by Anna Adams
Matt was bored. Bored out of his mind.
He’d been haunting the halls of the Met for two long hours and still there was no sign of Maude.
“Rubens’ Prometheus Bound is quite fascinating, don’t you think, Sheryl?” a tall, slim man in a dark turtleneck asked his fashionable date.
“Not as much as the Van Dyck, honey,” she chirped.
Matt let out a deep, frustrated groan.
“Shoot me now,” he murmured helplessly.
Just when he felt he had reached the bottom of an endless pit of Baroque misery, he saw Cynthia admiring a Van Dyck not far from him.
Matt tried to walk away discreetly. But he wasn’t quick enough.
“Matt!” Cynthia shrieked in disbelief. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you liked Bar—”
“Shhh!” he hushed her. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll never go with you to another exhibition,” he hesitated.“Where’s . . . er, I mean, did you come here alone?” he asked.
Cynthia eyed Matt suspiciously, then her eyes widened in shock.
“Did you come here because . . . !” The rest of the sentence was muffled by Matt’s hand.
“Stop yelling!” Matt urged her. “You are completely mistaken.”
“Did you come expecting to bump into Maude?” Cynthia asked in a ridiculously loud whisper.
Matt rolled his eyes.
“Of course not,” he huffed. “I was just—”
“Don’t bother,” Cynthia interrupted with one of her no-nonsense looks. “If you came for Maude, you’ll be disappointed. She made other plans for this evening.”
Maude felt an acute sense of disappointment.
The restaurant, Ambrosia, was very nice, but the young girl felt she couldn’t breathe. The low square dining tables were covered with elegant, pale pink silk tablecloth. At the far right of the room, a stern-looking pianist was playing softly on a grand piano. The waiters were standing upright in their stern black-and-white uniforms, their bow-ties stuck perfectly under their pointy chins. To be sure, they never dropped their plates, Maude thought, smiling at the memory of Jonathan’s short, but tragic, waitressing career.
“What are you smiling about?” Thomas asked as he looked at the menu.
“Oh, I was just thinking of a friend of mine who also happens to be the worst waiter to ever set foot in a restaurant.”
She looked around. Couples were whispering over their lit candles and glasses of wine. Maude’s mind wandered back to Las Fajitas where everything was lively and wonderfully noisy, and she sighed.
“I don’t really know what to choose off the menu. Any suggestions?”
“The shrimp is a very nice starter. You could try that.”
“Hum,’ Maude mused. “Are you telling me it’s good when actually it’s spicy, and you just want to take my picture while my mouth is in flames?”
Thomas looked at her blankly.
“No, I just meant it’s good. Ambrosia doesn’t serve any spicy dishes,” he added matter-of-factly. “Thank goodness for that.”
Maude’s face fell, but Thomas didn’t see it as he was busy waving towards the waiter.
Maude almost wished the shrimp were spicy, but, as Thomas had said, they were deliciously stale. At about halfway through their course, Maude saw a tall, blonde young man enter the restaurant alone. Maude held her breath as she looked at the man’s face. She could see only half of his face, but felt sure it was Matt. Her pulse quickened as the young man talked to waiter who then directed him toward his table. He walked past Maude and Thomas.
He wasn’t Matt.
Maude couldn’t understand why she felt an immense wave of disappointment, but she didn’t have time to analyze the feeling because she felt her phone vibrate.
It was a text message from Jazmine which said:
Turn on Z100 now! Hurry.
“I just received the weirdest text from Jazmine. I’ve got to go outside for a couple of minutes. Do you mind?”
She hurried outside without waiting for an answer. She turned on the radio on her cell phone and went to Z100 as Jazmine had indicated.
She put the radio to her ear, but almost dropped it when she heard the song:
New York’s the place to see
Paris the place to be
Paris beats New York any day
Just give up and walk away
Her song, “Paris Versus New York City,” was on the radio. But how was that even possible? It wasn’t her voice! She hadn’t even recorded the single yet.
Suddenly Maude let out a small cry as she recognized the voice.
It was Lindsey’s voice, singing HER lyrics!
Maude’s head started to spin and felt her legs would give in under her. This couldn’t be happening. She must, she must be dreaming! How could Lindsey have known about this song? The song continued and the male part was sung. Once again, the voice sounded oddly familiar. However, it wasn’t Matt’s voice. As she saw Thomas walking towards her with her coat, her eyes widened in disbelief.
Thomas’s voice was on the radio, singing Matt’s part!
Thomas had almost reached her at this point and hurried anxiously toward her when he saw her face carved in a mask of utter shock.
“Oh my God,” she choked, stepping away from him as he reached out for her. “Don’t touch me.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!” she shrieked. “You stole my song, Thomas!”
He started to say something, but she interrupted him.
“Don’t lie to me! It’s on the radio right now! Oh my God, is that why you wanted us to have dinner tonight? Because you knew it would be released today? Is this some sick joke?”
“No, Maude, listen,” he said, trying to reach out for her again, but not succeeding. “This isn’t a joke. I didn’t know they would release this song tonight. It was supposed to be released in a couple of weeks. I—”
“That’s your excuse?!” she cried in disbelief. “You didn’t know the song you stole from me was going to be airing tonight! Are you freaking kidding me? You stole my song, Thomas! I thought we were friends at the least! How could you?”
“Maude, please, calm down. Let me explain!”
“What the hell is there for you to explain? You betrayed my trust, Thomas. You lied to my face. I sang that song to you to get an honest opinion. And you used it and recorded it! With LINDSEY LINTON!”
Maude rushed back into the restaurant to grab her bag. Thomas followed her, calling her name.
“Maude, listen. I was supposed to sign a contract with Soulville Records. I was the one who was supposed to work with James Baldwin!” he cried.
“What?” Maude whirled around, not even caring that the other customers were starting to look at them.
“Before Mr. Baldwin found you in Paris, Soulville Records was ready to sign a contract with me. Then he found you, and he fought for you. They dropped me like I was nothing. It was supposed to be my big break, Maude.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were? Why didn’t you explain?” she shouted. “I wouldn’t have rubbed Soulville in your face! I wouldn’t have talked so much about my album! God, I feel so stupid!” Maude cried out. “Is that why you stole my song? Out of revenge!? Is that why you became my friend? What did I ever do to you, Thomas?”
“When I brought this song to Glitter through Lindsey, they knew it would be a hit. They offered me a contract. I’m with Glitter Records now.”
Maude turned away disgustedly. She grabbed her bag and started to leave the table, but Thomas caught her arm and held on tight.
“Please, don’t go. Let me explain,” he pleaded.
She looked at his hand, feeling his fingers tighten around her arm.
“You repulse me,” she said coldly. “Take your hand off my arm right now or you’ll regret it,” she warned him, her eyes dark with pain.
Thomas slowly unlatched his fingers. She snatched her coat from his other arm and
started for the exit, head held high.
“Matt knew,” he declared, nastily, not wanting to go down alone.
Maude stopped in her tracks, stunned.
“He knew who I was and deliberately kept it from you,” he snarled.
Maude remained silent. Then, she lifted her head a little higher and rushed outside in the cold night.
When she arrived home that evening, she was greeted by Jazmine’s grim face.
“It’s all over the radio. I’m so sorry, Maude,” Jazmine whispered.
Maude didn’t utter a word. She walked past her and locked herself in her room. Thomas had betrayed her and so had Matt. Her song, the song she had worked on for weeks, had been stolen from her. Her hit song had been stolen. It was the song that was supposed to launch her career. Of course the other songs were great, but this one was special.
And to hear Lindsey sing her part!
Maude held back her tears. She refused to cry over this, even though they were tears of anger. Thomas didn’t deserve a tear and neither did Matt.
Thomas may have betrayed me, she thought angrily, but I certainly won’t let him break me or my career.
She walked towards her piano and sat determinedly on the stool. Slowly, the lyrics started forming in her head, and a melody echoed relentlessly through her brain. That night Maude didn’t sleep. She didn’t hear the door slam when James and Victoria came home, she didn’t hear James argue on the phone with Alan Lewis. She worked the entire night on her song, perfecting it, molding it with her rage, betrayal, and cold determination.
It was only when the first rays of the pale spring sun began to make their way through the sky that she fell asleep, exhausted but satisfied.
“She gave our song to the enemy!” Alan Lewis bellowed, banging his fist on the oval table of the conference room. “How long are you going to stand by her side while she makes mistake after mistake?” he asked, his face red with anger.
“How long will you keep looking for excuses to get rid of her, Alan?” James asked, his voice poised but his face set with determination.
“I’m not looking for excuses. She’s handing them to me on a silver platter!” Alan spluttered.
“Maude is still young and inexperienced. She didn’t know Thomas had been a candidate for the same contract we offered her in the end.”
“And you didn’t know they were friends? You should have watched her closer instead of giving her all the freedom to create and compose and write and sing and waste my money!”
“I take full responsibility, Alan. As for the freedom to create, I think that is what every artist needs. And no matter what you think, Alan, the song Maude and Matt composed was a great song. That freedom to create you so sternly frown upon gave birth to an immense hit.”
“I know it’s a hit!” shrieked Alan hysterically. “It’s all over the radio! The single will be released in about a week and every teenager in America will be buying it! Thomas Bradfield is going to be famous. We never should have let him go.”
James Baldwin spoke calmly.
“I think this proves we were right to let him go. I could never work with an artist capable of such base conduct. Thomas may be famous tomorrow, but that will only be because Maude and Matt wrote a song worth listening to, not Thomas. Matt would never have composed such a song if he had collaborated with Thomas.”
“You don’t know that, Baldwin. I don’t think we should keep her. That girl is too much trouble. We can terminate her contract now and save our losses. Travis agrees with me.”
James’ eyes flashed.
“Soulville is keeping Maude Laurent, Alan. We are going to start working on a new debut single right away. I refuse to—”
James stopped talking. He could hear someone play on the piano in the entry lobby.
Nobody ever used the allegedly cursed Concert Grand Piano because its keys were so hard and the sound was rough. Even the most beautiful piece could be tainted by the quality of the sound.
Alan and James looked at each other quizzically and headed towards the main lobby room to see who was playing on it. When they arrived, they saw that they weren’t the only ones to have gathered around the ancient piano. The singers working in the neighboring rooms, including Matt, had assembled around the piano player. James and Alan approached the piano and saw Maude playing.
Then her voice rang out full of emotion:
I trusted you, I fell for you
Your eyes were kind, your heart felt true
How did you dare, oh how could you
Take my heart and break it in two
Her voice quivered with heart-wrenching emotion as she sang the chorus
Betrayed but not broken
A door shuts, another opens
I’ll be strong, I will move on
Your memory won’t last ‘til dawn
Betrayed, but I refuse to be broken
In time you will be forgotten
Her fingers ran beautifully across the piano as she played her piano solo without singing. The hard keys forced her to pour her whole strength in her fingers. Usually when she played, it was effortless. On this piano, however, she felt the energy running through her arm and explode at the tip of her fingers when they entered in contact with the hard, rusty, ivory keys. It was as if Maude was fighting against the resistant keys, trying to dominate, to master them, and the result was breathtaking.
She started singing again, her pain visibly spread across her face
Your lies echo in my head
Can’t sleep, I toss around in bed
My heart is full of regret
What should I have seen?
What didn’t I get?
I should’ve known better
I should’ve realized sooner
Although I was burned
I can stand up and say lesson learned
She bent her shoulders and slowed the pace of her song.
Our memories, forever marred
I see you for who you are
She picked up the tempo and her notes rang loudly, reverberating against the walls of the room as she played the final part of her song:
Know that you will always be
The two-faced liar that betrayed me
Know that you will always be
The two-faced liar who never cared for me
The final solo was that of Maude’s triumph as the hard keys submitted to her power and strength. Maude proudly demonstrated her virtuosity as the piano accompanied her beautiful complaint and enhanced the girl’s pain and suffering. Like the phoenix rising from its ashes, Maude had given this ancient rosewood piano a new life.
James looked at Alan smugly. Alan was, for once in his life, dumbfounded. He didn’t know much about the creating process, but he knew gold when he saw it and this was it.
“Release this single before Lindsey Linton does or this time, the girl is out.”
James smiled satisfactorily. Lindsey Linton and Thomas Bradfield were no match for Maude.
Matt walked towards the Grand Piano, but Maude hurried away from the piano and into the kitchen trying to escape him.
“Maude,” he called out as he ran after her.
He caught up with her as she entered the empty kitchen.
“Did you see the exhibition yesterday?” he asked.
Matt knew perfectly well that Maude hadn’t set foot at the museum the previous night, but proud as he was, he didn’t want Maude to know that he had hoped to bump into her. He had sworn Cynthia to secrecy, but hadn’t managed to get any information on Maude’s whereabouts.
“No, I was with Thomas yesterday evening at Ambrosia,” Maude answered coolly.
Matt felt his heart stop and his blood rush to his cheeks. Maude had been on a date while he had spent countless, precious hours in a museum he hated, looking at boring, lifeless paintings from another age.
“On a date with that thief?” he cried angrily. “When are you going to stop trusting him?”
“You tell me, Matt.”<
br />
“How could you even make him listen to our song? Maybe that’s something you could start by explaining.”
Maude crossed her arms across her chest.
“You’re the one with some explaining to do. You knew who Thomas was when you met him at rehearsal. How could you not warn me?”
Matt, who had felt guilty for weeks, was hot with righteous indignation at that moment and couldn’t bring himself to apologize.
“How could I tell you? Would you have actually listened to me if I had told you that James wasn’t so hot about him from the beginning because he didn’t trust him? That he felt he had too much cold ambition? Would you have believed me?”
“Why wouldn’t I have? I wouldn’t have been so stupid as to give him my song, Matt, at the very least!”
“We were barely even friends back then. I was starting to hope . . . ” he hesitated. “I mean, we’d just started to get along. Was I really supposed to tell you to distrust the guy with whom you got along from the beginning and for whom you were obviously starting to have feelings?”
Maude’s face flushed at his words.
“Feelings for Thomas?” she echoed.
Maude, who was just as proud as Matt, was less than willing to admit that she had spent the entire evening thinking about him and wishing Thomas had brought her to Las Fajitas instead of Ambrosia.
“Isn’t that why you let him hear our song? The song we wrote together?”
“What I feel or don’t feel for Thomas isn’t the matter here, Matt. You should’ve been honest with me once you knew who he was.”
“You shouldn’t sing our songs to the first random guy you meet or pays you a compliment. And to think you were dining with him yesterday,” Matt expostulated. “Do you still plan on going out with him?” he asked contemptuously.
“Who I date or don’t date is none of your damn business, Matt,” Maude retorted, raising her head a little higher with each word.
“Maybe it should be since apparently you give out my songs to every potential boyfriend of yours.”