Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
NERVES
Ella
Outside the theatre’s heavy blue velvet curtain, the audience babbled, chirpy tones and laughter floating through to the staging area.
Holy crap.
I waited with my group for our turn to go on, my stomach a mess of nerves, and my bow clenched so hard in my fist the wood was bending.
“Fucking hell, Ella. You’re a wreck.” Donovan stood in front of me, smart in a black suit, but his lips in his permanent sneer. “I swear to God, if you fuck this up for us all by being so precious…”
I glanced up at him then swallowed. “You’ll what? Throw a fit on-stage? Leave me alone, Donovan. I can’t help my nerves.”
“Make me,” he replied, his eyes gleaming.
Ugh.
“Ella, maybe we can try deep breathing,” Ivor cut in, taking a position at my elbow.
In the past month, he’d thawed towards me, hopefully due to my work rate.
I might never be the consummate performer, but he’d heard a couple of my own pieces—and seen my Melody Fitzroy profile on MusicLinkt—and he’d been impressed.
“Okay.” I blinked at him and copied his breaths, mine not as dramatic as his—Ivor adored being on stage, and everything was a performance.
“Doing great, hun!” Topaz cheered me on from the side, her long white dress a contrast to her new punky hairstyle.
My nerves receded a tiny bit. At least I had two friends here, plus the three in the audience. Taylor, Wasp, and Ally had sent encouraging messages from their seats.
My brother and Beth hadn’t managed the trip, Beth’s pregnancy keeping them at home. There was only a month to go before my niece or nephew was due. I’d be home after the weekend and, if the baby was born in my winter break, I’d get to spend time with them and help out.
I couldn’t ease the anxious edge I carried, not only for tonight but for the impending birth of the baby, too. At least this was the last performance I had to do for a while. Thank the gods of Christmas for that.
I kept my gaze on Ivor and breathed out.
“You’re up.” A cheerful group trooped down the corridor and passed us, a spring in their step now their piece was done.
Which could only mean one thing—it was time to play.
We entered the stage and took our places.
Staring blindly, I bowed to the tutors, my short white dress flowing and my hair dyed back to black, and set up.
My group looked the part, at least, with the men in tuxes and Topaz and me in white, but I could hardly see past my shaking hands to appreciate the effect.
Ivor had chosen Mozart’s Eine Kleine—a lovely piece and easy to adapt to our quartet, but basically elevator music. Too familiar, not challenging, and a bore-fest for the crowd.
Oh God, the crowd.
My pulse whooshed in my ears.
For unknown reasons, Gordain’s face popped into my mind. Who was I kidding? It did about half a hundred times a day. I pictured him out there and focused on that and only that.
Okay. Better.
I breathed through my nose.
We started the music.
The weird thing was, as the short piece progressed, I thought I actually did see Gordain. But a version without the shorn hair. So alike, but it couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t come here, I was certain.
The lookalike shadow leaned against the aisle wall in between two raised sets of seats, straight ahead of my right-hand stage position. They watched me, whoever they were, modelling Gordain’s broad shoulders and single-minded concentration.
Their focus didn’t shift from me, and the rest of the crowd dimmed as I concentrated on keeping the shadow in view.
I played for that individual alone.
It being a short piece, we finished it neatly. Overall, it hadn’t been a horrendous performance. Polite applause rippled around, then my name was yelled from the back of the theatre. Ally. I’d recognise his holler anywhere. I spotted him and gave a thankful smile to my friends.
When I looked back to find my shadow, he’d gone.
We made our final bow to the row of professors then left the stage, returning to the waiting room. I packed away Suki and my bow with a sense of utter relief spreading through me.
“We did it! And I didn’t die,” I said with a grin to my group.
Ivor sniffed. “It was passable, and that was the most we could hope for. Well done, team.”
“Well done?” Donovan stalked over. “It was shit and you know it. You,” he poked a finger in my direction, “can do better. Next time, keep your focus on the piece and not on your buddies.”
My cheeks warmed. In private, or in a recording booth, I was better, that was true, but overall, I thought I’d done well. I hadn’t fallen to pieces, thanks to the shadow. “I wasn’t that bad. And my attention was exactly where it needed to be.”
Donovan gave me a look, one that was becoming familiar. A judging, almost provocative gaze, as if he wanted a fight but didn’t want me to think I was worth it.
Well, that was easy to handle. I pivoted on my heel and strode away.
Taylor had given me insight into Donovan’s shitty attitude. She said there was a type of flirting where the man tried to dominate the woman by putting her down. Giving her negatives all the time so she’d lap up the occasional positive and become grateful for his attention. Putty in his hands.
I might be na?ve when it came to men, but I was learning fast. I could spot emotional manipulation and I wasn’t having any of Donovan’s.
I paused at the door. “Ivor, Tope, I’ve got friends in the audience. We’re going to a club. Want to come?”
“Party!” Topaz cheered. “I’m in.”
“Maybe for just one drink.” Ivor wrinkled his nose. “As long as we drop our instruments off on the way.”
I agreed, and we left, leaving Donovan to stew in his own juices. He didn’t ask to come, and fuck was I inviting him.
Now term was over, I hoped to never have to work with him again.
Perhaps inevitably, Wasp and Taylor disappeared almost as soon as we got inside the noisy club.
At my dorm earlier, where she’d arrived in good time to give me moral support, Tay had prewarned me she planned to talk to Wasp.
And by talking, I assumed she meant kissing.
We’d had a good couple of hours catching up, and she was here for the whole rest of the weekend, so I didn’t mind. Tonight was about having fun.
After a round of drinks, Ally and I took to the dance floor and shook our stuff, leaving Topaz and Ivor debating grades.
I’d had a glass of wine.
It was the end of term.
I hated university so much the relief of it being over for a month had me flying high.
Most of all, being among real friends, even if two had scarpered, gave me a sense of safety I hadn’t had in a long time. In the middle of the hot and sweaty dance floor, I threw my arms around Ally’s neck and hugged him, hard.
He let me cling onto him like a limpet and, God help me, I wished he was his brother. I’d have given anything for a hug from Gordain now.
“You okay?” Ally pulled back and mouthed against the pounding music.
I just stared, and he gestured with his head to a seating area on the far side of the floor.
“Emotional moment,” I replied, as soon as it was possible for him to hear.
Ally sat on a bench and pulled me down next to him. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” But it wasn’t true. In the midst of friends, one person’s absence hit so hard it hurt. I couldn’t explain that so I distracted us both.
“You’re getting a lot of attention.” I poked him in the chest then gestured to the women and men who couldn’t keep their gaze off him.
Ally had grown beautiful in the past few months. His loose, sleeveless t-shirt revealed carved biceps and forearms. The angles of his face had sharpened since last summer. His dark-blond hair fell into his eyes, and his wide, laughing mouth looked ready to charm at any second.
He wasn’t even eighteen for a few more months, yet the doormen had ushered him past without an ID check.
He’d been handsome when I’d first met him. He was going to be devastating as a man. Not quite at Gordain’s level. Not for me anyway. But that didn’t stop heads turning as people passed our alcove.
“And you’re cramping my style.” He swept his hair back, his smirk telling me he was only half joking.
“Got your eye on someone?” I watched the sea of faces, the undulating bodies on the dance floor. People writhing against one another. Simulating sex in a crowded room.
“We’ll see how it goes,” he said with an easy shrug. “What about you?”
I blinked at him. “Me? Pick up a stranger?”
“I meant are you seeing anyone?”
I pulled at my dress. The fine material clung to me from the club’s humid air. “You know I’m not. Taylor tells Wasp everything, he tells you, so don’t tell me you don’t know.”
“You’re still hung up on my brother?” Ally’s gaze gentled. “Your relationship is the only secret I’ve ever kept from my twin. He probably knows, if you told Taylor, but we’ve never discussed it.”
“What relationship?” I laughed to hide my dismay, because I wanted that word to be true. For there to have been more between us than one evening of kisses and scorching chemistry. And at the same time, I didn’t.
I still hadn’t found my wings.
I still hadn’t lived.
Had I?
“Maybe I should take someone home tonight,” I added, bitterness in my tone.
Ally slung his arm over my shoulder and sighed, resting his head against mine. He didn’t reply. Perhaps we both knew how little chance there was of me even kissing a stranger, let alone anything more.
I had no interest, not for any one of the milling faces.
“Go fish.” I clambered to my feet, my calf muscles aching from my heels. “I’m going to find Ivor and Topaz. Talk shop for a while.”
Ally dropped a gentle kiss on my hair, but his attention was across the room, and he peered as if spotting his next conquest. “Maybe someone better will find you first.”
“What if there isn’t anyone better?” I replied, half to myself.
But Ally was gone.
I left the seating area and wound my way through the throng to the opposite side of the dance floor.
There, I entered a corridor. I’d been seeking the bathroom but, the farther the passage curved around, the more obvious it was that I was in the wrong place.
At the end, a sign on a door read Manager’s Office.
Definitely wrong. I turned to head back to the bar, and almost walked right into a hard body.
“Sorry!” I squeaked automatically, raising my hands.
Then I saw who it was.
Donovan stood in front of me. Apart from us, the corridor was empty, and we were out of sight from the main area of the club.
“Here you are, princess. I’ve been looking for you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Why?”
“Unfinished business.”
He’d followed me here? I recoiled and side-stepped.
He copied my movement, blocking my path. “Next term, I’m asking for you to be removed from my group.”
“Suits me,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.
“What? Didn’t you hear? I want you gone.”
Instead of answering, I just glared, discomfort unfurling in my stomach.
Donovan tilted his head, sizing me up. “Like that, is it?”
My temper rose, fast and hot. If he’d followed me here to mess with me, I wasn’t playing.
My instincts were right, and this guy was a creep.
He’d been an asshole to work with, and I wasn’t having it.
“I’d rather not work with you again anyway.
You bring us all down and you’re rude to everyone.
I was going to ask Professor Maran to split up the group. ”
Donovan sucked in a breath. “You think you can do what you want. Must be nice to have rich parents to buy your degree. What are you even doing on this course? Why not just have Daddy the earl throw handfuls of cash as you play your mediocre pop music? Save the rest of us the hassle of dealing with you.”
I gaped, his words so gratingly unfair they left me momentarily speechless.
A big mistake.
Donovan snapped out a hand and pressed it on the wall behind me. Then he boxed me in with his second hand the other side of my head.
His eyes darkened, and he leaned forwards.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I uttered. Alarms roared in my mind.
“Why are you fighting it?” Donovan asked.
“What?”
“You want me,” he stated, far too close.
My breath came out as a tiny, surprised puff. “Are you joking?”
“You play with me. You seek me out almost every day—”
“Because we share nearly every class!”
“—then you told Ivor not to listen to me. What am I supposed to think about your teasing? It’s all been a game. You did this. You wound me up, and now here I am.” He gestured down his body.
I didn’t follow the motion. “Donovan, get off me.”
“Princess, put your hand down and feel—”
“I said get off me!” I yelled.
Donovan’s face contorted, his gaze dropping to my lips.
I held my breath for a second, terrified that he was going to try to kiss me. Readying to jam my knee between his knees. Or poke his eyes out with my fingers.
But then, Donovan was gone.
Snatched by the scruff of his neck and forced to the floor.
Gordain stood over him, a terrible expression twisting his features. His fist smashed down on Donovan’s face.