The murmurs around me turn into chatter, as I wait for Isla to be on stage. It's just a small time gig, but I'm silently praying that it all goes well.
The bar we're in is quite dimly-lit, a few candles surround the actual bar area, but apart from that there is little light. I sit on an empty table, as close to the stage as possible, a soda in my hand. There are only about half a dozen people in the actual bar, but they still don't make that much noise.
I keep checking my watch and waiting for her. I imagine she's tuning her violin right now. I take a sip of my soda and wait for the music recital to begin.
It was a hard gig to get. Isla and I literally begged the bar owner until he caved in, but he thought 'violin recitals just wouldn't be appropriate for the age group the bar attracts.' Clearly, the bar didn't attract any specific age group as it was nearly empty and you could hear the howling of the wind and loud screams from the bar across the road.
A small bold man, whom I recognise as the owner, walks onto the small lifted platform, they've decided to call a stage, and taps the microphone to check it.
"Now, welcoming our lovely duo, Noah Lavorsky the pianist and Isla Woodley, the violinist." He says, and I clap vehemently at the mention of Isla's name; everyone at the bar looks at me like I'm a sick puppy and goes back to their talking.
Then, I realise I'm the only one really listening. A few couples at the bar engage in loud chatter, which involves tumultuous laughing and doubling over and a group of college mates keep nudging one another and roaring with drunken laughter.
I would tell them to shut up, but the curtains have been drawn and Isla Woodley stands with her eyes fixed shut and her violin in hand.
Noah begins playing a melody on the piano, but I'm to busy to listen. Isla's hair is out and swaying when the bar door opens and closes. She wears a lilac dress with little yellow flowers embroidered on. A little blush and mascara has been dabbled on her cheeks and eyelashes. She looks breathtakingly beautiful. Uncaring and free. The music sets her free.
Suddenly, she takes her bow and draws it across the violin. The sound fascinates me. It's mellow yet coarse. Then, her hands move at lightning speed, the bow is drawn over the violin at different angles creating all different sounds.
Isla twitches her eye a little. She does it through the performance and I think it's her nervous habit; it's so damn cute.
The music reaches its climax and Isla's whole body moves with her violin. The vibrations are inside of me. Inside of her.
The bar couples and college mates have stopped their loud chatter and turned to listen.
Music fills the room. It's not quite classical, but more dark and daring. But, when Isla's hand gestures slow down. Her head returns to it's original position and her eyes open. I know it's over. I loved every second.
Everyone in the bar claps loudly, but I clearly have the noisier applause. Even the conspicuous and sweaty barman drops his shaker to clap.
After the claps begin to subside (I'm still going strong), Isla takes a bow and jumps off the stage and strolls over to me.
"You came." She breaths heavily, as if I was ever going to miss this.
"Of course." I beam at her. "You were beautiful."
I can see her cheeks tinge slightly pinker than they were before.
"Did you get me a drink?" She asks, setting herself and her violin down on the chair opposite me.
I slide a cold soda can across the table and nod.
"Oh God. That was amazing!" I've never seen her so happy.
Oh no. The dimples are appearing. I tear my gaze away from her face and look down into my soda can.
"It was just so beautiful. I've missed it so much!" She gushes, only pausing to gulp down her soda.
"You were amazing. That was the best music I've ever heard." I shoot her with the 'I'm-honestly-serious' look.
"Well, it used to be better." Her smiles suddenly erases and I want to grab a pencil and draw it back on. "You know, before the crash."
"So what did you used to play before?" I ask, in an attempt to divert the topic.
"Mozart, mostly." Her smile returns and I sigh a sigh of relief. "But, if there's one thing I've gained from that car crash, I've felt more free. I compose my own music now."
Carefree and beautiful.
"So, that was your own piece?" Awe shines on my face.
She nods meekly. "Yup. Did you like it?"
"Did I like it? Hell yes. I loved it." I laugh.
She shines me a smile and the 'no-way' look.
"So, you actually composed that?"
All I gain from her is a slap on the shoulder and a laugh.
"Yes, silly."
The night is cut short when she suddenly starts gathering her stuff.
"I should go." Isla says, packing her violin into a case. "Markus is setting me some stupid curfew now." She rolls her eyes.
I try to hide my disappointment, but clearly it's been broadcasted on my face.
"Good night, Bradley." Isla says, straying away from me.
"Would you like me to walk you home?" I ask in a last-ditch attempt to spend more time with her.
"I'm a big girl, Bradley." She says, raising her eyebrows with a small smile.
And, just as I think it's over. She leans in and kisses my cheek. I smell her flowery scent. And she whispers something into my ear.
"Aren't you gonna say goodnight, nobody?"
But, when my reaction time kicks in, she's already out of the door, violin in hand and her hair illuminated in the moonlight.
YOU ARE READING
After the Crash ✓
Teen Fiction"It's day 10, Isla. I wish you would wake up. I've lost everything and you're the only person who understands." Bradley Monse used to have everything. He was the star basketball player. He dated the most popular girl. He had good grades and friends...
