Chapter Text
Sebastian tugged on the collar of his dress shirt, trying to relieve the incessant scratching against his neck. Although he had been forced to wear these stuffy suits his whole life, he had never felt comfortable in them and probably never would.
Squinting through the stage lights, he could see three figures sitting in the front row of the otherwise empty auditorium, a table set up before them. Their noses were buried in his portfolio, even after what felt like hours of browsing through it. Although this was an annoying step of the process, a part of him was a little grateful. Undetected by their critical eye, he let out a quiet breath, allowing himself to ease up slightly while they were distracted.
On the music stand in front of him was his own personal folder, filled with pieces he picked out that were sure to make a good impression.
If the adjudicators even permitted him to play today, that was.
Sebastian shook his head, admonishing himself for letting his train of thought get there.
At that point of his life, he had spent countless days under the tutelage of his father and prestigious music programs. This orchestra was more than likely to accept him with open arms. And with a skillset like his, he could even imagine being offered first chair.
But Sebastian reminded himself not to think too far ahead.
He needed to get through this preliminary audition first.
Then it was onto the next round.
And the next.
So it was imperative that he remained focused.
With a deep inhale, he glanced over at the panel of adjudicators, who were nodding along as they read, clearly pleased with what they saw. Finally, the three of them turned to each other, deliberating amongst themselves for a moment. Then, the woman sitting in the middle cleared her throat, prompting Sebastian to stand tall, hands tucked behind his back.
“You have a very extensive record.” She told him, readjusting her glasses as she thumbed through the file. “And I see you’ve managed to make quite the connections.” She pulled out a fairly hefty stack of testimonial letters, holding them up for Sebastian to see. “Who were these written by?”
“All the conductors I’ve had the pleasure of working with.” He responded, almost emotionless. “All the mentors that took me under their wing at the conservatory.”
“Can you tell me a little more about your time there?”
“It’s where I truly learned the discipline and class that it takes to be a musician.” He told her, reciting the same spiel he always did whenever that question was asked. “And in return, my teachers were constantly impressed by my talents. Even when I first auditioned, I received the highest score among all the candidates.”
He shuddered to think what could have happened if he placed any lower that day. Surely even coming in second would have earned his Father’s ire. He could feel a phantom pain stinging his wrist just imagining it. But luckily, he was able to mask that unpleasant feeling in front of the adjudicators.
“I see.” The woman jotted down a few notes on a small pad of paper before looking up at the stage again. “And you have experience in both solo and ensemble pieces, correct?”
“Yes.” He stated, not entirely sure why she would ask when it was plainly written on the papers he had given them. Still, he obliged her with an answer. “The programs I enrolled in allowed me to collaborate with many different groups. I also played for private performances organized by my father.”
Hearing the last word, she immediately returned to her notepad, the scratchy sound of her pen echoing through the empty theatre. Then, she looked back up to Sebastian. “We would like to hear what you have prepared for us today.”
Sebastian nodded, reaching for the violin case next to him.
“But before we proceed,” The adjudicator held a thin finger up in the air, the small gesture enough to keep the musician from moving another muscle. “I do have one more question for you, Mr. Shvagenbagen. If you don’t mind.”
With his hand still hovering over the violin case, Sebastian paused, mentally steeling himself for that unforeseen request. Then, he pulled away.
“Of course not.” He straightened his spine, folding his hands in front of him. “Please, ask what you must.”
She paused, eyeing the young man before continuing.
“Countless musicians come to us in hopes of performing at our level, but only the best are allowed to audition, let alone actually join.” She explained slowly, “The way we see it, there’s one thing that makes the difference between a good musician and the best. So I would like to know…” She tilted her head down, pushing her glasses up along the bridge of her nose to look Sebastian straight in the eyes. “What would this opportunity mean to you?”
“It would mean a tremendous deal.” He replied robotically. “My family would be very-”
“Well, yes, we’re very aware of your family, Mr. Shvagenbagen. It’s no secret that they take great interest in this field,” She replied, an unexpected edge in her tone. “But what does this opportunity mean to you? What does any of this mean to Sebastian?”
The musician stared at the woman, completely paralyzed. It was the last thing he expected to hear, the only situation he didn’t have scripted in his mind.
“To me?” He uttered out, hating how small and pathetic sounded at that moment. Trying to redirect himself, he cleared his throat. “Well, it would mean- I would be-” Sebastian stammered, suddenly unable to articulate himself at all. His eyes darted back and forth between the three adjudicators, who began to whisper among themselves.
His face was growing unbearably hot, and his chest felt heavy, as if a weight was pressing down on him and making it difficult to breathe.
It was a simple question, perhaps one of the easiest questions he had been asked in his career so far. Why couldn’t he find the words to answer it?
“It means that I-I-” He tried again, but only incoherent babble came out.
Shame permeated every fiber of his being. There was the familiar burning sensation on his wrist again, growing more and more intense the longer the question remained unanswered. He clutched his arm, squeezing it as if that would make the pain in his mind go away.
“Mr. Shvagenbagen?”
Sebastian’s head shot up at the sound of his name, and seeing the looks of pure shock - perhaps even horror- on the adjudicators’ faces, he felt the overwhelming urge to run.
“Excuse me…” He uttered, voice barely audible in that large theatre. Swiping his music folder and violin case, he darted away, headed towards the wings of the stage.
“Mr. Shvagenbagen?” The woman rose from her seat. “What are you- where are you going?”
“I just remembered that I needed to… to repay the meter.” He called out over his shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly!”
He could hear the adjudicators mumbling to themselves about having no meters to pay, but he kept moving. The whole auditorium was closing in on him, and he couldn’t bear another moment stuck in it.
Bursting through the emergency exit, he gasped for air as if surfacing from a pool of water. He frantically looked around, making sense of his surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the sun. Once he had a good sense of where he was, he sped away from the theater, following the sidewalk further into the city.
Without stopping, he undid his tie and the top buttons of his shirt, loosening them up in an attempt to breathe easier. He paid no mind to the people walking by, focusing solely on moving forward with no destination in mind.
It wasn’t until he could feel his feet getting sore in their pinchy leather shoes that he realized just how far he had strayed.
Sebastian halted in the middle of the sidewalk, his music folder held close against his chest. After a moment’s hesitation, he peeked behind him, scanning the buildings in the horizon.
He couldn’t even see the theatre from where he was standing.
But did he even want to?
It was so humiliating to even think about.
Surely, word would get around about this incident. The woman was probably making all sorts of calls as he was standing there on the sidewalk. Would he get turned down at any audition he showed up at from this day on? Was this the end of his career right as it was about to truly begin?
In a single day, almost two decades of father’s hard work shaping him into the perfect musician went down the drain.
At that moment, he was grateful that he had travelled far from home for this audition. That way, he didn’t have to return to his Father’s harsh reprimands. At least, not for another two days. His lonely hotel room sounded like a much better place to wallow.
Hearing motorcycles revving their engines in the near distance, Sebastian tensed up, unsure of what would happen if he got mixed up in that rabble. Without another thought, he ducked into the nearest alleyway, leaning against the building wall. Completely alone, he let out a loud groan as he slammed his violin case down on the ground next to him.
“What are you doing?” The musician shrieked at himself. With his music folder in one hand, he clutched a fistful of hair using the other, inadvertently messing up his perfectly slicked back locks. “This is good, Sebastian! This is what you’ve been working toward! What you’ve wanted for so long.” He began to pace around the alleyway, wagging his finger around as if giving a lecture. “Just imagine when you do make it! Father will be proud. Yes! Father will be very proud when you tell him you were accepted! All you need to do is go back and-”
The sound of motorcycles ricocheted through the alley again, enough to startle Sebastian right out of his ramblings. Jolting in shock, he dropped his folder, its contents spilling out all around him.
“No, no, no!” He frantically swung his arms around to catch his sheet music, but they had already hit the ground, further scattered around by the breeze. The disappointment pounding in his chest had quickly turned into pure anger. Reaching a boiling point, he let out an unhinged wail, flailing his clenched fists and stomping around as if were some insubordinate teenager.
Realizing how undignified the sight was, he took pause, inhaling deeply through his nose. In an effort to better compose himself, he used both hands to smooth his hair down again. When his tussled locks kept popping back up, he sighed and resigned himself to deal with the mess he made.
Grumbling, he bent down to gather his sheet music. It must have looked ridiculous- a young man in a suit crawling around a dingy alley like a rat scavenging for food.
He never should have left that audition.
Once he had his music folder back in order, he was going right back. Hopefully, they would give him a chance to finish his preliminary.
Clutching the folder close to his chest, he followed the trail of sheet music towards the sidewalk, snatching them until he had reached the final stack at the edge of the alleyway. Getting down on one knee, he reached over to pick them up but stopped once he heard tires screeching to a stop ahead of him. Curious, he glanced at the source, freezing in place once he caught a glimpse of her.
She was built like no other woman he had ever seen, especially not any of the ones he had met at his concertos or at Father’s dinner parties. Her all black biker gear was so flattering to her burly yet curvaceous form. And Sebastian couldn’t quite tell what it was from that distance, but there was a tattoo in black ink etched on her upper arm, further accentuating her toned muscles.
A long majestic braid trailed behind her back, swinging back and forth as she grabbed onto her helmet with both hands. In one fluid motion, she pulled it off, whipping her head back to catch the breeze. She looked so wild, so free.
Sebastian couldn’t help but stare.
The fiery red locks framing her face moved elegantly in the wind. Freckles decorated her sunkissed cheeks. Her emerald green eyes shined brighter than any jewel at his Father’s estate.
She was mesmerizing.
Going up to a food stand embedded in the building, the Mystery Biker bought herself a can of beer, finishing it up in one gulp before crushing it against her head.
Sebastian’s jaw dropped. He had never seen someone display such strength, such raw confidence in his lifetime.
She was like the goddess Cybele, sprung to life from the mythology books of his school days.
As he continued to stare in utter awe, a few bikers had raced by, the sheet music at his fingertips blowing away with the passing wind. Before Sebastian could even process it, the papers were flying through the air, headed straight towards the Mystery Biker until they had smacked her right in the face.
Completely taken by surprise, she stumbled back a little, causing her to lose the grip on her keys. Sebastian grimaced as they slipped right out of her hands and into the drain grate below.
Peeling the sheet music off her face, the Biker crumpled them with one hand, tossing them away before frantically searching for her keys on the ground.
Once she realized where they had landed, she immediately grabbed at the drain grate in desperation but to no avail. She let out a scream- no, a war cry- as she threw her helmet to the ground in frustration.
Sebastian watched as she ripped out a piece of the bike with her bare hands before yanking out a tangle of colorful wires. He frowned at the sight, a heavy sense of dread building in his chest.
It was his fault she lost those keys in the first place.
He just didn’t feel right leaving her to deal with such a situation by herself.
Maybe he could contact someone from the city to open up the grate and retrieve the keys? He could definitely afford to have that arranged. No, that would take too long. Plus, Father would notice the hefty hole in his funds allotted for this trip.
The only other option was to go fetch them himself. But, even though his fingers seemed more nimble and wiry than this Mystery Biker’s, there was no way he could reach far enough to grab it. His eyes darted around the alleyway, looking for something long and thin he could use to fish it out. He stopped once they landed on the violin case against the wall.
Desperation setting in, he cracked it open, staring at the bow securely fastened on the top.
Sebastian hesitated.
With no replacement bow available, it would ruin any chance of getting back to that audition.
He was about to shut the violin case when he heard the Biker let out a loud grunt in exasperation.
Shaking his head, Sebastian quickly unfastened the ties that kept the bow bound to its case.
There would be other orchestras.
This was his one chance to make things right.
Snatching his violin bow, he raced onto the sidewalk. “Miss?” He called out to her, “Excuse me, miss! Let me help you with that!”
But it was too late.
The Biker was blazing down the street again on her hotwired motorcycle, leaving nothing but a trail of gray smoke. Lingering on the gravel, Sebastian gazed down the path she had taken off on, eyes full of wonder and hope.
Then, he glanced down. Shifting his feet, he could see her keys shining through the drain grate. Without hesitation, he stuck his violin bow into one of the holes. He wrenched it back and forth, trying to find the best angle to pick up the keys. The hair began to break from scratching against the rugged metal.
His father would kill him when he found out.
But at the moment, Sebastian could hardly bring himself to care.
After a few good tries, he finally managed to scoop up the key, the small trinket attached to it dangling between the shaft and hair of the bow.
Whatever was left of it, anyway.
With baited breath, he slowly lifted it up towards the holes until he was able to pluck it out with his fingers. Once it was in his grasp, he quickly clasped it into a tight fist and backed away, not wanting to risk losing the key he had worked so hard to get.
At a safe distance away from the grate, he opened up his fist to reveal the keys, savoring the sight as if he had just plucked a diamond from the mines. Now that he had a better look at it, he noticed a single word inscribed on the silver trinket.
A name.
“Victoria.”
It rolled off his tongue perfectly, like music to his ears.
And now, as he looked at the keys in his hand, he was determined to find out exactly what that music meant to him.