If music be the food of love..
Scarlett Hunter was in the midst of her dreams. At sixteen she was already making a name for herself in the world of classical music, a violin virtuoso discovered when she was five. Everything was brutally torn away from her as a result of a horrific accident and was forced to relocate and start over, leaving the life she loved behind. But who knew she would be ending up in a place that had the characters of a book she once read, and also live day to day life with them? (sorry about the shitty summary) AU, some lemons. No Bella, Location in Britain. Some cannon pairing. Scarlett x Edward pairing, bonding over music.
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I haven't stayed in my own bedroom for a very long time. I was used to travelling a lot, and always had a serious case of wanderlust, which was fine before since I was always on tour with some orchestra, ensemble or other. Having to move in with my dad meant that I was staying put in this shitty little town of Saundersfoot, in the South West of Wales, where the sunshine hardly graced the place with it's presence.
Moving here wasn't an easy choice. In fact it was a last resort. I couldn't handle the media speculation any more, the guilt from my mum... I needed to start anew. Stay anonymous.
So that's what led me towing a clusterfuck of luggage to the front door of my new 'home'. I saw a little post-it note on the cutesy white door. It was a miracle I saw it since I nowhere near had 20-20 vision. My glasses were in the bottom of my handbag and I couldn't be bothered to scrounge for it. Being on stage, people were pretty vain and didn't like me wearing my glasses so I had to have contacts in all the time for performances. However, the complete asshat I am, I forgot to get my new set of dailies from the opticians back at London since I left with such haste. Sighing, I reached for the little post it note and brought it up so close to my face I could almost inhale it. It read in my dad's scrawl:
darling I'm sorry I can't be at home to greet you. Couldn't get the day off work, vets is absolutely swamped. Will probably be back for dinner, key is under the pot. Make yourself at home!
Flipping' typical. My father cares more about those little dogs than his under aged daughter who's travelled a long way to live with him. Whatever. I knew what I was getting when I said I'd move to Pembrokeshire. Parent of the year award goes to... not my dad.
I turned over all the pots by the door before finding the key, popped it in then turned, whilst trying to drag all of my luggage in so I wouldn't have to make two trips. Graaah I'm ridiculously lazy.
Five pieces of luggage and a violin case later, no slipped disks and no harm done. I managed to lug everything to what was once 'my room' before my parent's divorced. I'm glad to see that my bed no longer has bars (when I was four, I used to be a bit of a ruffian and loved to fall off the floor and repeatedly hit my head. ON PURPOSE. I'm surprised I didn't have any brain damage..) and was replaced with a lovely king sized bed and floral covers which matched the curtain.
The walls were the same non-descript shade of eggshell, no posters, no tell tale knick knacks of my childhood. It was practically like a hotel room. That was fine, I was used to hotel rooms. But at least this, I could personalise. Got to hand it to the man though, it looked like the room was decorated with a feminine touch, not at all like a dude's den. I'm impressed. Or maybe he has a girlfriend... Ew, if he did then she's the one that sorted out my room. Shudder.
The only thing that fussed me over this living arrangement is the fact that I need my own bathroom. There was no way I would cede to anything less. After years of hotel rooms, sharing a bathroom with another human being just grossed the hell out of me. I know it made me sound like a selfish bitch, but sorry, no one is encroaching on my easement.
I checked, the little door which led to an adjoining bathroom, holding my breath if it was cleaned to my standard. I pulled on the cord, and when the lights came on I exhaled in relief. Phew. Immaculate. No spills or mess, the scent of bleach and pine clear in the air. Also no toiletries. Well, why am I even surprised..
Right then, unpacking it is. I painstakingly took out all of my things one by one, being very OCD about having everything in the right place otherwise I break out in hives. To make this task slightly less monotonous, I took out my Iphone and dock, and put it on the shuffle setting. Blurred Lines blared out and I got caught in the beat. I put all my clothes, lingerie in the appropriate drawers, hung all my need to hang clothes, including my concert dresses (no idea why I even brought them, no performances for me). I then did the last touches by hanging my posters of my idols Itzhak Perlman and the hottie that is Joshua Bell. Then I took out all my snaps and pictures, tickets, autographs, memories of friends and tacked them onto my wall. I took out my violin stand and violin and put them two meters from the radiator, otherwise if I put it to close the heat would have made the wood expand and have caused it to go seriously out of tune. Urgh. I was not in the mood to have a wrestling match with my tuning pegs.
Star fishing on the bed, the full extent of what I have actually lost finally hits me. No more orchestra. No more friends. No more snooty conductors. No more hilarious conductors. No more music banter, tours, new places to explore. Most of all, no more performances. I have literally cut myself off from everything I hold dear. Of course not by choice. My phone pings.
Vitalia: Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeey girlioooo. How's the land of sheep going? You a sheep shagger yet??? TELL ME EVERYTHING. Missed you so so much, facetime soon please? Rehearsals sucked without you today. Def not the same :( think even Crabb is a bit mopey 'cuz you're not here any more. Love you loser. Mwah mwah xoxo
I read the message with tears in my eyes and sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Vitalia was my desk partner for two years since she moved from a music school from Russia. We hit it off straight away, and at first I was worried that she would be another bitchy, competitive violinist who would try and out do me at any chance. However, I realised how much of a babe she was, and was perfectly content with sitting next to me instead of trying to get my place as section leader. She's been my best friend and has helped me through everything. I sigh, and not reply. For now I'm too depressed, but she knows I've read it. I hope she'll understand.
Crabb was my favourite conductor for a long time. I've had my fair share of them, but he's always been the best to me. He knows how to push, he'll make you cry, he'll make you sweat, and he'll teeter you on the edge of an emotional breakdown. After he's dragged you to hell and back, you'll thank him for it. He'll make you perform the best you've ever performed. So many times, over so many practices I've cussed at him for making my back ache, my hand cramp and the tips of my fingers bleed from overuse, but without him I would not be the violinist I am today, and for that I am forever grateful.
To stop my depression, I tried to distract myself with something.. anything. Then I remembered that I had a balcony in my room, but had a safety bar on the door since I was such a naughty child and would have probably fallen out of it first chance I had. After some unsuccessful attempts to take it off, I came to the conclusion that I'm not going to be able to open the French doors so I trudged downstairs to do something else. At that moment, I heard the purr of an engine come through the front, and the shutting of a door. Daddy dearest was home.
He came in with his briefcase and shit and sounded like a pile of elephants storming through. Apt since he was a vet. “ SCARLETT DEAREST I'M HOME” he yelled to the universe. I winced, hoping he didn't burst an eardrum. Jeez.
I rolled my eyes. “Keep it down dad, I'm here, just a few feet from you. I'm not deaf. Well not sure whether or not I am now from that shouting you've just done.”
He came in front of me with wonder and apprehension in his eyes. I did not look anything like my father. He was tall as a reed, with a full head of golden blonde hair, and a peaches and cream complexion. Whereas, I was short, with golden tanned skin (I'm a half cast, my mother is Asian), Long dark brown hair. The only thing I shared with my father was my blue gray eyes, as a result of a recessive gene. Otherwise, you couldn't tell that I was his daughter at all.
I haven't seen my father, in two years. The last time I saw him like this face to face was when he came to an NYO concert in the Albert Hall in London, when he managed to pry away from his precious work. He looked kind of awkward. Well, I felt kind of awkward. I cleared my throat and we gave each other a very very awkward hug. I'm usually a pretty affectionate person, but this was just weird.
He cleared his throat “Ah yes, sorry darling. You know me, blind as a bat.” Bullshit, he had 20-20 vision. I merely pressed my lips together in an attempt to smile but kind of failed.
“What do you want for dinner tonight? How about a Chinese? We need to celebrate you moving in.” he went and ordered without waiting for my reply. Whatever. Typical him, he doesn't even know I have an MSG allergy, so I made sure to point it out. Half an hour later, we were seated and the table was laid out with the Chinese feast. I took out the chopsticks and poked around the veg for the beef.
“So dear, I've already enrolled you in the local secondary school. You know which one right?” He said with a mouthful of kung pao chicken.
Good thing I researched before I came here, I knew he was talking about Ysgol Greenhill. Average performance rates, not terrible for education, but not great either. Decent music facilities.. for a state school I guess.
I nodded whilst putting a prawn toast in my mouth “Yup. Did you get me uniform already?” This was a trick question, I already bought the uniform myself. Dad was useless with these things, well all things except animals and the practice. He paled a little.
“Shit, sorry Scar. I really forgot! Maybe you can just wear non uniform and I'll write you a note.” Urgh. Typical typical.
“Don't worry about it dad, when do I start?” I shovelled more food in. HA. I'm sooooo ladylike.
He didn't look up from his food. “Tomorrow.” I nearly rained the table with fried rice and shredded beef. You have got to be kidding me.
“WHAT?!” I cried out. “Dad, I really need to rest from today. Can't I come in the day after next?” He shook his head unapologetically. The knob.
“Sorry sweetie, no can do. You need an induction plus you're probably really behind this academic year already, you need all the help you can get to catch up.” What.An.Actual.Plonker. Behind? I'm behind? Well he wouldn't know, he never really made an effort to keep up with me apart from to tell his colleagues his daughter is the violinist on the BBC Proms. We had tutors when we went on tour, education was a massive part when it came to orchestra life. If we didn't have excellent grades we didn't perform. My blood cooled a little bit. He picked up where he left off.
“Also, we need to talk about you cooking dinner and doing the chores. If you catch up well in school then I might get you a car so you don't need to walk any more. You've got your license right?” Unbelievable. He doesn't have a clue who I am. I tried not to roll my eyes.
“I don't cook dad, or do chores.” He looked up then.
“You must have been very spoilt with your music things then. No cooking and no chores? Waited hand and foot. Lucky for some.” I gritted my teeth.
“I rehearsed twelve to fourteen hours a day dad. I had no time to cook or clean. All the players are catered, and we were mostly on tour there was no cleaning.” I bit out. Can't believe he belittled my hard work. I ate more prawn toast “And I'm sixteen, not seventeen so I haven't got my licence yet.” Well, not my actual legal licence. I had a fake one since I was fifteen, and I already know how to drive from the other guys at orch, but he didn't need to know that. The rest of the meal was uneventful, and I excused myself for an early night since I would have to go to school TOMORROW. Fricking tomorrow.
I took all my clothes off and climbed into bed in my bra and pants, and willed myself to sleep. I had a big day tomorrow.
AUTHORS NOTE: Oooooh I wonder what will happen tomorrow? *wiggles eyebrows*
please review, always want to know how to improve a story!!!