You Can't Fight Fate

“I was involved with this boy in High School and I'll admit we were cute,
He was the three year captain of varsity soccer,
And randomly he baked like he was Betty Crocker,
And though Tyler was a little bit off his rocker I thought I was in love with this boy.

He took me to my junior and senior prom,
We made love like he was being shipped to Vietnam,
I even thought of taking yoga with his Mom.
I thought he was the one.
'Til graduation came,
I saw a future that stayed the same,
it was a shame...”

I cut off the singer at my professor’s signal in my Musical Theatre Technique class. Musical technique was one of my favorite classes because I could let loose. Though I was an English major, I also opted to minor in Musical Theater. Though I wasn’t into the rock scene, crowded concerts and screaming fans, I loved being back stage…the Broadway stage specifically. I was the student director for the drama class and I loved it.

“That’s beautiful Ms.Winrow! It’s so nice to see you finally stepping out of your shell,” Mr. Shuster exclaimed, “how about we do your solo for the play now?”
She nodded and set up to sing. Northeastern decided to do the popular musical “into the woods for our winter performance, she was playing little red riding hood.

“I wish..
It's not for me,
It's for my granny in the woods.
A loaf of bread, please--
To bring my poor old hungry
Granny in the woods...”

She sang along to my piano.

“Great rehearsal everyone!” Mr. Shuster applauded us, “now…for the moment you have all been waiting for! Its time to announce that will indeed have the annual talent show in the spring!”

The whole class cheered at the news. The Northwestern annual talent show was the highlight for the students on campus; everyone came to it, including talent scouts. Anyone with talent wanted in this show and it was so big, you had to audition. The audition was tough too.

“For all of you freshmen, you’ve probably heard of the audition and its tough…but, I believe you can all get in, I’ve seen amazing talent this past semester. I bid you good luck.”
With that, the class exited. I expressed my excitement for the talent show with my fellow classmates as we left the theater, only to be called back by Mr. Shuster.

“Yes Mr. Shuster,”

He motioned for me to join him at his grand piano on the stage. I placed my bag down once again and sat next to him.

He began to fiddle with the keys, not really playing anything.

“Ah...the piano….what I’d call the greatest instrument invented,” he began to say, “I’m not very good, as you can tell…but I will always have a passion for it.”

I nodded my head, confused as to why he was telling me this.

“But you…Ms. Jameson are….do you mind?”

He held his hands above the keys, inviting me to play.

“Seriously?” I asked as I scooted over, “anything in particular?”

He crossed his arms and shook his head, “Something fast, show off!”

I giggled and brazed my fingers over the brilliant cold keys. The piano was my life, I had played it before I could walk and I haven’t stropped yet. At one time, I would spend up to eight hours a day on the piano, learning Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, and Mozart. Especially Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata, I learned it my first year in high school and haven’t forgotten since. When I was younger, I was a competition pianist and won many international awards (and I beat the Asian kids too) . Besides my dad being who he was, I guess the fast that I was considered a world-class pianist made since (yeah, I was the freakishly talented kid you saw on those daytime talk shows.) I was pretty famous in the classical music world, and Mr. Shuster was always asking me to play for him one day, I guess this day came.

I decided on going with my favorite piece to play-Beethoven’s Moonlight sonata, movement three. It was fast and full of emotion. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. With a smirk, I began the first note, my fingers then blazed over the keys, hitting each note in perfect time. I even surprised my self as I improved a little at the end once I finished, it had been awhile since my days consisted of only classical music.
Mr. Shuster clapped graciously after I stopped.

“My…my…my…That was amazing! Great choice of music, one of my favorites, and I must say, it was the best I’ve ever heard since Beethoven himself!” He gushed, “You are truly a talent!”

“Thank you Sir,” I replied, “it’s really nothing, I mean, my little brothers can play it too.”

“Of course, you are always so humble,” he commented, “ah, well, I must be going, I have a lesson to teach.”

He began to exited the stage, leaving me and the piano.

“Oh and Ms. Jameson!” he called out, “I expect a piece performed by you in the talent show!”

I gave him a thumb up, but I actually wasn’t sure about the talent show at the current moment.

I turned back to the piano, instantly feeling more relaxed. The setting was perfect, an empty theater and black grand piano: a pianist’s dream.

I stretched out my fingers, cracked my knuckles and sighed. Soon, I began playing Cole Porter's, "Night And Day”, adding my own jazz improvisations to it. I loved jazz piano even more than classical piano because you could take a piece of work and make your own; it was magical to me.

I closed my eyes and smiled to myself as I peacefully played, being immersed into to the music. Once the song was finished, I ran my hand through my hair in satisfaction. I looked up at my wrist and noticed my small tattoo I got for my sixteenth birthday. It read “Believe” in cursive, which was perfect because it didn’t draw too much attention but it was a constant reminder to myself. Belief was one of my many struggles, belief in others and me. It had to be my favorite one of all of my tattoos; most of them were tiny and could easily be hidden.

For the longest time, Nick didn’t even notice I had tattoos. I had quite a few actually, including the one on my wrist, stars on my foot, and music notes behind my right ear. Nick actually loved my tattoos (surprisingly), Sometimes when we were just sitting around he would trace over the one on my wrist with his fingers repeatedly. I loved it when he did that. I didn’t think Nick would like a girl with tattoos, but obviously I was wrong.

“S-Stevvie? “voice called out, bringing me out of my blur.

I looked up to see Carl jogging down to meet me as I made my way down the stage.

“Hey Carl,” I answered him, “how’d you find me here?”

“You’re always in here on Tuesdays and Thursdays from what Nick told me,” he replied, “who would have known.”

I giggled at the little blond guy. Carl was huge dork, but he was adorable.

“Of course Nick would give out my secret hiding places to you,” I stated, “what’s up?”

He stuffed his pockets in his hands and shifted around shortly before talking.

“So…I was thinking maybe we could do something on Friday or something…if you’re free?” he stuttered shyly, “there’s a Tchaikovsky listening party at the library I thought you would like…”

I bunched my eyebrows together to think if I had anything to do, and then deciding no.

“Um…actually I’d love to go,” I answered.

A wide smile formed on his face as he nodded. “Cool…cool, I’ll pick you up at seven?”
I nodded in agreement.

“See you later then,” he stated as he headed to leave.

I began to gather up my stuff.

“Man, I wonder if you would have told me about this little date of yours of if I didn’t happen to overhear you?” Nick asked as he strolled up to me.

“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.

He grabbed my right hand and a began to trace over my tattoo as we exited the theater.

“You forgot didn’t you?” he muttered.

I thought for a moment and widened my eyes.

“The bet…”

A smug grin formed on his face as he nodded his head.

“I’ll call Mom to let her know we have company,” he replied.

I groaned and hit myself on the forehead.

“Next weekend should be fun, “ Nick decided, “Oh, and have fun on your date.”
Nick walked off with some girls I didn’t know after giving me a wink and a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes at him as I watched his cute little ass stroll away. I was suddenly jealous of those mystery girls.

“Stupid bet,” I muttered.