The True Meaning of Fidelity.

Edward rarely thought of little Cecille as the years past. She still fluttered into his thoughts on occasion; such as the time he came across his large collection of Chopin pieces on album. He had never heard of what became of her or her talents. But, he couldn't imagine any change after meeting her only once. To him, she'll always be Cecille Bovier, an amazing pianist with bouncy brown curls and bright green eyes.

Well, that's what he thought until he actually saw the girl again. This time, instead of Philadelphia, the Cullens had taken residence in New Orleans, making their way across the country, hopefully somewhere in the stormy north, where they might be able to walk around in daylight. But, as of now, New Orleans was what the Cullen family called home.

What Edward recognized first was not Cecille herself, but rather her talent.

It was a musty and humid night in the south, and Edward found himself alone as he strolled down one of the streets in the French Quarter. It was quite quaint, a perfect night for a vampire, or so it spitefully seemed. As for why he was alone: why, that was a simple answer. The entire reason his family had conjoined in New Orleans was to celebrate yet another wedding between his sister Rosalie and brother Emmett. These periodic weddings always brought the couples of the family closer together, leaving him feeling like a leftover or extra that no one really knew what to do with. Generally, after the ceremonies, he branched out on his own.

Now, don't get him wrong, it's not that Edward minded his solitary lifestyle without a significant other, but the fact that everyone around him happened to have that other person was what really got to him.

Lucky for him, he found sanction in the small tables of an outdoor cafe and a light, leather-bound book he'd picked up from somewhere and hadn't gotten around to reading yet.

The street didn't bustle, but had a fair number of people walking about. They mostly ignored him, only few pausing to gaze at his inhuman beauty, before continuing around the corner walls of the cafe.

In an attempt to ignore those around him, Edward failed to notice the first few notes sprout from a nearby violin. Obviously aeolian, moving at a brisk allegro.

He recognized the piece immediately as the violin of Vivaldi's Violin Concerto in A minor, No. 6, opus 3. Without the rest of the strings, this sole violin should sound a tad emptier than the piece allows... But the player added such... Feeling.

Edward's mind flashed a picture of a girl with green eyes sitting in front of a piano, but it passed quickly.

He snapped his book shut, and rounded the corner to hone in on the player.

It was a girl, with long and nimble fingers, standing, awkward and lanky, next to an open violin case that was slowly filling with dollars from the forming crowd around her. She wore a plain outfit, nothing that would stand out, with faded jeans, a turquoise tank top, and regular black converses. The girl looked only about 13, maybe 14, standing at an average height, maybe a tad taller than she should have been, and incredibly boney and box-like. She could easily pull off being a boy, if it weren't for her average-looking, but feminine face, covered with ivory skin. What did stand out, not only to Edward, but to any one who might've passed this girl on the streets, was her hair.

It was kept short, in a boyish cut, choppy so it just shagged to her eyebrows, and passing over the tops of her ears. The color was orange. A bright, unnatural orange, tinted with mis-dyed red chunks that could blind someone if she passed in front of a bare light.

And yet despite her (mostly) drab appearance, the teenaged girl played with such a vigor, such a preciseness, and such awesomeness. As her slim fingers raced across the small neck of the violin, starting allegro, then largo, lastly presto, her eyes remained closed. In fact, she stood as still and picturesque as a statute; the only parts of her that moved being her arms, hands, and shoulders that swelled with every soulful breath.

Edward was awestruck.

The Concerto finished with a simple resolve, and the few of the crowd who hadn't pulled themselves away for their own needs, applauded. Finally, that musical angel opened her eyes, revealing stunning, bright green orbs.

Edward's jaw clenched, the skin around his eyes tightening.

It was that girl... That girl who could halt even the most determined of men with her music, then have them drop to their knees in tears if they truly wanted to. That violin player... Was little Cecille.

Although, she wasn't the little Cecille he remembered.

~~~

Edward must have stood there for another twenty minutes or so, listening to movement after movement from this solo violin. Cecille's talent had improved since she was seven.

He stood still as a statue, not even bothering to breath, through every swell of crescendo and decrescendo, every accented note... His eyes stayed fixated on her fingers flying over the four strings, bow in never-ending movement. Edward ignored the crowd around him, to the point where their thoughts were a mere breeze of praise for Cecille in the back of his head.

Throughout her performance, Cecille kept her eyes closed, as long has her bow as raised. She pointedly looked away from people who dropped bills into her violin case, which was now nearly overflowing. Instead of thanking them with words, she proceeded to another song, varying between sub-genres of classical. He heard them all, and recognized every piece... But in this near century he's lived... Edward had never heard these songs quite played like this.

The crowd thinned, and cleared. Edward didn't realize it was just him and the musician until she pulled the bow across the strings for a finale of B flat. Without a word to him, she crouched to collect the money now nearly overflowing the case.

He quietly approached her, noticing her murmuring thoughts of sleep, as she quietly gathered her bills, shoving them in her pocket.

"Hello," his whisper filled the quiet street. To any human, his voice was smooth, and very alluring. But, to his own ears (to any vampire for that matter) Edward's greeting was shaky and awkward.

Cecille's green eyes moved slowly over the pavement, to his designer shoes, up his perfectly ironed slacks, glancing past his Armani shirt, and finally reaching his golden irises.

"Beat it," was her curt response.

Edward, taken aback, returned with, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Beat it."

"I don't see why I have to--"

"Look," She stood, her tall stature still only reaching his shoulder. "You stood here throughout my entire performance, and didn't give me a cent. You don't look tight on money, so I'm going to assume you're just stingy. So beat it."

Edward truly didn't know how to reply, so as she bent again to grab the now cased violin, he dug his wallet from his pocket. Producing a few of the paper bills, he handed them out to her.

Cecille looked at the money, "That's... Way too much."

"Your music deserves it."

She seemed torn, between pride and value. Without speaking a word, she snatched the large sum of money, turned on heel and headed the way Edward had come from.

In a second, he was on her trail, "You played brilliantly."

"Hm." Was what he heard as she flitted into the cafe Edward had found himself at not long ago.

She grabbed a canned beverage from the large cooler shelves, and rushed to the counter. Sitting there was a bored-looking teenage boy, tapping a stray straw on the counter, keeping a beat of martyrdom. He perked a bit when Cecille entered, his generic features brightening. But, upon seeing her dark face, he bit back words of greeting, and rung up her drink. When he caught sight of Edward waiting just inside the entrance to the small establishment, an odd (odd to Edward, at least) thought crossed his head.

'Must be another one of her boyfriends...'

Yet, he ignored it, feeling more concerned with the change that had happened to the child that had stole his heart with her music and innocence years ago. Anyone who had met that little girl would feel protective of that level of sheer chastity. His heart fell at what she had grown into.

Cecille brushed past him, heading to the outside eating area. Once she found a table, she nearly slammed the violin down and took a seat. Edward attempted to approach again, but she scolded, "Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?"

"I just wanted to let you know how well you played--"

"I know I play well," She cut him off, now allowing him to approach again, and take a seat across from her, "That's why they give me money."

Resting his chin on his fist, Edward inquired, "Why did you come out so late to play? Don't street performers prefer the daytime?"

Popping the top of her drink, Cecille scoffed, "I take the tourist spots during the day. Big spenders are around the French Quarter after dark."

He nodded, amber eyes closely examining her face. It was obviously the same little Cecille, though her features had sharpened and grew with her age. The eyes were unmistakable.

The orange-haired girl grew uncomfortable in the silence, "Look, dude, I don't know what your motive is, but seriously, stop following me." She rambled on, "If it's sex you're looking for, I'm not that type of girl, but I know this place--"

Edward's hands quickly raised in defense, "No, no, that's not it..." He sighed, "I just want to know... What happened?"

The green eyes that had captured him this night squinted in confusion, "What do you mean, 'what happened?'"

"You were so lively, lustrously lively. What happened to the little girl who played piano?"

She grew noticeably nervous, "We've... We've met, I assume..."

"Don't you recognize me, Cecille?" He asked, thinking that his vampiric face had left an impression on the little girl, just as it had nearly everyone else he's acquainted.

Cecille visible stiffened at her own name, "Don't call me that..." She whispered, bowing her head to look down at the can clutched in her hand. "That's not my name anymore..."

Her thoughts became cloudy, full of repressed, saddening memories. Edward forced himself not to pry, instead asking the girl, "Then what should I call you?"

"Cadence..." She choked, finding her former strength once again, "Call me Cadence."