Page 43 of Crescendo

Ella

I winced as Eliza hit another bum note—F without the sharp. She never made mistakes like this, especially not in front of an audience. Even Bansi cringed from where he sat beside me and he was so sweet he’d usually tell you your playing was beautiful even if all you played were bum notes.

It was more the way Eliza held herself, the way her usual composed, technically perfect self looked so stiff she might break. She looked like I felt the first time Lydia had me sitting at our upright, playing notes on a real piano again. My heart broke for her.

In our morning lectures, she’d sat alone, in the back corner. Hannah had looked miserable. I didn’t need to ask to know Eliza was still avoiding her. From what Lydia and I had heard, the only time they’d spoken was a yelled row and a slammed front door.

At least Hannah wasn’t in this practice group. I knew Eliza wouldn’t want her seeing this—she didn’t want anyone seeing this.

It was probably a good job Lydia wasn’t in this group either, actually. Lydia wouldn’t be cruel about it, but Eliza would hate for Lydia to see her falling apart.

Her fingers slammed down into another chord. E Major. The piece was in E Minor.

I watched the exact moment her resolve broke and tears filled her eyes. She shot up out of her seat, body ramrod straight.

“Excuse me,” she barked before fleeing from the room.

The instructor stared after her with wild eyes. She didn’t know how to handle Eliza breaking anymore than the rest of us did.

“I’ll be right back,” I muttered to Bansi as I patted his arm and got out of my seat.

The instructor’s eyes flitted to me and I watched her try to school her expression.

“I’ll go make sure she’s okay,” I assured her.

She nodded and turned back to the rest of the group—people either staring or resolutely looking away.

They’d be fine. Someone else would start playing and everyone would move on.

Maybe they wouldn’t forget, but I needed to believe they did. Eliza wasn’t the first one to break down in this room in front of an audience.

It wasn’t difficult to hear the lounge door slam open when I got out of the soundproofed room. That was where she’d headed. Easier than if she’d fled the building.

I paused briefly at the vending machines before following in after her.

She twisted violently to glare at me, betrayed by the idea of anyone coming after her, seeing her like this.

“I brought tea,” I said softly, approaching and holding one cup out to her.

“Vending machine crap?” Her voice was so brittle and angry—so hurt.

I shot her a look, still holding out the paper cup. “I work in a hospital, this is practically gourmet.”

She narrowed her red-rimmed eyes. “You need better taste.”

I almost laughed, wondering whether she meant in women, too. We both knew I wouldn’t agree—we both knew she didn’t really think liking Lydia meant you had bad taste—but this was the game she played and she needed me to keep up with that right now.

“Maybe,” I said. “But it’s hot enough to scald at least.”

She frowned, finally taking the cup. “Your suggestion is to drink it so hot you can’t taste it?”

“Not really a suggestion, more a statement of… possibility.”

She looked away, nursing the cup in a way that suggested she needed it more than she was willing to let on. “What do you want, Ella?”

I knew this. I could handle this. It wasn’t the first time I’d been the closest target for people to throw their anger at.

I didn’t mind it. Of course, people threw a lot of cruel, unnecessary shit at medical staff sometimes, but, in my line of work, they just needed a safe place to channel their fear.

And, unfortunately, some people had been taught that anger was easier than fear—especially when faced with a radiologist giving them news they’d hoped to never hear.

It was understandable. And it felt familiar.

I could be a target for Eliza’s anger and I wouldn’t hold it against her later. It was something I could do.

“Are you okay?” I asked, prepared for any answer she was willing to give.

She scoffed. “What do you think? Half of our class just watched me fail. A pathetic piece children should be able to play and I couldn’t do it. Isn’t that funny? Snobby, mean Eliza finally getting her comeuppance. Ha bloody ha. I hope you all enjoyed the show.”

“Nobody is thinking that about you.”

She whirled again to stare at me and I’d never seen her look so frazzled.

Tears streaming down her cheeks and destroying her usually pristine makeup.

“Of course they are. Everyone’s been waiting and hoping for this.

” She laughed bitterly. “I hadn’t expected Hannah to be one of them, but here we are.

She’s fallen in line with your perfect little Lydia, so I’m sure you can all get together later and laugh at me. ”

“We’re not going to do that,” I assured her quietly.

“Why not? Why not? ” She flung her empty hand out, looking for all the world as if she were inviting the universe to smite her.

“All those comments about how I was going to beat Lydia and she wasn’t all that.

What a fucking joke. Turns out everyone likes her better and I wasn’t even good enough to be in competition with her.

We finally have an opportunity for me to achieve my dream and she’s too good to even be considered.

I’m in competition with some fucking random who’s never played music before. ”

She froze, seeming to realise what she’d just said. Whatever part of her it was that seemed… protective of me rose up and she crumpled at having just insulted me.

I smiled gently at her. “If it makes you feel better, I grew up with music. This whole thing has been me… coming back to it, rather than learning it for the first time.”

She sniffed sharply, swiping at her face in a way she clearly hoped I wouldn’t notice—impossible though that hope was. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly.

I shook my head. “You don’t have to be. I’m not that fragile.”

Her face flashed with something akin to panic. “She’s going to hurt you, you know?”

I frowned. “Lydia?”

“Yes, of course Lydia. You two could have been friends, but she’s going to destroy you and it’s going to ruin everything you’ve got. Your little friendship group? It’s all going to fall apart. All because she couldn’t take my advice on one thing and leave you the fuck alone.”

Her natural accent came out a little more when she was worked up and swearing. It didn’t seem as strong as Hannah’s, but that was what happened when you spent so much time trying to develop a new one, I supposed.

“I’m a grown woman, Eliza. She didn’t force me into anything. I wanted her just as much.” This was a dangerous topic of conversation with Eliza at any time but especially when she was already so hurt. Still, she looked at me with a level gaze.

“You don’t know what it’s like, what it’s going to feel like…” There was something so small about her suddenly. It helped the pieces slot into place a little more.

“Is that what happened with you and Hannah?”

Her eyes flashed, her mouth tightening, but she took a steady breath and shrugged. “Not exactly.”

I watched her sip the tea and she reminded me so much of versions of myself that I’d been in the past. So trapped, in so much pain, and feeling like there was nowhere to turn, nobody who could help or even care.

“You obviously don’t have to,” I said, moving to sit in one of the armchairs, “but, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“What, so you can run back to Lydia with even more of my tragic life?”

“No. If you want to keep it between us, that’s what I’ll do. Doctor’s promise.”

She barked a sharp, single laugh. “As if I’m some—”

“No. As if you’re someone who could use a friend and a safe place to talk. Just like we all could.”

More tears streamed down her face, but she held my gaze. “She doesn’t deserve you, you know?”

I smiled. “She’s a better person than you think. I’m aware you have your whole competition thing with her, but I wouldn’t be doing nearly as well as I am without her.”

“And, clearly, Hannah agrees, doesn’t she?” She huffed. “Running off with your girlfriend and fucking Dodge and playing all that rock stuff we used to do.”

“Hannah’s fucking Dodge?” I asked lightly, sipping my tea.

She scowled at me, but I could see the first hint of amusement underneath. “She’s a lesbian.”

“Ah, Dodge will be devastated, I’m sure.”

She pursed her lips, considering. “She’s not really… It’s not—she’s—whatever.”

The afternoon light streamed through the window in sharp lines, filtering through the buildings around Crescendo.

There was something oddly poetic about it as I watched Eliza struggle with whatever was bouncing around her brain, giving her space she sorely needed.

Whatever she was dealing with, it was too much for her to bear.

I could see it in the tense way she held her body, the way she looked through me.

She was all sharp lines and cold shadows, but there was something soft and light lurking under all of that.

“She told me to go on that date,” Eliza said eventually, so bitter. “She told me to go and she just used that chance to sneak off with Lydia. Why wouldn’t she even tell me? What did I do wrong?”

It was my experience that the latter question was most people’s question. Most hurt came from not knowing what you did wrong, from the desperate, human desire to have everything make sense and feel tidy, even though the world seldom made any sense at all.

“I think she was scared of hurting you,” I said.

“Ha, well, now she has.”

“She wasn’t trying to. She just needed a space to be herself in this whole thing, and Lydia asked her to jam with her and Dodge, and… she’s really good.”

Eliza looked at me with sad, betrayed eyes again. “Better than me? Is that what you’re telling me?”