The Maestro | RusAme |

Twenty-Six

Ivan knew immediately when he wanted to ask Roderich for Amelia's number that he had an issue on his hands. He couldn't help but feel like he'd betrayed himself, because he knew she might do the same thing. He was so afraid of hurting himself again-

He sent it anyways. Little did he know, Roderich was freaking out, elated that he asked. The Austrian had no clue they had met up, But when he asked Amelia and she told him they were hanging out next weekend, he died of satisfaction.

Although Ivan was well aware that Amelia might not be the same person she was in their senior year of highschool, he couldn't help but feel extremely uneasy. He set his phone down next to him on the twin-sized bed.

He sat in his old room, looking around at all of the things he'd left overseas to come back for. There were many sentimental items, like photos he left, books on the bookshelves, and posters that were hung by the desk and window. He was sitting on his old bed, which was an old twin they'd bought used when they moved. He slept there the night before uncomfortably, his feet hanging off.

He faced his old bookshelf, looking at the framed picture of the Sochi beaches with his father and his sisters. He couldn't help likening his conflicted feelings he felt toward Amelia to his father, especially after he finally visited him again when he was in school.

He remembered who his father used to be before he had become unstable, but he knew not to have his hopes up for him to have gotten any better. However, when he came in and visited him, he saw just a shell of a man, surprisingly. He didn't know what to expect; he could have welcomed him home warmly, tried to murder him, or apologize for his wrong-doings.

The more surprising part was that after talking to him for a long time, he started to open up and become his old self, with no memory of his past aggressions.

He had no idea what to feel about the man after that. He couldn't help but hold some sort of grudge against him and keep his guard up around him, but he still loved him. He was his father, afterall. Rather, he loved the version of him that was a loving parent, which only seemed to come through now, after he had ruined his relations with his family.

Kind of like Amelia, which aggravated Ivan. She was such a beautiful person, but she ruined a perfect relationship they had together. And now she's been showing her face more, even more beautiful that she was before, but she still could not take back cheating on him.

He was standing in front of the book shelf with the picture in his hand, looking at it for a good thirty seconds until his mother opened the door.

"Oh, sorry, I'll leave if you want me to!" Anya apologized after noticing the picture in his hand, about to close his door.

"No, that's alright Mama."

She meekly opened the door a but wider, asking her son unsurely, "Did you see him when you were at school?"

"Yes."

She was too curious not to press further. "What did he have to say?"

"Well," he set the picture down gently, walking towards his mom. "He told me he misses all of us very much, and that he's proud of his kids... But he doesn't remember any of the times he hurt us. He apologized profusely to me just about the whole time."

She nodded, "I'm glad he was feeling more like himself... Speaking of which, how is your neck?"

"Mama-" he argued with her, covering his face with his scarf.

"Oh, Iv! You know it's because I care about you." She huffed, grabbing his shoulders and leaning him forward for her to inspect him.

She peeked behind his scarf on the right side of his neck, inhaling sharply. "You know, it actually looks better than the last time I saw it... It's a shame it isn't on the left, you could easily cover it when you play violin."

Ivan rolled his eyes, "It's not like I could have decided that..."

Anya sighed, retorting, "Hey, not my fault. I was only saying, it wasn't to be mean. Just think, you still have a handsome face, no scars there." She straightened his scarf, holding his face in her hands. She noticed how much more mature his face looked; his jaw was more defined, and his face was not as rosey as it was when he was younger. He was almost a carbon-copy of his father, but his eyes were more like his mother's and his sisters'.

"I know what you're going to say," Ivan mocked, "'Oh my goodness, you look so much like your father!' Am I right?"

Anya shook her head laughing, "You know me so well, but you forgot one thing. You have my eyes, and you're prettier than him." She patted his face, dropping her hands to her sides. "Thank you for getting groceries, I'm going to make dinner. Il'ya should be back from his business trip tonight, so you can tell him why you're here."

"My pleasure. I'm going to keep looking for a place to live or practice..." He smiled at his mother gently, watching her leave and walk to the kitchen. He set his hand on his neck, feeling where it started at the middle of his throat and ended at the nape of his neck. He wondered what people would say to him if he didn't wear bandages or a scarf over his neck. It even made him wonder how he was able to find anyone who thought he was remotely attractive. When he looked in the mirror, he still saw same old Ivan. But when he saw someone like Amelia, she had grown into a beautiful young woman. She was a total bombshell!

He had no clue if she was interested, or if she was still with Gilbert. But he just hoped she'd maybe take him back, despite not being nearly as good looking or being super outgoing and despite how he felt about her fidelity. He'd only know if he wanted give her another chance if he spent more time getting to know her.

He looked away from his mirror, then at his phone. He got a notification, so he took a couple short strides toward his bed and looked to see there were only two places that were renting.

After thinking everything through, taking into account the kind of living space he needed, he made a decision and knew he'd need to start packing his things.