practice the Twinkle Twinkle Little Star 12 Variations on Ah Vous Dirai-je and sleep. It was impossible for me to meet his level as an expert but if I practice, I'll meet his standards and he'll help me to learn another instrument.

After eating my breakfast, I dried my hair with a towel and started to search for another information. Katabi lang ng laptop ang aking notebook at ballpen para kung sakaling makakita ako ng ugnay sa hinahanap ko ay masusulat ko rin kaagad bago pa ito mag refresh ulit.

For the past few days, I learned few things that my family doesn't want me to know about.

First, our so-called perfect clan of writers are all fake and cheaters. It all started twenty years ago when my very own grandfather, the one who died because of me, has caught red-handed inside a secluded beach with his mistress, doing their own thing. And to my complete horror, as my grandmother's response, she also had an affair with some family guy who had five kids and a bedridden wife! I even have to summarize all of the events happened just to understand and disseminate the information throughout my personal notebook and scratch papers.

The second one was the worst. I learned from a website that an uncle from maternity side, bribed and blackmailed a famous publishing company just to publish his poor written and artless junks without even proofreading! At the end, the readers were disappointed and wanted their money back but he ran away and they never saw him again. And of course, the family have to clean his mess, hired some professionals to leave no trace of his disgrace.

And there's me, the third issue. Gossips and blogs about killing my sister was scattered throughout the internet. Some even left comments, saying that I'm a mess and maybe I'm adopted because I'm talentless unlike the one I killed.

After all the gossips and theories, I wasn't satisfied. So I searched for my great grandparents' names and saw the brightest blog I've ever seen.

The blog was dedicated for Lucille and George Diola– my great grandparents. Nahanap ko ang isang ito sa pinakadulo, dahil na rin ito ang pinakaluma sa lahat ng mga naka post. Ang sabi sa paunang bati ay ipinost ito ng apo ng totoong nagsulat at may nakasulat na libro para sa kanila. It was a rare book and she's not sure if the library restored it, so she posted some spicy parts of the book that I'm dying to read.

Lucille was in love with a person named Sybille, a famous conductor of Philippine Orchestra, under the clan of Ocfemia. She was a poet that time because of her boredom, she's not a full-time writer yet. They were in love since highschool and decided to marry each other. But when the day of the wedding came, Sybille wasn't there. He was gone, like a faint melody in the air. And then, some foreigners told the family that they saw Sybille, conducting a show with his orchestra for an orphanage but never said a word. To save Lucille from humiliation, George Diola saved the day– married the poor lady and had kids. During the wedding day, witnesses saw, heard and remembered what Lucille said that day.

“It was not the music who makes you suffer and feed you with pain; it was the one who plays it and kills you with vain.”

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