Alister

  As the elevator descends, I fix my hair in the mirrors and hope the bandaids around the gem can prevent any blood from staining my white shirt.

  Unfortunately, trying to pick it out with a needle didn't work, and I just ended up injuring myself. It didn't even show up in the X-ray after going to the hospital.

  ...Just fantastic.

  I take a slow, deep breath, trying to ground myself and focus on my performance tonight. Forget everything that happened today.

  I step into the grand lobby. The polished floors, the walls lined with cheap artwork. The air smells faintly of fresh flowers, a different arrangement placed at the entrance every day, though I never pay enough attention to notice what kind.

  Outside, Parked right by the curb is their car-sleek. And beside it, she stands.

  The woman is dressed in a shimmering black gown. Her dark hair is styled into a low bun, and her deep red lips curve into a knowing smile the moment our eyes meet. Hiding behind her, is a nervous young girl, no older than ten or eleven. The pastel color of her dress contrasts sharply with her dark hair which is styled into two space buns.

  When Peter, the owner of 'The Diamond Room,' called me last week, asking me to play the piano on Monday night of all days. I was inclined to refuse, but accepted it later on, thinking it'll help me let off some steam from the studying. However, I made one thing very clear to him-I didn't want my family there.

  I don't slow my steps, though my jaw tightens slightly.

  "You look wonderful, son," she says smoothly, as she steps toward me. She reaches for me. "Come, why don't we all go together?" she coaxes, her tone laced with the same effortless charm and warmth she's used for years. "You won't be with us for long at the venue, and without Nora, I'll be all alone." She pouts slightly, tilting her head as if that would make a difference.

  "No," my respose is flat as I continue striding toward my own car parked a short distance away. Slipping into the driver's seat and shutting the door, cuts off whatever carefully crafted words she had prepared next.

  I was supposed to relax tonight. That was the whole point of accepting this performance.

  Peter apologized, claiming it was an accident, that he hadn't meant to let it slip-but I know better. He's a businessman first. He just wanted more guests, more attention, and more money.

  As I drive, the familiar city lights cast long shadows across my dashboard. My eyes drift upward to my face in the rearview mirror. Right over the spot where she punched me. And just like that, she's in my mind again, uninvited.

  The way she stepped out of my car, purposely shutting the door hard once again, knowing it would annoy me. She also forced me to change her car tires, threatening to do the same to mine if I don't. I couldn't even remember when she had stolen my knife for that moment.

  My grip on the steering wheel tightens. A slow, burning heat spreads through my chest, crawling up my throat like a wildfire.

  The bright lights of the club come into view, illuminating the building in the darkness among other structures on Midnight Avenue. The asymmetrical building has a sweeping archway entrance, and dark floor-to-ceiling windows.

  I approach the entrance, avoiding the line and heading for the big silver door thanks to my membership card.

  Inside, the golden lighting casts a warm glow over the space. The soft murmur of conversations blends with the enchanting sound of the saxophone, its smooth notes weaving through the air like silk.

  "Alister! Buddy! Over here!"

  God...can this day get any worse?

  I wince and turn towards the bar where Zach, wearing a moss green shirt and holding a pina colada, waves enthusiastically at me.

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  Ignoring him is useless as he calls me again. Begrudgingly, so he doesn't embarrass me further, I walk up to him.

  "Why are you here!? And stop calling me that. We are not friends." I say as soon as I'm in infront of him.

  "Of course we are!" He chuckles, patting my back, causing me to wobble a little. "And I came to watch your performance."

  "How'd you even know about that? I didn't tell anyone." I purposely didn't tell a soul.

  Zach shoves his hands in his pockets, tilting his head at a distance. "A little birdie mentioned something about a piano prodigy playing tonight at the Diamond Room."

  Looking at where he is pointing, I grit my teeth upon seeing her. Should have known this was her doing.

  Stephanie sits dressed in a red satin suit. Across from her, probably her date for tonight, is the most bland person I've ever seen. He's clearly trying his best to look casual.

  She catches my eye and flashes me a devilish grin as she raises her glass to me with a wink.

  Whatever. It's not like I'm already perfectly miserable.

  I spot Peter standing beside the stage, catching my eye. He gives me a quick wave and signals that I'm up next.

  "I wish I could invite Clara too. The more the merrier." Zach says as I sit beside him.

  "She and Steph would tear this place apart." I tilt my head towards laughing delinquent.

  He laughs. "You give them too little credit. Clara’s usually level-headed."

  "Really? Is that how she is to you?" I probe.

  Zach looks up, thinking for a moment. "Yeah, actually. What about you? How do you see her?" he asks, turning the question back on me.

  I see her as an annoying mosquito that needs to die.

  "She's..." I begin, but my voice trails off as my mind wanders to her, tied to that chair. Chin held high while she tried not to show any weakness.

  "Brave...resilient..."

  Her blue eyes staring at me with the same fire that had gotten under my skin so many times before.

  That look. Daring. Infuriating. Yet so...

  "Reckless!" I utter quickly, feeling my mind start to wander off to dangerous territories.

  "Reckless?" He questions as I bury my face in my hands.

  "Yeah...reckless," I say as I sigh, trying to force myself to calm down. I turn my attention to the crowd, pretending to focus on the buzz of conversations around us.

  I spot my parents find an empty table, their eyes fixed on the stage, and relief washes over them that they've made it in time. As the music reaches its end, the audience erupts into applause, cheering and whistling in appreciation.

  But then, my gaze lands on a figure, and time seems to suddenly move in slow motion, and silence is the only thing I can hear as every sound fades away.

  A woman, in her mid-30s, with striking white hair, styled in a sleek, icy bob. She stands amidst the crowd in a long black trench coat, staring at me with a cunning smile. Her eyes shine like red rubies under the light.

  I blink, and when I open my eyes again, she's vanished, as if she was never there.

  Why...what just...?

  My nerves are still shaky, and the pounding of my heart is the only sound I begin to hear. I scan the crowd again, wondering if I really saw what I think I saw. But there's no sign of her.

  Why? Why did I see her just now?

  "Alister!" Peter yells at my face, causing me to flinch. I look up to see him, frustrated.

  "I called you twice! It's your turn! Go up there!" He says and pushes me ahead.

  As I stumble towards the stage, my eyes look up to the grand piano being placed at the center. The bright light envelops as the spotlight shines down on me. I can feel the weight of the audience's gaze upon me, their eyes fixed with anticipation as the piano looms before me, waiting and inviting me to play.

  As I sit down on the bench, the white keys remind me of the white room. The trembling fingers remind me of tiny hands pulling on a shackle and chain fixed on the wall. How moment later, they were covered in blood.

  Then, for whatever reason, her words echo in my mind.

  You are a bright, smart, talented, good-looking young man with a future full of potential and who could do anything he puts his mind to.

  I take a deep breath, and my hands begin to move, as if guided by an unseen force.

  I play a piece that's intense and fast, a piece that's a true showstopper. My fingers blur as I tear through a lightning-fast rendition of Rachmaninoff's Prelude in G minor.

  The notes echo in the air, beautiful and terrifying. The audience is on the edge of their seats, their eyes wide with amazement as I race through the piece with a frenetic energy. The music seems to build and build. My mind feels clear, and I'm glad I came here today to take off the stress.

  As I reach the end, the music explodes in a burst of sound that's like fireworks detonating and then slowly fades away, leaving behind a stunned silence. Then the crowd is on its feet, cheering and whistling, including my parents, Steph and Zach.

  I see the awe and admiration in their eyes, the smiles on their faces, and the tears in their eyes. I know that I've touched their hearts and minds and that they've experienced the full range of emotions I aimed to evoke.

  As my gaze sweeps across the crowd, my eyes suddenly land on her again-the woman in the trench coat. My heart skips a beat as our eyes lock, and I feel goosebumps all over me.

  She's here. She's alive. How can that be!?

  The applause from the audience fades into the background as I wonder what she's doing. I can't look away from her and she doesn’t vanish this time.

  I feel like I'm losing control of myself again.