by Daisy Allen
The stage lights dim to focus on the one spotlight lighting a perfect circle around Anca and her harp.
The noise from the audience slowly dies into nothing as she raises her arms.
She’s alone for the piece. Just her. Just her and harp.
But there’s not even that.
Ten, twenty, thirty seconds go by, and her fingers remain frozen over her unplucked harp.
Damn. No. I think, as I watch her from my corner on the stage. Even from here I can see her skin is paler than snow, her shoulders shaking.
Come on, Anca… come on, baby. Breathe. I will her.
But there’s nothing.
It’s over a minute now, close to two. The crowd is restless.
I gesture to Sebastian and he grabs the microphone, his face confused. Before he can say anything though, there’s a call from the crowd.
“Come on!!! What are you waiting for! You scared?”
There’s a rippling laugh from the crowd and more voices join the heckling.
I gesture wildly to Sebastian to just start playing. He yells into the microphone, “We ain’t scared a’ nothing!” And he pulls his bow across his cello and Brad joins in, the audience instantly comes alive, raising their arms into the air.
I run over to Anca, she’s still rooted to the spot her hands still unmoving.
“Anca! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I… I… I can’t…”
“It’s okay, just breathe.”
“No! I can’t! I just… I told you… I’m just not good enough!” With that, she stands up, steadying herself on her harp for moment as she sways and then runs off the stage.
“Anca!” I go to follow her but a figure stops me.
“Let me go, Jez, she needs me.”
“Let her go, we have a concert, Marius. You have to let her go.”
“To hell with that! She needs me, she needs YOU, can’t you see that?”
“Look! Look man, Hailey is right there with her!” He points to the wings, and I see Hailey with her arms around Anca. “We have work to do. You think I don’t want to go after her? She’s my baby sister man, but she made a choice, and so did we.”
“Fuck that, get out of my way.”
“When are you going to fucking listen to me! This is why it’s never going to work! Why I never wanted you fucking my sister in the first place”
This time, it’s my fist that cracks his jaw. Right there, right on stage. He stumbles back, drops his cello.
I brace myself for the return attack, but he just shakes his head.
The music keeps going as I feel someone drag me off stage, to the sound of Sebastian yelling into the microphone, “Damn, sometimes the music just works you up doesn’t it! Don’t worry, someone’s hosing our hot, sexy viola player down, I’m sure he’ll be back later. Get those panties ready, ladies!... and hey, if some of you sexy men wanna throw some up here, that’s fine too!”
“Let go of me!” I struggle out of the hold. It’s our bodyguard, Mike. “What the hell, man?!” I yell at him.
He puts a hand on my shoulder, it’s hot and firm and large. “Marius. Chill.” He says. And I know he’s right.
“Where is she?” I ask him.
“Hailey took her back to the hotel. I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Fuck.”
I stand in the wings, looking out at my bandmates, three figures on the stage, and wonder how it’s come to this. Them there, and me here.
And worse.
Me here, and her god knows where.
Chapter Thirty-one
Anca
I feel nothing.
I feel nothing, I hear nothing, I barely know where I am.
I’ve felt this before.
And I don’t know how I can be here again.
My body jerks and there’s some chatter and someone’s pulling gently on my arm.
“Come with me, hon,” someone says. I think it’s Hailey. “Come on, let’s get you up to your room.”
I know my body’s moving because the sights around me change, but I don’t know how it’s happening. I’m not telling my legs to move, or my body to pitch forward, but it is.
At least there’s that.
At least my body knows what it needs to do, even if I consciously don’t.
I guess that’s what’s keeping my lungs taking in air and my heart beating.
“Sit down, babe. Here, have a drink.”
She’s being so nice.
I ruin everything, all the hard work that all the band and crew do, and I can’t do the ONE thing I’m meant to.
Play the fucking harp.
She’s being so nice and I don’t deserve it.
Somehow that revelation breaks the dam, and I feel my eyes fill with tears.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”
“Hey, hey, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal! Things happen.”
“But… I shouldn’t… I have a problem, and I shouldn’t have gone on stage...”
She frowns, looking even more concerned than she did before. “You’ve had this happen before?”
“Yeah… but I thought I had it under control until the…” I throw my hands up, I don’t even know how to explain it.
“Until what?”
“Just… I guess … I didn’t have it as under control as I thought I did.” My eye catches the display of dahlias on the coffee table. My stomach sinks into the floor. “Wha… um, what is that?”
“Oh, I guess someone brought it in here for you, looks like some flowers from a fan.”
No. Not here, please not here. Not now.
“There’s a note, do you want me to get it?”
“No!... I mean, I have a headache, I don’t really feel like reading anything.”
“Of course, I’ll let you get some rest. Don’t worry about anything, okay? Just get some rest and when the rest of the guys come back, we’ll go grab something to eat.”
“Hailey?”
“Yeah, babe?”
“Thank you.”
“No problem, we’re family, right? Not just cos you’re Jez’s sister, or um, Marius’s girlfriend… or whatever. Just cos you’re you. We’re fam, babe.”
My eyes threaten to flood with tears from her words, so I just smile and she gives me a hug before turning off the light and closing the door quietly behind her.
The flowers loom, even in the dark and I avoid them as I change into a t-shirt.
My senses are starting to return, and now I long for the numbness again.
I can still hear the jeering from the crowd, the look of confusion and worry on Marius face. Jez’s disappointment.
I can still taste the acid in my mouth as I just sat there, frozen.
“I’m not good enough. I should’ve known that. He was right. I’m just not good enough.” The words envelop me in the dark as I lay down, my head sinking into the pillow. There’s comfort in being in this headspace. I know no one will expect anything of me, anymore.
Chapter Thirty-two
Marius
The concert ends as normal. I returned to the stage after a few songs, and just lost myself in the music.
One encore and we’re done, rushing off the stage.
“Where is she?” Jez asks as soon as we’re backstage.
“Mike said Hailey took her back to the hotel.”
He looks at me, then at the back entrance door and back at me. “Well, are you fucking coming or not?”
Chapter Thirty-three
Anca
The dreams are dark. They are too real and make me wake up in a sweat.
I check the clock.
It’s close to midnight. They’ll all be back soon.
I don’t know if I can’t wait to see them to apologize, or if I should just take this time to pack and leave, be out of their lives for good.
I can hear chatter from the street through the open window.
And then there’s a knock on my door.
I sho
uld’ve known he’d come for me.
He who?
You know who.
I slide out of bed and pad over barefoot to the door.
He knocks once more before I open it.
“Anca, there you are,” he says, smiling and holding out a dahlia to me. “I’ve missed you.”
And that’s the last thing I remember.
Chapter Thirty-four
Marius
We don’t say anything in the taxi back to the hotel. For some sick reason I can’t keep staring at the bruise spreading on his left cheek. Maybe because I’m wondering how it’s similar to mine, courtesy of his fist, and how it’s all come to this.
It’s a short drive and we jump out of the car as soon as it pulls up to the curb.
The elevator ride up the four floors feels interminable. We both jump from leg to leg, fidgety, like we’re starters in the 100 meter relay. The elevator bells dings and the door’s barely open before we push ourselves through the widening gap and run to Anca’s room down the hall.
It’s somewhat cartoonish, the way we come to a skidding stop outside her door and then glance at each other and then back at the door.
For a moment I consider pushing him away, but then it dawns, he has every right to be there that I do and I take a step back. The smallest flutter of confusion flashes across his face before he lifts his knuckles and raps on the door.
“Anca,” I say, once he’s done knocking. “Anca, it’s us. We just want to check to see how you are.”
We wait for a moment, listening for the sounds of her moving on the other side of the door. But there are none.
“Try again,” I say to Jez and he nods and knocks again, this time louder and for longer.
“Anca, it’s Jez. And Marius, just come so we can see you’re alright.”
But she doesn’t.
Because she isn’t.
Chapter Thirty-five
Anca
I open my eyes, and it’s just as dark as it was before I opened them.
But there’s something about your other senses becoming more sensitive, because, just from the scents I can smell, the sounds I can hear, I know exactly where I am.
It’s the last place I want to be right now with the very last person I want to be with.
I try to stand, but something stops me, my hands are free, but my legs are tied down, my waist in some sort of restraint.
I don’t struggle. I know there’s no point.
I’m at the complete mercy of him.
Of the Maestro.
As if on cue, his voice creeps out of the darkness and crawls into my ears. “Anca. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you.”
My hands instantly come up to cover the sides of my head. That voice. It’s so much worse than I remember. Even through the fogginess of my head right now, it cuts right through, like aural cyanide in my veins.
I feel my arms pulled away and held to my sides and his voice so much closer than it was before. “No, no. You need to hear me,” he rasps right by my ear, inside my brain. “You’ve been away from me so long, you’ve forgotten all the lessons I taught you.”
“You didn’t teach me anything.”
“Didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you… that you are not made to play in front of crowds… like a performing monkey? And what happened tonight?”
The thought that he was out there, witnessing my failure tonight makes my chest crumble. I can hardly breathe at the thought that everything he’s ever said about me has been true.
“Rubbish. Such rubbish you’re been playing. What a waste, what a waste of your talent, Anca!”
“What talent, you’re always telling me that people are only going to laugh at me!” I exclaim, throwing his own words back at him.
“Yes, Anca! Because they do not understand what true music is! And you... you go out there, pandering to their mediocrity. No, I had to come and remind you of what you’re really capable.”
He takes my hands in his and I struggle, trying to rip them away, his touch making every cell in my skin crawl, trying to shrink away from his clammy fingers.
He holds tight though, and pushes my hands forward, and I can feel smooth wood under my fingertips.
Oh. My harp. My old harp.
The years fade away, and I’m in his music studio all over again.
I run my fingers over the curve of the neck and the tears spring to my eyes. I lean forward and rest my head against it, its faint scent permeating my brain. Anyone who’s ever learned an instrument and loved their instrument know that it’s an extension of their self.
As much as it is a reminder of some of the darkest times in my life, the memories of all those hours I spent learning, creating, living and dying while playing this harp come rushing back.
“She missed you too, Anca. She missed your soul. It’s time to come back. Play, Anca, play. Play as you are meant to. Play as I taught you.”
Under the blindfold, I feel my eyes close and my fingers run down the length of the strings, muscle memory springing to life, the end of my fingertips twitching, aching to play.
“See? You’re not freezing right now, are you? It’s because here is where you’re meant to be, Anca. With me. Play.”
A few solo notes break the salty air as he plucks the strings.
“No!” I yell out, wrapping my arms around her, as far as they can reach. I don’t want him touching her, tainting her. “Get away from her!”
He knows what I mean, of course. He’s always known, hasn’t he? “Okay, Anca! Okay. I’m stepping away. But you can’t let a beauty like her to go to waste. Play. Here. Where you’re not afraid, not even of me.”
He’s right. I have no fear here. Why aren’t I afraid to play with him?
Because he trained you that way, Anca! Don’t listen to him. The voice tickles at the edge of my brain.
I shake my head. Leave me alone.
No. This time the voice is Marius. I’m not leaving you, Anca. In the darkness I can see him, his eyes, his hands reaching out to me. Don’t listen to him, Anca. You are a star. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with, whatever you play. Remember the joy. Remember the fun. Remember the cheers, the love. For you.
Go away, Marius. Please. Just leave me here. I’m not good enough for you, for anyone, I beg him, but he just stands there, smiling, holding his hand out to me.
Why won’t he just go?
“Anca. Play!” The Maestro’s voice cuts through the fog in my head.
No. Tell him no. Do it, Anca…you can do it. It’s my voice now, not Marius, but mine. Mine. Telling me I can do this.
“N-n-no.” I stammer, fighting for every syllable.
“What did you say?” The Maestro’s voice booms in the dark.
“I sa-, I said, no. No!”
“I’ve asked so nicely, though, Anca… but it won’t always be this way. My patience has limits.” His voice, once so cajoling is suddenly hard, and then I feel it. The point. The cold, hard point of steel right there against the back of my neck.
No, no, not now. Not now that I’ve finally regained my sense of self. I can’t go this way.
But I know how crazy he can be, he had to be, to even get me here in the first place. Who knows what he’s capable of now… now that he’s heard me say no.
But I’d rather be dead than under his control for another moment longer.
“Maestro…”
“Yes, my dear, are you ready?” He asks, twisting his wrist, pressing the point deeper against my neck.
I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. “I’m… ready… I just have one request.”
“Anything for you, my angel. Anything for you.”
And I take one long breath, as if it will be my last.
Chapter Thirty-six
Marius
She’s not there, in her room.
She’s nowhere to be found.
We’ve spent the last hour scouring the hotel, inside and out, and the venue and everywhere in betwe
en.
“Tell us again, Hailey!” I beg our PR manager, searching her words for any detail I might have missed the last 15 times she’s repeated her steps.
“Guys – I wish I could tell you something that might help, I’m just as worried as you guys are.”
“And you’re sure she was okay? When you left her?”
“Well, she wasn’t happy and laughing, but she wasn’t sobbing or anything, I wouldn’t have left her if she had been. Jez? You know I wouldn’t have left her alone in that state, right?”
Jez gives Hailey’s shoulder a squeeze, “I know. I know…”
“So where could she have gone? And why won’t she answer her fucking phone?”
“Are we even sure she took it? I mean, maybe it’s somewhere around the room.” I get up, turning the couch cushion over, finding nothing but loose change and dust. “Goddamn it!” I curse, throwing the cushion against the coffee table. There’s a loud crash as it knocks over the flower vase, scattering glass, water and flowers all over the floor.
“Fuck it all to hell,” I growl, falling to my knees to collect the shards in my hand.
“Hey, be careful. Just... just leave it, man. Someone will take care of it, can’t be damaging your hand.” Jez says, his voice tired, tired from worrying.
“Really? You think I care about my hand at a time like this?”
He narrows his eyes and looks like he has a sharp retort, but not before something on the floor catches his eye.
“Marius… did you send Anca the dahlias?”
“Um, no, she doesn’t like them. They remind her of…”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, who sent these?”
Hailey looks up from her phone. “They were downstairs when we checked in, reception said a fan had left them for her. There’s a card.”
Jez glances at me, his eyes wide. “Marius – grab the card.”
I forget that I’m too mad to take orders from him for the moment and reach for the soaked card lying amongst the vase debris.
