Treading Among the Stars

Everyone would have liked to think me a polite and quite girl who played violin quite nicely and had the potential to become a rising star. It was a wild fantasy filled with handsome men, competitive strangers, and musical talent. That was their image of the musical industry. I would be the mysterious, silent, dark-haired child prodigy who would rise above everyone’s ranks to become a charming soloist—inducing virtuosity that could cure cancer and bring someone stoic to tears.

That’s what everyone’s image is.

To people who know me, ‘mysterious, silent, and dark-haired’ are not words they would use to describe me. I’m quite the opposite so this image is always ruined when people look at me.

Plus, their child prodigy has an exotic and angelic name like Evangeline Raven-wing. Me? Not so much. My name is ordinary compared to all their fantasies.

Honestly, their fantasies are something out of a fantastical Japanese anime about mystical talent, soul-snatchers, and undying love. My life is something out of a girl who has a dream.

So my proper introduction would be something like:

Hi, my name is Luna Castro. I’ll be going to tenth grade next year, and I aspire to become a violinist in an orchestra—preferably the soloist. I also have really light blonde hair I inherited from my mom, and my teachers constantly complain about me being too distracted and unfocused in class. My friends think I’m loud, and my enemies think I’m rude. I can never, ever get a piece perfect until after the tenth try. A lot of people say I have no mystical violin talent—so to speak. All my talent is from hard work and tears that I’ve spent over the years.

That is definitely not what people are looking for.

“From the way you argue with people, I’d say you’re going to be some sort of hardcore lawyer,” Yvonne, one of my friends, told me. “That’s not really a good personality for the mysterious violin girl.” Being a serious manga/anime lover, she was where I got all this information about ‘not being the right personality type’ from.

Well, it wasn’t like I was actually a character from all the anime she watches.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I put my hand on the forehead in attempt to mitigate the blinding sunlight in my eyes. The music from the gym was still ringing faintly in my ears. Humming along to the phantom melody, I headed towards the unsightly burgundy van squeezed between two smaller cars in the parking lot. The trunk of the car was open and four adults and two daughters were standing around awkwardly.

Two of the adults were recognizably my mom and dad. Mom has the same long, silver-blonde hair, and Dad has neatly parted brown hair. My ten-year-old sister, Deirdre, inherited Dad’s genes while I took on Mom’s. Dee noticed me first. She smiled brightly, waving with such enthusiasm that I thought she was about to fall over. Of course, that kind of vivacity wouldn’t go unnoticed. The others all turned around to see me. I waved at them, smiling cheerfully.

“Luna!” my little sister shouted. “You were amazing!” I assumed that she was talking about the recent performance for the final day of school. School was officially over. Being in an arts-orientated school, it was typical of us to end off with some artsy display. In this case, the strings were playing music in the end. There wasn’t a soloist for our piece, so I didn’t have the pleasure of bragging about it. Still, being one of the students who were good enough to play the ten-minute piece all the way through without many pauses because of difficulty was something.

“Thanks, Dee,” I said, loading my violin case in the trunk. When I had placed it carefully inside, I turned around to examine the other three people my parents seemed to have been talking to.

The adults both had perfect blond hair, so it didn’t surprise me that their daughter had the same shade of blonde. They all had soft features and looked like the perfect example of an identical family. The only difference was that their daughter wasn’t smiling brightly. She frowned at her phone, making me wonder if she was waiting for a text message.

“Luna, this is Mrs. and Mr. Durand,” Mom told me. “They just moved here a week ago from a nearby town.” Her tone was cheerful, but had a warning undertone. She was telling me to be nice to them. I never took nicely to strangers, but I tried to be nice for her sake.

“Hi,” I told them with forced exuberance. “It’s nice to meet you. Will you be going to North Western Collegiate with me?” I directed this question at the girl. She looked to be my age, so hopefully she would be in high school. It would be embarrassing to make a wrong assumption. I didn’t think that would look good on my part.

She looked up from the screen of the phone, giving me a surprised look before she realized that I was actually talking to her. “Oh,” she said once she recovered. She had a quiet voice, and I instantly knew that she was not the type of person to speak up or let emotions get the better of her. “No, I’m going to Wisteria Heights.” She paused. “I’m Cecil.”

Wisteria Heights was the preppy school for preppy kids. “Oh, that’s nice,” I said, even though I didn’t really like many people in that school. They all felt so snobbish and intolerant to me.

There was silence for a moment and I wanted to break it before it turned awkward. “So I’d love to hang out over the summer and all,” I began, “but we have a camping trip to go to right now.” It wasn’t really a camping trip. All our suitcases were arranged in the trunk of the van. I doubted people bought suitcases on a camping trip.

Then again, I had never gone camping so I couldn’t really say anything about it.

“That’s nice,” Cecil said, nodding. Living in a town, I assumed that she was very close to nature that a camping trip would have to offer. On the other hand, living in a city had pretty much left me very attached to the luxuries and comforts of a big city.

Mom cut in for me. “It’s actually for science research,” she piped in. With Dad being a biologist, he was offered a summer in Littlepine Reserve for a month. Of course being the person he is, Dad demanded us to accompany him. Mom and Dee jumped at the chance. On the other hand, I was reluctant to go. Still, I didn’t really have a choice.

“Science research?” Cecil asked, her blue eyes widening in something I thought was fear. She began to fidget with the phone in her hands. “In biosciences?”

“Yes!” my dad said enthusiastically, nodding.

Cecil seemed to grow more worried by the moment. “Did a company called the Myriad Chrome Hive offer you this spot?” Her mom put a hand on her shoulder, and Cecil broke our gaze, staring down at the ground.

Dad frowned at the foreign name. “No. Why is that?”

“Nothing,” Cecil said, though it was obviously not ‘nothing’. She smiled; it looked forced. “It’s fine.”

Mom and Dad dismissed this and said their goodbyes to the Durands. Within moments, we were on the road. Dee was complaining loudly to Mom about the air conditioning, and Dad was humming while he drove. I sat at the backseat staring out the window and the blurring scenery, still humming the phantom tune that drifted through my mind.