Chapter 3: Mocking Audacity

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Andrea's POV

My eyes were still fastened. I was trying to relax myself on the king-sized bed where the stranger left me to rest. I guess I did slack off a bit. I wish to get up to and finally open my eyes, but I still feel the world swirling around me. I let out a heavy sigh, pulling the gray fluffy comforter up, which I just managed to blurredly sneaked a peak in and snug my face onto. It also smelled of Jasmine, just like her.

I smiled as I remember the warm feeling of being in her arms as she managed to barely carry me here in a bridal style. Her gentle touch as she carefully removes my L.L Bean boots, the way she asks permission despite of my seemingly unawareness, to take off my black H by Bordeaux cardigan and Jeans. Making me feel comfortable, leaving my satin crop top and my lace lower undergarment on me. The situation of being undressed by someone whose name I don't even know should have made me alarmedly uncomfortable. But it was her gentleness which made me lose my doubts, the way she carefully placed the comforter which soothingly touched my skin, then the faint sound of her slow footsteps walking away I assume out of the bedroom since I haven't felt her presence afterwards.

I wonder what time it is, but from the look of the darkness filling up the room despite of the dim light coming from the bedside lampshade, I presumed it will take a couple of hours before sunrise. Sunrise?

Oh shit. Damn how could I completely forgot about my classes! I must get myself home. I got up but cussed as I felt everything in sight revolves around me. Shit, oh shit. I tried to look around without moving my head, searching for my clothes but I found none. Where the even heck I am?

Holding my head with my other hand I tried to hold on gripping at the side table for support. Tousling my wavy red hair, I took a deep breathe to regain focus to come up of what must be left to do? Think Alexandria, think. The stranger! I gather my strength to stand up. Somehow I manage to keep my balance. Thank god the floor of this room was carpeted for me not to easily slide off.

I wonder where the stranger is. The totality of my vision is still distortedly blurred. I took a step outside the room. Is there anyone around?

When I heard this melodic sound coming from a distance, I stopped. Recognizing the instrument being used, a piano. The mellow resonance was harmonized by a melancholic voice from the tune of it; the song being played was "What about Angels" by a famous British icon, Birdy. I followed where the sound was coming from leading me to another opened door. The voice was husky yet taunting, is it the stranger that helped me a while ago?

We know full well there's just time

So is it wrong to dance this line?

If your heart was full of love

Could you give it up?

My question was answered when I saw her slender form seated in front of the black grand piano. The room was a little dark, no furniture was on sight but her and the black elegant piece of instrument in the corner of this wide room, facing those gigantic glass windows where tiny glints of lights coming from other buildings and houses from the hillside part of the city can be seen. I tried to reconstitute my blurred vision by blinking so that I can clearly see the stranger and then I was stunned from the bracing image I was about to see.

'Cause what about, what about angels?

They will come, they will go and make us special,

Don't give me up,

Don't give me up...

She was bawling in pain with every stoke she does on those piano keys. Her shoulders where her wavy ash blond hair had fallen were shuddering; her voice was trembling as she sang those lyrics with great torture, as if she was trying to talk with someone.

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