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My alarm clock buzzed in the morning, and I groggily sat up in bed. I was still exhausted. For a brief moment I thought that everything I'd experienced was just a dream, but I checked my phone to see that all the messages between Harry and I were real. Would I ever get over how surreal and amazing all of this was? Part of me thought I would eventually be cool with dating an international popstar, but another, bigger, part of me realized it would probably always feel this unreal. I rubbed my eyes before glancing around the messy room. My desk was in its usual state of organized chaos, with books piled in tall stacks on the sides, the tall wooden wardrobe's doors still stood hanging open. Articles of clothing and unapproved of outfits littered the floor.
I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, throwing back the bright blue comforter and stood up. I shuffled into the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. I still couldn't seem to wake up, so I splashed my face with cold water. Poking my head out of the bathroom, I glanced at the clock. It was already 7:33. I started rushing to get dressed. I pulled a pair of blue skinny jeans off the carpet and shimmied into them, and then removed a white and grey striped shirt from the wardrobe. I slipped into some red Vans and made my way to the kitchen. Starving, I grabbed a bowl and poured myself some Captain Crunch. While I ate, I surfed Instagram and kept tabs on the clock. After quickly finishing the bowl of cereal, I headed out to the car. The studio wasn't far from my home north of L.A. I arrived just in time to warm up on the piano before the dancers from the upper level courses began to show up.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen," Lydi, the head instructor of the Los Angeles Conservatory stated as she walked into the room to begin class. "Places, we are ready to begin rehearsal. Today we'll start of with the piece we worked on together last class," she added, looking over at me. I quickly reached into my music folder and pulled out the correct accompaniment music. I counted four beats in my head before beginning the music. I pounded away at the keys bringing life to the black dots on the paper before me. We stopped and restarted, rehearsing for hours until finally we took a break for lunch. I wasn't feeling very hungry, so instead of leaving for the café down the street as I usually would've, I stayed in the studio to practice my pieces more. As I was practicing I heard the large wooden door click open, and I heard someone enter, but that was not reason enough for me to stop playing. As Lydi has always said, 'being distracted by people around you is never an excuse.' I kept my eyes locked on the sheet music in front of me, my fingers picking at the keys in rhythm. When I finally arrived at the end of the piece, I was shocked to hear loud clapping echoing around the room, the sound bouncing off the stark white walls, tall mirrors, and vaulted ceiling.
"That was amazing," I heard a beautiful voice say. After a moment I looked around the piano, and I realized it was Harry, a big, cheeky grin on his face as always.
"What are you doing here?" I asked curiously. I could feel myself smiling like an idiot, amused that he'd come all the way here to see me. Harry walked over from the other side of the room and approached the piano.
"I wanted to surprise you," he replied nonchalantly, that warm smile never leaving his features. "I actually had a lot of help from Danielle and Eleanor to find this place." He added laughing.
"Well wish granted," I said with a giggle. "I'm definitely surprised to see you, Harry." I stared to stand up from the piano as he held his arms open for a hug. The embrace was short, but still warm and inviting as Harry pulled me into his arms.
"Forgive me for being an idiot, but what kind of dance do they teach in here?" Harry looked at me inquisitively as he released me from his embrace.
"Usually they teach Contemporary Ballet here," I replied offhandedly. I followed Harry's gaze around as he admired the high walls and big windows.
"So how did you become a pianist here?" He asked, glancing back at me as we both leaned against the edge of the piano. I thought about how I should answer that. It had been a rather long, difficult journey to get here.
"It's a rather long story," I replied quietly. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to tell him the whole thing. Dance had encompassed a huge part of my life since I was little, but not anymore.
"Well I love stories," Harry said, turning his head to lock eyes with me. I smiled slightly at his words. Harry had a way of making me feel butterflies inside in a way I'd never experienced them with anyone else, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't put my finger on what it was.
"It started when I was younger," I began. "I always loved dancing as a little girl, and my mom noticed it. She signed me up for ballet classes, and I ended up taking them until I was about fourteen, and from what people have told me, I was quite good. I wanted to take classes here so bad, that I auditioned as soon as I got the chance." I swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "One day, my dad had picked me up from my very first class here, and on the way home a drunk driver ran a red light and t-boned our car." I almost couldn't bring myself to continue. I could feel my throat growing tight as I recoiled from the hard memory. "I broke both of my legs in three different places, and I had deep gashes all over my body, but I was lucky to be alive. None of my doctors thought I'd walk again, much less dance. I was crushed. Everything I'd wanted was slipping away from me as I laid in the hospital. When my legs finally healed, and I was slowly able to walk again, I wanted to try dancing, but the Conservatory had already passed me up, and given my spot in the company to someone else." I looked over at Harry to see a concerned look on his face. "I wanted to be in this school so bad though," I continued. "I didn't get my first choice, but I decided I'd find a new dream, and that's when I discovered piano. I went and learned it religiously for a year or so before coming here and applying to be the accompanist." I finally finished speaking and a heavy silence fell over the room.
"That's tragic," Harry said, letting his voice trail off as he looked down at his feet. "I know this is kind of personal," Harry started, "but what happened to your dad?"
"He, uh," I spoke, my voice beginning to tremble, "He was killed instantly in the accident." I could feel hot tears spring to my eyes as I remembered the day that I found out when I'd woken up all battered and bruised in the hospital. I propped myself up off of the piano to wipe at my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Harry choked out; his usually smooth tone sounded raspy. He turned to me and hugged me hard, shoving me into him. I put my hands around his waist and closed my eyes, my head resting against his chest as I enjoyed the comfort of his presence.
**********
Rae was one of those people who was simply amazing. She was the definition of beauty, and I only grew more certain of that the more I knew. She was determined, strong, and committed to anything and everything she put her mind to. It was captivating. The more I found out about her, the more I wanted to know. I felt myself being drawn closer and closer to her with every story. It was beautiful; she was beautiful. She had these scars, both physical and metaphorical, and each one had a story. She was perfect because of her imperfections.
"I'm so sorry." I was barely able to breathe. I felt awful for asking her; clearly these were painful memories. I pulled her close to me again, not willing to let her go, as if hugging her forever could fix everything. It was irrational and it made no sense, but if I could keep her fragile heart from breaking any further, I would at least try. In that moment, I swear time stopped. It seemed like we were the only two people in the world; every other detail became a blur. I don't know how long we stood like that, just hugging, not making a sound. Reluctantly I pulled away from Rae for just a moment. Her wavy brown hair hung down over her shoulders. Gently, I pulled the hair back from the left side of her neck slowly revealing the long scar I'd seen the day before. I looked up at Rae's face, her blue eyes still filled with tears, as she looked down at the damaged skin on her collarbone. She looked up at me as if to give me permission, and watched as I bent my head down to plant soft, delicate kisses all over the skin. Nothing was ever so perfect to me as Rae in that moment. I found myself getting slightly carried away as I let my kisses trail their way up her neck, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to show her how perfect she was in my eyes. My lips finally came to rest in front of hers, brushing them ever so slightly. "If I learned anything from your story, it's to never give up on your dreams," I whispered to her softly, "So, Rae Dawson, I'm never giving up on you."
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