Caroline Rae

I waited in the kitchen for Rian the next morning, and when her appeared, I led him to my room. He gawked at the amount of space.

I enjoyed my bedroom quite a lot. It fit me. The light yellow walls contrasted with the black and white pictures hung around everywhere. Most of them were originals, I use to photograph. My camera hadn't been touched in weeks though and I promised to myself I'd change that. Book cases that weren't really needed lined the walls. We already had three studies in the house, but I liked to have my favorites close to me.

The window seat was my favorite part. It over looked the garden my parents used to tend. The flowers always started blooming in early march, and I rarely missed the sight.

Rian looked to me in confusion as I stepped into my closet, but realization hit him as he saw me punch in the code to my music room. I stepped in, allowing him to follow, and awaited his reaction.

This is amazing," Rian breathed. I smiled slightly at his reaction.(the music room looks SOMEWHAT like this. Imagine it bigger, filled with instruments and a wall full of mirrors. Like a ballet studio I guess?)

"Why is your house so huge?" he asked.

"It's what my parents wanted," I said with a shrug. He nodded.

"And you're just here by yourself?" He asked again with a softer tone.

"I don't mind being alone. It gives me time to think." I replied with a sigh.He dropped the subject and walked over to the drum set located in another area of the room.

"So on a scale from one to ten, how would you rate your playing?" I asked casually.

"Maybe an eight," he shrugged. I nodded and smiled, motioning for him to start playing whatever he pleased.

Rian wasn't bad, at all. He had some rhythm issues, but they could be easily solved. He just seemed to have trouble adding his own stuff into his beats. Nothing major.

We basically goofed around the rest of the time, which was unusual for me. I played classical pieces while he would hit a steady beat. As my music grew more intense, so did his. We were both clutching our sides at the end of practice.

"Okay," I said between soft laughs, "I think it's time you leave." I led him out just in time to see Myrian arrive with Jack and Zack in tow.

Jack beamed at my music room while Zack just rolled his eyes.

"You expanded it I see?" he said with a smirk.

"Of course." I said with a curt nod.

They walked over to the numerous guitars and basses and picked which ever one their hearts desired. They played for a while, just goofing around, until I got serious.

"Jack, can you read sheet music?"

"Well enough," he shrugged. I nodded and handed him a book I'd used in one of my classes as a child of mere seven.

He sight read effortlessly, leaving me stumped. Zack was the same, he whisked through everything I threw at him. Alright then, it must be Alex.

It wasn't unusual for a bands bump in the road to be caused by their lead singer. He could still be working with his breaks in his voice, he may just not have what it takes. I'd find out soon enough.

After their lesson Jack looked up.

"How'd I do?" he asked with a child like expression. I smiled and looked up to him for the first time. They boy wasn't half bad. Sure, he had a short attention span and the maturity of a five year old at times. But he was free. His mind was open to anything, and he loved his band.

I respected him.

Before I knew it, our time was over, and Alex's lesson began.

He inspected every inch of the room without saying a word before plopping down beside me on the piano bench.

"How did you handle puberty?" I asked while idly playing as he watched intently.

"What?" he choked. I stopped playing.

"Your voice. How did you handle your voice change with singing?" I clarified. He nodded.

"Yeah, sorry. It was rough at first, I guess. I kind of got used to it." he answered while rubbing the back of his neck.

I continued playing. "Do you ever warm up before you sing?" I asked. He scoffed, so I took that as a no.

"Sing for me," I told him. His face reddened.

"I- Uh don't have anything prepared." I smirked.

"Of course you do,"

"No, I don't." He tried again. I wasn't buying it. I knew this game.

My fingers returned to the keys and played a complicated version of ode to joy while I thought.

"Why are you nervous?" I asked absent-mindfully.

"I'm not," he answered too quickly, and then cursed himself.

"You're...really intimidating." he admitted. I sighed and rested my aching hands.

"I'm not her to judge you any more than you're here to judge me." I told him while running my hands over the keys once again.

"I know that." he assured me. "You're just...you know what you're doing."

"Stuck up, you mean?" I smirked.

"No," he said honestly, causing me to look up. "I don't think you're stuck up at all. You were raised to be proper, and shielded, and....strong willed. No one really knows how to handle that." I was shocked at his words.

It was always assumed that I though I was better than everyone else. That's not the case in my opinion. I was raised by my parents, who kept everything formal. No one really spoke at breakfasts, we never went out together. But, I loved them. My parents were wonderful people, and I only wished I could remember my mother. She passed of cancer I'm told when I was a mere child, and all I have is photographs. I remember small pieces of my childhood, like my manners, my lessons, but there had always been a blur somewhere in the middle.

"I guess not," I told him.

"Look, why don't we just start with my singing tomorrow? For right now, we could just...I don't know, talk. Then tomorrow, I'd be more comfortable." He suggested. Though musicians need to learn to be prepared to sing at any moment, I agreed.

We talked for a while, nothing too serious.

"What's your favorite color?" he asked at some point.

"I don't know, really. What's the color of rain?" I responded. He was a little caught off guard at my answer.

"You're favorite color is rain?" he mused. I smiled slightly

"It's the only color that really seems to get me thinking," I told him. I really didn't pay much attention to anything unless it got me to think. I'd always been that way. Much of the world was useless to me.

Myrian for example, held my attention. After my mother passed, she'd stayed. She'd kept watch over me. She stayed behind to watch over her boss's child, and I never understood it. Therefore, I still spend my days trying to figure the woman out. I secretly prayed I never would.

"I see..." he said.

"Why do you have all these mirrors?" he asked, referring to the lines of mirrors on every wall. It could easily be turned into a ballet studio, even Jack questioned it. When I'd had it built though, everyone who constructed it never asked a thing.

I looked at Alex through narrowed eyes.

"I don't really know," I admitted. "I just wanted them here," I said with a shrug.

Alex smiled. "You fascinate me Jasey Rae."

"You amuse me Alex Gaskarth,"