Caroline Rae

Needless to say, the week went by slow.

Alex indeed had sung for me, and he wasn't half bad. He was right on his pitches, which I was surprised about. Looks like his siren exercises paid off.

I honestly sat in my window seat until the early sun rise, trying to find an explanation as to why the band couldn't get signed. I hadn't exactly heard them play all together yet; that was taking place today. They all were great at their instruments. They could be better, but I didn't plan on giving step by step guitar and vocal lessons here. They knew enough.

I rose from my seat with a sigh and looked into the mirror at my reflection. The bags under my eyes never bothered me. I don't remember ever being much of a sleeper.

Sometimes things like this bothered me to the core. I don't have an answer as to why I'm so dull rather than 'my parents raised me that way'. But I knew the truth. My parents weren't long enough to really raise me. So why did I still act like this? It scared me to think about, so i didn't wander on the thought for long.

I got dressed slowly. I was to attend a piano recital for with old teacher of mine around nine, and I could say I was looking forward to it. Slightly.

I failed to mention this to the guest in my house, afraid that they would want to join me. They didn't know how to act at these things. I wouldn't let them be seen with me.

I know that sounded stuck up, but it's the truth. Where I come from, that's how it is. You don't speak unless spoken too, you sit with your back erect, and you don't touch people. Ever.

Imagining the stares I would get from people around me sent a shiver down my spine. Imagining the thoughts going through their minds at the sight caused my stomach to churn all together.

I smoothed over my dress before taking another look in the mirror.

Satisfied enough, I quietly walked down the stairs and into the garage. I didn't have many cars, simply because I knew nothing about them. They weren't my forte'.

I climbed into my pearl colored beamer and started it up. I ignored messing with the radio, scared of the distasteful music I would here.

Yes, all music was art in..some sense, but that didn't give people a right to make something so beautiful into something easily ignored.

I am more of a classical music type of girl, but I still listened to some somewhat modern pieces. Mumford and Sons was actually a favorite of mine. They put actual thoughts into their lyrics, complicated to figure out. They weren't too repetitive either. They were okay in my book.

I arrived about ten minutes early and let valets take my car. I was soon seated in my favorite balcony seat which already consisted of my first piano teacher.

"Caroline!" Miss Swanson rose from her seat. She was the acception of touching.

I hugged her by wrapping my thin arms around her small frame. At least I think that's how you hug.

The lights dimmed sometime after and we watched as the pianist swiftly moved their hands over the keys. She watched with interest accompanied by a slight smile on her lips. I couldn't help but turn up one end of my mouth slightly.

"I'm marrying him," she said, without taking her eyes off the man. I wasn't really surprised by this. She watched with such respect and gratitude that I wouldn't expect anything else.

Miss Swanson wasn't old. At all. She was my teacher when she was only seventeen. My age. She'd played shows everywhere, went to Julliard, and earned nation wide recognition. She was famous. After a couple years of lessons did she stopped teaching me due to hefty school work. I couldn't blame her.

I moved on to another teacher and continued to learn. We'd kept in touch and I saw her every couple of months. She usually came to the annual Christmas party held at my home.

I smiled at her while noticing the large diamond on her finger.

"Would you like to come?" she asked me softly.

"Of course," I whispered back.

We quieted then, never speaking until the show had ended and everyone clapped.

"He was amazing," I told her. She nodded with a gleam in her eyes. Small memories came back to me slowly while he played. Bits and pieces with images of his face. I remembered that they'd dated while she went to school in New York but split when she got big. The usual story.

After recovering my car, I drove back home with pleasant thought on my mind. The boys evaluation started soon, so I opted out of changing clothes. This was usually the normal for me anyways.

I found them all sprawled out on the floor of my closet. Jack asleep. I raised my eyes brows at them and the returned a sheepish smile. Jack was punched awake and even caught himself before cursing earning a pleased smile from me.

Our steps echoed throughout the room and over to the several instruments and microphone set up. Amps had been placed in the room and Jack's face lit up when they came into view. I sat in the couch opposite of them as they collected their instruments.

"Just play your best and imagine I'm not here," I informed them. They gulped and nodded, and I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach.

I remember how it was to be petrified of my teacher. Miss Swanson was never too hard on me, but my second teacher? Oh, my. My heart would pound when she entered a room and I often thought I would throw up. Beads of sweat would line my forehead as I played. It was a horrible experience all together.

They started playing and I had to restrain myself from wincing. It wasn't bad per say. They just weren't..connected. They were all playing in their own worlds with so much passion that they could start a revolution. They didn't need to be in their own worlds. They needed to be in one world, together. One place. One zone. One dimension.

When they played, they disconnected their selves from each other. They cut off all ties and played alone.

"We suck," Zack groaned, causing me to realize that they'd finished playing.

"No, no, no. You didn't 'suck'. You guys aren't playing together." I told them. They gave me confused stares.

"I mean, I counted beats and everything, I thought we were on time-"

I waved off Rian's note and explained to them my theory.

"Well, I can't really disagree with you," Jack admitted.

"I thought that's what you were supposed to do? Go into your own world?" Zack said. I shook my head.

"As a musician yes. But not as a band. You need to be in oneworld. Play together. You guys need to be aware of every single movement one of you makes. Hyper-attentive if you will."

They nodded, grasping the concept.

"I'm leaving." I told them. Their heads snapped up.

"When I come back in half an hour I want to see some improvement. We'll go from there."

They all groaned protests as I walked out of my closet. I turned around and locked the door with a smirk. Even if they wanted to, they can't leave. They should be okay though. There's a bathroom in there, and that's all they really need, right?

I walked to my desk in the corner of my bedroom and immediately started planning.

This whole band thing might be harder than I thought.