Miracles In December

(Chapter 2) Four Days Till Christmas

The only thing that I love about Decembers is the Starbucks drinks. Yes, it is needless to say that I am a proud and dedicated lover of Starbucks, and it's not just a "white girl thing."

I step in Starbucks and take a whiff of the amazing smell. My dream is to become a barista because honestly, who doesn't like the smell of coffee? It helps me stay awake when all I want to do is fall asleep and never wake up.

I order a Caramel Brulée Latte- one of my favorites- with extra whipped cream on top and stick my hands in my jacket pocket, fishing for money. I take out a twenty dollar bill- the same bill that the dude gave me for throwing a snowball in my face yesterday. What a strange and rude guy. He didn't even say sorry or ask if I was okay; he only gave me twenty dollars. Who does that (not that I'm complaining about the free money)?

I hand the money over to the cashier who hands me the change, and wait patiently for my drink on the side. I sigh happily as I receive my order and step outside, breathing in the fresh, frigid air. 

What now?

I decide to walk to a park nearby, but before I arrive at the park something stops me on my tracks. Something beautiful. 

Chopin Nocturne op. 20 in C sharp-minor.

I have always loved music, especially classical piano pieces, when I was young. I never learned how to play the piano because, well, orphanages don't have pianos. I didn't have money to buy a piano or take piano lessons, so all I could ever do was listen to the pieces. 

I follow the sound of the light music and I hesitate before entering an abandoned-looking, neglected building in an empty alley. Where am I? I don't have a clue, but for some reason, the music is dragging me towards it. The mysterious person is playing it so beautifully and with so much feeling that I can't even control my body's senses at the moment.

I stop outside a room, with the door slightly ajar, and peek through the crack. I'm pretty sure the room is soundproof, but I was able to hear it because I was born with amazingly sensitive ears.

I stand there mesmerized by the mysterious figure and his fingers elegantly running through the keys of the piano. It feels like time has stopped, but his fingers are amazing enough to defy time. 

I am not aware of how long I stand outside the door listening to the amazing piece. I swear, I could have stood there forever if it isn't for a sudden a sudden disturbing interruption- a ringtone.

Let me feel you,

Ride it,

Turn the lights down low,

Ride it,

From head to toe,

Ride it, ride it

I stupidly reach into my pocket for my phone, but stop when I realize it's definitely not my ringtone, since I don't even have a phone. Besides, even if I did, my ringtone would be less... obscene.

"Hello?" The boy in the room says after he picks up his phone. What a pervert to have a ringtone like that! It shocks me that a person who plays the piano so exquisitely has such a sexually aroused mind. It is definitely misleading. 

I continue to eavesdrop as he talks on the phone because yes, I admit I'm a naturally curious person.

"H-hang on there, baby girl. I'll be there really fast," he says reassuringly although his voice is a bit shaky. "I love you too, Cassy. Wait for me."

With that, he runs out the room with such speed it scares me. I quickly hide in between a ledge of a wall and another room before he could spot me. After he is long gone, I step in the room where the piano is.  Why is there a piano in this ancient looking building in the end of an alley? Who knows.