by Daisy Allen
The flowers loom, even in the dark and I avoid them as I change into a t-shirt.
My senses are starting to return, and now I long for the numbness again.
I can still hear the jeering from the crowd, the look of confusion and worry on Marius face. Jez’s disappointment.
I can still taste the acid in my mouth as I just sat there, frozen.
“I’m not good enough. I should’ve known that. He was right. I’m just not good enough.” The words envelop me in the dark as I lay down, my head sinking into the pillow. There’s comfort in being in this headspace. I know no one will expect anything of me, anymore.
Chapter Thirty-two
Marius
The concert ends as normal. I returned to the stage after a few songs, and just lost myself in the music.
One encore and we’re done, rushing off the stage.
“Where is she?” Jez asks as soon as we’re backstage.
“Mike said Hailey took her back to the hotel.”
He looks at me, then at the back entrance door and back at me. “Well, are you fucking coming or not?”
Chapter Thirty-three
Anca
The dreams are dark. They are too real and make me wake up in a sweat.
I check the clock.
It’s close to midnight. They’ll all be back soon.
I don’t know if I can’t wait to see them to apologize, or if I should just take this time to pack and leave, be out of their lives for good.
I can hear chatter from the street through the open window.
And then there’s a knock on my door.
I should’ve known he’d come for me.
He who?
You know who.
I slide out of bed and pad over barefoot to the door.
He knocks once more before I open it.
“Anca, there you are,” he says, smiling and holding out a dahlia to me. “I’ve missed you.”
And that’s the last thing I remember.
Chapter Thirty-four
Marius
We don’t say anything in the taxi back to the hotel. For some sick reason I can’t keep staring at the bruise spreading on his left cheek. Maybe because I’m wondering how it’s similar to mine, courtesy of his fist, and how it’s all come to this.
It’s a short drive and we jump out of the car as soon as it pulls up to the curb.
The elevator ride up the four floors feels interminable. We both jump from leg to leg, fidgety, like we’re starters in the 100 meter relay. The elevator bells dings and the door’s barely open before we push ourselves through the widening gap and run to Anca’s room down the hall.
It’s somewhat cartoonish, the way we come to a skidding stop outside her door and then glance at each other and then back at the door.
For a moment I consider pushing him away, but then it dawns, he has every right to be there that I do and I take a step back. The smallest flutter of confusion flashes across his face before he lifts his knuckles and raps on the door.
“Anca,” I say, once he’s done knocking. “Anca, it’s us. We just want to check to see how you are.”
We wait for a moment, listening for the sounds of her moving on the other side of the door. But there are none.
“Try again,” I say to Jez and he nods and knocks again, this time louder and for longer.
“Anca, it’s Jez. And Marius, just come so we can see you’re alright.”
But she doesn’t.
Because she isn’t.
Chapter Thirty-five
Anca
I open my eyes, and it’s just as dark as it was before I opened them.
But there’s something about your other senses becoming more sensitive, because, just from the scents I can smell, the sounds I can hear, I know exactly where I am.
It’s the last place I want to be right now with the very last person I want to be with.
I try to stand, but something stops me, my hands are free, but my legs are tied down, my waist in some sort of restraint.
I don’t struggle. I know there’s no point.
I’m at the complete mercy of him.
Of the Maestro.
As if on cue, his voice creeps out of the darkness and crawls into my ears. “Anca. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you.”
My hands instantly come up to cover the sides of my head. That voice. It’s so much worse than I remember. Even through the fogginess of my head right now, it cuts right through, like aural cyanide in my veins.
I feel my arms pulled away and held to my sides and his voice so much closer than it was before. “No, no. You need to hear me,” he rasps right by my ear, inside my brain. “You’ve been away from me so long, you’ve forgotten all the lessons I taught you.”
“You didn’t teach me anything.”
“Didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you… that you are not made to play in front of crowds… like a performing monkey? And what happened tonight?”
The thought that he was out there, witnessing my failure tonight makes my chest crumble. I can hardly breathe at the thought that everything he’s ever said about me has been true.
“Rubbish. Such rubbish you’re been playing. What a waste, what a waste of your talent, Anca!”
“What talent, you’re always telling me that people are only going to laugh at me!” I exclaim, throwing his own words back at him.
“Yes, Anca! Because they do not understand what true music is! And you... you go out there, pandering to their mediocrity. No, I had to come and remind you of what you’re really capable.”
He takes my hands in his and I struggle, trying to rip them away, his touch making every cell in my skin crawl, trying to shrink away from his clammy fingers.
He holds tight though, and pushes my hands forward, and I can feel smooth wood under my fingertips.
Oh. My harp. My old harp.
The years fade away, and I’m in his music studio all over again.
I run my fingers over the curve of the neck and the tears spring to my eyes. I lean forward and rest my head against it, its faint scent permeating my brain. Anyone who’s ever learned an instrument and loved their instrument know that it’s an extension of their self.
As much as it is a reminder of some of the darkest times in my life, the memories of all those hours I spent learning, creating, living and dying while playing this harp come rushing back.
“She missed you too, Anca. She missed your soul. It’s time to come back. Play, Anca, play. Play as you are meant to. Play as I taught you.”
Under the blindfold, I feel my eyes close and my fingers run down the length of the strings, muscle memory springing to life, the end of my fingertips twitching, aching to play.
“See? You’re not freezing right now, are you? It’s because here is where you’re meant to be, Anca. With me. Play.”
A few solo notes break the salty air as he plucks the strings.
“No!” I yell out, wrapping my arms around her, as far as they can reach. I don’t want him touching her, tainting her. “Get away from her!”
He knows what I mean, of course. He’s always known, hasn’t he? “Okay, Anca! Okay. I’m stepping away. But you can’t let a beauty like her to go to waste. Play. Here. Where you’re not afraid, not even of me.”
He’s right. I have no fear here. Why aren’t I afraid to play with him?
Because he trained you that way, Anca! Don’t listen to him. The voice tickles at the edge of my brain.
I shake my head. Leave me alone.
No. This time the voice is Marius. I’m not leaving you, Anca. In the darkness I can see him, his eyes, his hands reaching out to me. Don’t listen to him, Anca. You are a star. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with, whatever you play. Remember the joy. Remember the fun. Remember the cheers, the love. For you.
Go away, Marius. Please. Just leave me here. I’m not good enough for you, for anyone, I beg him, but he just stands there, smiling, holding his hand out to me.
>
Why won’t he just go?
“Anca. Play!” The Maestro’s voice cuts through the fog in my head.
No. Tell him no. Do it, Anca…you can do it. It’s my voice now, not Marius, but mine. Mine. Telling me I can do this.
“N-n-no.” I stammer, fighting for every syllable.
“What did you say?” The Maestro’s voice booms in the dark.
“I sa-, I said, no. No!”
“I’ve asked so nicely, though, Anca… but it won’t always be this way. My patience has limits.” His voice, once so cajoling is suddenly hard, and then I feel it. The point. The cold, hard point of steel right there against the back of my neck.
No, no, not now. Not now that I’ve finally regained my sense of self. I can’t go this way.
But I know how crazy he can be, he had to be, to even get me here in the first place. Who knows what he’s capable of now… now that he’s heard me say no.
But I’d rather be dead than under his control for another moment longer.
“Maestro…”
“Yes, my dear, are you ready?” He asks, twisting his wrist, pressing the point deeper against my neck.
I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. “I’m… ready… I just have one request.”
“Anything for you, my angel. Anything for you.”
And I take one long breath, as if it will be my last.
Chapter Thirty-six
Marius
She’s not there, in her room.
She’s nowhere to be found.
We’ve spent the last hour scouring the hotel, inside and out, and the venue and everywhere in between.
“Tell us again, Hailey!” I beg our PR manager, searching her words for any detail I might have missed the last 15 times she’s repeated her steps.
“Guys – I wish I could tell you something that might help, I’m just as worried as you guys are.”
“And you’re sure she was okay? When you left her?”
“Well, she wasn’t happy and laughing, but she wasn’t sobbing or anything, I wouldn’t have left her if she had been. Jez? You know I wouldn’t have left her alone in that state, right?”
Jez gives Hailey’s shoulder a squeeze, “I know. I know…”
“So where could she have gone? And why won’t she answer her fucking phone?”
“Are we even sure she took it? I mean, maybe it’s somewhere around the room.” I get up, turning the couch cushion over, finding nothing but loose change and dust. “Goddamn it!” I curse, throwing the cushion against the coffee table. There’s a loud crash as it knocks over the flower vase, scattering glass, water and flowers all over the floor.
“Fuck it all to hell,” I growl, falling to my knees to collect the shards in my hand.
“Hey, be careful. Just... just leave it, man. Someone will take care of it, can’t be damaging your hand.” Jez says, his voice tired, tired from worrying.
“Really? You think I care about my hand at a time like this?”
He narrows his eyes and looks like he has a sharp retort, but not before something on the floor catches his eye.
“Marius… did you send Anca the dahlias?”
“Um, no, she doesn’t like them. They remind her of…”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So, who sent these?”
Hailey looks up from her phone. “They were downstairs when we checked in, reception said a fan had left them for her. There’s a card.”
Jez glances at me, his eyes wide. “Marius – grab the card.”
I forget that I’m too mad to take orders from him for the moment and reach for the soaked card lying amongst the vase debris.
“Open it.” He says after I just hold it in my hands.
I do, and it takes a split second for the blood to run cold in my veins.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
I hand it to him, and his skin turns white in the same amount of time it takes for us both to jump to our feet.
“He’s got her.”
I nod. “It’s got to be him.”
“What’s going on??” Hailey yells, trying to get our attention.
“No time to explain, Hails, just get everyone back here.”
“I think I know where they are.” I tell them.
Jez nods, “I think I know too.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
Anca
I wonder all the time what my mother and father thought about in that split second before their car accident, what they were doing. Was my mother smiling at my father as she teased him about the way he was dressed or was he growling at the way the car smelled too much like lavender, her scent.
Did they have that luxury, knowing that it would all be over for them soon? Or in those last moments, were they still thinking that the years lay far ahead of them, to be with each other, with Jez and me?
I just know that now, faced with the very real possibility of it all being taken away, I’m thinking of them. Of them, of Jez, and of Marius.
There’s no fear.
Just sadness.
For their sadness.
“So, are you ready to play now, Anca? Or are you going to tell me what your request it? We don’t have much time. We must be going from here soon, it’s not safe.” He emphasizes the last word, and the sharp point of his weapon, digs deeper into my skin, threatening to break it.
I can’t help but gasp. It doesn’t hurt… yet. But the anticipation is just as intense.
“Y-yes. Let my legs free, please. I can’t play without reaching the pedals. It’s just not complete, and I won’t play if it’s not perfect. It’s been so long since I played for you, I don’t want to play if it’s not perfect.”
My voice is soft, I’m trying to keep it calm, even as my mind races about how to execute my next step.
“Fine, Anca. I will do as you ask. But don’t get any ideas, it’s better for you to just stay with me. I’ll take care of you from now on.”
It’s hard to keep my mouth from lifting into a sneer at his words. How had I fallen for this before? How stupid could I have been?
“Yes, Maestro. I just want to be free to be with you.”
If he can spout off ridiculous words then so can I.
I feel his fingers fumbling at my feet, and the feel of something pulling, like rope, and then it breaks. Cut by something sharp. It’s hard not to focus on the fact that it’s probably the knife that he had poised at the nape of my neck.
I shuffle my legs, just to test their movement. They’re free. I’m free.
“Play now, Anca.”
I lift my hands and take a breath. And then I play.
Play like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. Play like my life depends on it. Play to release every pain and regret from my body, and welcome in nothing but the absolute joy of playing. And play… to call them to me. Marius! Jez! Come find me, I am here.
“STOP!! STOP! Anca! What is this rubbish! STOP!” He yells and the sound threatens to halt me, but I don’t stop.
“NO! No, this is NOT what you should be playing! NO!”
I feel him looming closer and hold my breath, waiting for the right moment.
My fingers fly over the strings, plucking each note with deliberation and purpose.
“This is what I play now, Maestro! This is my music! You’ve never heard of it? It’s called Beautiful, by Christina Aguilera. It’s a very famous song!” I shout out into the darkness.
“You talentless fool!” He spits out and I feel his fingers wrap around mine, pulling them from the harp.
Now! My mind yells and I kick out with my legs as hard as I can. Kick! Kick! Kick! Each one making contact- some with wood and some with leg. Flashes of pain run up my foot and shin but I ignore them as I rip my hand away from his and push myself up from the stool, reaching for the scarf around my eyes as I run, blindly away.
“No!” I hear him growl and his hand grabs my leg, pulling me to the ground before I can free my eyes.
“Ugh,”
I grunt, the wind slammed out of me. I drag air back into my lungs. Breathe, Anca breathe, remember… I never stop hearing him tell me. “Let me go!” I yell, kicking frantically, hoping just to tear my foot free of him.
“No, you are mine, I made you,” he bellows. And it scares me how much he believes it. How I used to believe it.
“You heard her! LET HER GO!” I suddenly hear a third or fourth voice in the distance shout. In my madness I can’t make out who it is, can’t even be sure I really heard it, but it gives me that last ounce of strength I need. I lift my leg up and bicycle kick down, praying that I meet skin and flesh and not a jagged rock.
“AHHH!” I screech for strength, slamming my leg down with all my might. I feel my heel slam against something with a sickening thud.
“UGHHH!” There’s a growl of pain and my foot is free.
I scramble to my feet and run, still blind.
“Anca!” The voices call to me and I turn in their direction, still running. My ankle twists on a rock, the blinding pain shoots all the way up to my knee and I feel myself buckle and fall toward the ground.
But I never reach it.
Something, someone, warm catches me around the waist and pulls me upright. I struggle, out of sheer instinct.
But they hold me tighter.
“Anca! It’s me, It’s Marius! It’s me, baby, it’s me. I got you. I’m here, I’ve got you!”
And suddenly I can see, the blindfold lifted from my eyes. And it’s really him. He’s here.
“Marius!” I cry, and feel my body buckle again, this time out of relief. But he doesn’t let me fall.
“You’re okay, baby. You’re okay.”
“You son of a bitch! I should’ve finished you off last time!” I suddenly hear Jez shout and I pivot around to see my brother running towards the Maestro, still crumpled on the ground.
“Oh my god! Jez, no! Marius! You’ve got to stop Jez, he’ll kill him!”
“Fuck. Stay here. You’re okay, just stay here, okay?”