#steinway grand piano

[trendynewsnow]

Pianist Julian Gargiulo's Struggle to Reclaim His Steinway Grand Piano

Morning Briefing: A Pianist’s Dilemma and the Impact of Trump’s Election Good morning. It’s Thursday. Today, we will explore the journey of a concert pianist’s treasured instrument after relocating from Paris to New York. Additionally, we’ll examine the potential implications of Donald Trump’s recent presidential election victory on New York City. Julian Gargiulo is currently a piano man without…

[markwood01]

The Enduring Legacy of Steinway Pianos in Today's Musical Landscape

Steinway & Sons has long been known for its amazing craftsmanship and great sound in the piano world. Founded in 1853, the brand has become a symbol of musical excellence, and even today, Steinway pianos still capture the hearts of musicians and music lovers alike.

In our digital age, where technology often takes the spotlight, Steinway stays true to its artistic roots. The company combines innovation with its traditional handcrafting techniques. The process begins with choosing the best materials, including carefully sourced wood and high-quality parts. Each piano goes through extensive testing and fine-tuning to ensure it meets Steinway's high standards.

One of the key ways Steinway adapts to the modern world is by using technology. The Spirio system, a high-resolution player piano, allows musicians to enjoy a new way to play. This system lets users play along with recorded performances or have their own music recorded, blending traditional playing with modern features. It’s a great example of how Steinway keeps up with the times while honoring its history.

Steinway pianos are also a popular choice in top music schools, concert halls, and recording studios around the globe. Famous artists and aspiring musicians choose Steinway for its rich sound and wide range of expression. The brand's dedication to quality attracts musicians who appreciate both its past and present.

The worldwide appeal of Steinway pianos has created a lively community of players, collectors, and fans. Steinway Society events and partnerships with well-known artists strengthen the bond between the piano and its audience, ensuring that the love for music and the art of piano-making continues.

In conclusion, Steinway pianos thrive in the modern world by blending tradition with innovation. As they continue to inspire musicians and enhance performances, Steinway & Sons remains a lasting symbol of quality and creativity in the music world.

[cowbuild]

July 2024 Set (2) - Steinway Classic Grand Piano

It's time for your Sims to experience the world's best piano, 'Steinway'. The CC piano was made to be as close to the original Steinway piano as possible. The actual price of this piano is $134,900. Hope you enjoy.💖🎶

PATREON

Reference

[preppyandpreppy]

[bakedbakermom]

SHE'S HERE SHE'S HERE MY ENORMOUS BABY IS HERE!!!!

This is a Steinway and Sons Style 1 Rococo grand piano built in 1864!!! The case is rosewood and the keys are actual ivory (pre-ban, obvs) and ebony. (Note: as an historical piece, she has special dispensation to be repaired with ethically sourced ivory. How cool is that?)

There are remarkably few of these still in existence, and fewer still that are in playable condition. She would be at home in a museum or concert hall, but instead she's in my living room!! She needs to be tuned, since 600+ miles in a truck would rattle anyone, but she sounds amazing even still.

I inherited her from my parents, who have recently had to downsize. As the only pianist in the family, I was designated as her new caretaker.

Some glamor shots:

Welcome to your new home, my beloved.

[pianotunerwolverhampton]

🎵 Tuning a 'Boston' GP 193 Grand Piano Designed by Steinway, built by Kawai in Japan to Steinway's specification 🎵

www.matthewjamesrichards.co.uk

#piano #boston #kawai #steinway #grandpiano #pianotuner #pianotuning #classical #musicians #classicalpiano #pianist #wolverhampton

[wekillitwithfire]

its actually incredible how many free pianos there are on facebook marketplace

[merriammusicinc]

Yamaha vs Kawai vs Steinway | Piano VST Comparison | Yamaha CFX vs Hamburg Steinway D vs Kawai SK-EX

Anyone whose been a subscriber to our channel or blog will know we’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of years exploring the world of piano VSTs. As a result, our resident piano reviewer and company president Stu Harrison has become something of a VST aficionado.

In today’s video and companion article, Stu will be joined by his wife Annie Bonsignore, who also happens to be a professional vocalist and frequent collaborator of Stu’s.

Annie is going to randomly toggle between three meticulously recorded VST instruments from some of the most well-known brands - Yamaha vs Kawai vs Steinway and some of their high-end models with the Hamburg Steinway D-274, Shigeru Kawai SK-EX and Yamaha CFX Concert Grand Pianos - to see if Stu can actually tell the difference between these three pianos without knowing which one he’s playing and hearing.

This should be a good test to see how our pre-conceived notions about a given instrument affect our musical perception of said instrument since Stu will not know which instrument he is playing.

We’ll get started here with a little bit of background information.

Yamaha vs Kawai vs Steinway - Background Information & Piano Design

Let’s start by covering some of the differences that make a Yamaha, a Steinway, and a Kawai different from one another. These are three of the most recognizable piano brands in the world, and in terms of full-sized concert pianos, their flagship concert grand pianos- the Hamburg Steinway Model D, Yamaha CFX and Shigeru Kawai SK-EX - are among the most commonly selected instruments by pianists who perform in concert halls and with symphony orchestras.

All three piano manufacturers and these specific pianos have a very interesting pedigree and interesting history, but for our purposes, what’s really important is to look at the major differences in the design and materials used in these instruments that contribute to the unique sound that they each produce.

We’ll take a quick look at each instrument.

Hamburg Steinway Model D Steinway Model D - VST UI

The Steinway & Sons Model D’s most people in North America are used to are of course New York Steinways which use Sitka spruce for their soundboards. Since we’re working with a Hamburg Steinway Model D Concert Grand Piano made at the Steinway factory in Germany here, the soundboard will be either be an Austrian or Bavarian white spruce. In either case, it would be slow growth, high altitude spruce grown in the 700 to 1,000-meter range, such as what would also be used in other high-end European pianos like a Bosendorfer or Steingraeber.

This soundboard material is different from what Yamaha and Kawai are using, and the Steinway has some other things that make it unique as well. For one, they use an inordinate amount of Hard Rock Maple in their inner and outer rims and feature a remarkably strong pinblock.

There are several aspects of Steinway design which make it unique. It uses an inordinate amount of Hard Rock Maple in their inner and outer rims, which gives it a very specific tonal flavor that is often described as a blended tone.

The Hamburg Steinway also has a treble bell, and in combination with the specific duplex scale, this tends to create a very particular treble experience with an ambient wash and well-defined attack. Steinway D’s are also known for having an extraordinary dynamic range to them, to the point that it’s almost impossible to make them distort.

Now, they’re not known for having the widest tonal palette compared to other fine instruments, but in terms of dynamic potential and ability to project across the range, they’re really quite exceptional and one of the main reasons Hamburg D’s are often cited as one of the top two or three concert pianos in the world.

Pianos from the Hamburg factory are also generally regarded as a tier above their New York counterparts, and that includes the Steinway Model B, Steinway Model A and Steinway Model M.

Shigeru Kawai SK-EX

The Shigeru Kawai SK-EX has borrowed quite a bit from the Steinway grand piano heritage, as have most modern pianos (fun fact, Kawai manufactures the Steinway sub-brand Boston). The SK-EX uses vertically laminated bridges, just like the Steinway does and a Hard Rock Maple cap, just like the Steinway does also.

The rims also feature some Hard Rock Maple, though not as much as the Steinway, and it also blends a number of other hardwoods as well. The SKEX does not use a treble bell, and the approach to the treble generally in the Shigeru is quite a bit different. The SK-EX also uses Sitka spruce, just like a New York Steinway but different from the Hamburg’s Austrian or Bavarian spruce.

The end result is a tone that isn’t as blended as the Hamburg Steinway, but at the same time, it’s not as clear and defined as a C.Bechstein or Bosendorfer’s tone. Really, it's sitting somewhere in the middle and is overall very warm but also very colorful.

It’s capable of both a very intimate sound but can also be pushed for serious fortissimo volume and power as well. In general, SK-EXs are often regarded as very versatile instruments which is why they’re so popular among

Yamaha CFX Yamaha CFX - VST UI

The Yamaha CFX first hit the market several years ago and served as the next-generation update to the CFIIIS concert grand piano, which was the Yamaha Corporation’s previous flagship model CF Series 9 footer.

That said, the CFIIIS was seen a step below a Steinway or Shigeru Kawai, whereas the new CFX is at a level where it can now properly compete with these other two concert grand pianos by upgrading the specs to what one would expect out of a top-tier instrument,

For instance, they’ve gone with a high-quality European spruce soundboard and are also vertically laminating their bridges. The rim consists of a blend of Beech and Mahogany for its own unique tonal experience as part of what they’ve called their Acoustic Resonance system.

They’ve also improved the piano wire and bass string material and levelled up their hammer design while going with a very realistic ivory substitute they’ve dubbed as Ivorite for the white keys and a matte finish for the black keys.

The end result is a tone that is still on the brighter end of the tonal spectrum, but the middle partials are much more present than they were previously. Overall, it’s a more natural sound than what Yamaha has been able to achieve in the past.

Note that the CFX is also available as the Disklavier Enspire Pro version (DCFX) which allows you to record and playback right on the CFX as a digital piano can.

Piano VST Comparison Kawai SK-EX - PIano VST Comparison

As mentioned above, we’re not going to be in a showroom playing the actual acoustic piano versions of these musical instruments, but rather VST versions. In the case of the Hamburg Steinway Model D and Yamaha CFX, we’re using the Vienna Symphonic Libraries Synchron engines, while for the SK-EX, we’re using the Kawai’s NOVUS NV5’s SK-EX Rendering Engine, which combines a multi-channel sample of the SK-EX with a resonance modeling engine.

The reverb is set up as similarly across the 3 samples as possible, and we’ve tried to make the settings as evenly as possible as well.

Stu’s Blind Playtest

We would definitely recommend checking out the video to see and hear the blind playtesting for yourself. In the end, Stu was able to guess 9 out of 10 right, only at first mistaking the Hamburg Steinway D for the SK-EX, but he would subsequently realize this and eventually change his answer.

Stu is obviously a gifted and highly experienced piano player, but it does speak to how distinct these three samples truly are with how accurate his blind play-testing proved to be.

Annie’s Ranking from a Vocalist’s Perspective

We’d also recommend checking out the latter portion of the video to hear professional vocalist Annie Bonsignore sing along with each sample and give her feedback as to how she would rank in terms of compatibility with a vocalist.

She ultimately enjoyed the SK-EX the most due to its warmth and very dynamic tonal range. She had the Yamaha CFX ranked second and liked it overall, she just, however, felt it was a little bit too bright and perhaps a bit like an upright piano.

In third, she had the Hamburg D as she felt it was least equipped to compliment the contours of the natural human voice.

Closing Thoughts

Thanks very much for reading! This has been a very interesting experiment comparing these three superb concert grand piano samples that we hope you’ve enjoyed.

The post Yamaha vs Kawai vs Steinway | Piano VST Comparison | Yamaha CFX vs Hamburg Steinway D vs Kawai SK-EX first appeared on Merriam Pianos

2359 Bristol Cir #200, Oakville, ON L6H 6P8

merriammusic.com

(905) 829–2020

[confronttheconfidencegap]

Traditional Family Room in Indianapolis

[a-roguish-gambit]

I put all the minis in/on a fancy, shiny Steinway grand piano!

They having fun…. Mini beast does not appreciate the disrespect of the piano however

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Wild Nights || CL16 {1}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x songstress!reader Summary: After getting dumped before your wedding you decide to take your best friend on your honeymoon instead and end up having a whirlwind romance. Warnings: 18+only, NSFW, smut, oral, angst WC: 2.3k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Epilogue

The memories of last night ran through your mind like a montage that was powered by a strobe light, disconnected images and snapshots that blinded you and left your head aching. You blinked against the bright sunlight flooding the bedroom you didn’t recognise and tried to suppress the groan of pain that came with the hangover you rightfully deserved.

You had drunk far too much but you deserved to let go and have fun. Getting dumped right before you were meant to be married definitely gave you a free pass to go wild so you kept the booking for your honeymoon in Monaco and took your best friend instead.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as you spotted your iPhone on the bedside table and found the battery dead. 

A soft snore had you freeze and you slowly turned to the sound with a racing heart as another memory resurfaced. The back of a head full of lush, thick dark hair rested on the pillow beside you and your eyes trailed down his spine to the curve of his ass that was obscured by the sheet hanging over his hip. 

Angry red lines marked the otherwise smooth skin of his back and you remembered the pleasure of that moment. It had been the first time in a long time that you hadn’t needed to fake the orgasm that rippled through you. You had forgotten the feeling until you had collapsed light headed among the fluffiest pillows you had ever laid your head upon and fallen into the deepest sleep in weeks.

You slipped quietly from the bed and tiptoed across the carpet, collecting your bra and panties along the way until you found your dress in the living room. You bit your lip as you skirted around a broken vase, remembering how - shit, what was his name? - how he had picked you up with surprising ease and sat you on the side table between the desperate kiss you were locked in. The shattering of the glass hadn’t even fazed him when your ass had knocked it off. 

You looked around the apartment as you crept to the front door, hoping to find some indication of a name, but the high end place must have been an AirBnB because there was nothing personal anywhere. The only notable item at all was a beautiful Steinway Grand Piano that you were envious of, wishing you had a few minutes to run your fingers across the ivory keys. 

The thought of playing the piano drew the whispers of a memory that you couldn’t quite clutch.

Arthur? The name rang a bell but you shook your head as you unbolted the door and grabbed your clutch that was waiting beside it. There had been an Arthur at the bar but you didn’t think it was him in the bed. There were a lot of guys there last night, a lot of names to remember, hopefully Bea could fill in the blanks when you found her. 

Your cheeks burned as you walked through the heart of Monaco, trying to figure out where your hotel was in the maze that was the city. You stuck out like a sore thumb among the men and women out enjoying a sunny Saturday morning and you swore some of them even pointed your way as you passed by. 

This took the walk of shame to a whole new level. 

Finally you reached the hotel and as a bonus you found the keycard had survived the night and was tucked inside your clutch along with your lipstick. Your luck seemed to be turning around as you took the elevator to the honeymoon suite and pointedly ignored the tv screen set to welcome Mr and Mrs Wallace.

The shower was running so you went straight into the bathroom, not even knocking since there was no need for privacy among best friends. “Bea, I just had the best sex of my life and I don’t even know his name.”

The water shut off and the steamed shower door swung open to reveal someone who was definitely not your friend. “Oh my god,” you gasped as you spun away. “Who are you?”

Bea stepped sleepily into the bathroom rubbing her eyes with a groan, “Shhh, my head is killing me babe.”

“Bea,” you whispered as you grabbed her shoulders and kept your eyes above them since she wore absolutely nothing. “There’s a naked man behind me.”

Her eyes darted over to the man who had at least wrapped a towel around his hips. “Oh, yeah, isn’t Monaco great?” 

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend again?” the man asked with a charming smile.

“Again?” you asked with a frown.

“We met briefly last night.”

“At the bar,” Bea explained, though it didn’t really help considering there were a lot of bars. “Y/N, this is…Pe…ter?”

You were a terrible friend for feeling relieved that she wasn’t sure of his name either and you exclaimed, “Thank god, I’m not the only one. What the hell happened last night? I half expected to find a tiger in the bathroom.”

“And instead you found a lion,” the stranger winked. “It’s Pierre by the way.”

“Stallion more like it.” Bea dragged her eyes over his body before holding her hands up in front of your face, her palms about 9 inches apart and nodding. “Seriously.”

Your jaw dropped and your eyes drifted down her body before you could stop them. “Where did you put that thing?” 

“Where didn’t I,” she fired back with a husky laugh before dragging you from the bathroom and jumping back into the only bed in the suite. “Tell me everything.”

“I only remember little bits, well, and one not so little, definitely not that big though,” you pointed out as you nodded your head to the man collecting his clothes from around the room. “Please fill in the blanks.”

“Oh that’s easy,” Bea laughed as she snuggled back into the blankets, tugging them all the way up to her chin. “We met Pierre and his friends at Casablanca.”

“Casablanca?” you couldn’t remember the name.

“Yeah, they had an open mic night.” You screwed your eyes shut knowing what was surely to come as Bea continued. “I signed us up and we fucking killed it, babe.”

You fell back into the pillow that held a masculine scent it hadn’t the night before and groaned at the new information. 

“You were really good,” Pierre complimented as he pulled his shirt on and pulled his phone from the pocket of his dress pants, turning to Bea. “Can I get your number?”

“Why?” she asked with a laugh. “We’re only here for a few more days, you don’t have to try to let me down gently. I won’t cry into my pillow because you didn’t call.”

He seemed a little shocked at the rejection and you thought maybe he actually had wanted to keep in touch but he recovered with a smile and pulled his shoes on. “In that case, I’ll let you ladies enjoy your afternoon. Bea, it was a pleasure.”

“That it was,” she said with a whimsical smile that told you it was an understatement. Her eyes trailed after him and she didn’t snap out of it until the front door clicked shut. “I think I love it here.”

“You just love hot guys,” you corrected.

“And this city is drowning in them, and they are probably all stinking rich too.” 

Bea reached for her phone on the nightstand and you remembered that yours was dead so you plugged it to charge in before scooting closer to her. You figured you could watch a few mindless Tik Tok clips with her  before dealing with the day ahead.

A few clips turned to dozens and you were in fits of laughter at a compilation of fails when Bea swiped up and you heard a familiar voice. Bea screamed and shoved the phone on your face, her finger pointing to the likes. “Holy shit!”

You grabbed her phone as the short video started again and saw the camera was mostly focused on the man who was playing the piano beside you. “It’s him,” you gasped as you showed Bea. “That’s who I went home with last night.”

“Woah, nice! He’s a stunner. I always told you, piano players and gamers are the best in bed. Something about those fingers…”

“Shhh, you horn dog. I need a minute of quiet.” You rubbed your temples as you were flooded with freshly recovered memories.

—

You side eyed Bea when you heard your name called out and the MC shielded his eyes from the stage lights as he searched the crowd.

“She’s right here!” Bea shouted and pushed you forward, the heels unsteady under your feet after all the shots you had taken. 

“I hate you.”

“You love me, now let’s go.”

Bea took her place at the upright piano while you grabbed an acoustic guitar that had seen better days from the stand and adjusted the height of the microphone stand. You were acutely aware of the crowd as you checked it was in tune and turned to Bea to see if she had a song chosen. 

She leaned towards the mic set up on a boom above the keys and gave you a wink that instantly made you suspicious. “I wouldn’t be your best friend if we didn’t dedicate this song to that piece of shit ex.” 

You grinned at the idea of slating him and heard a few cheers from the crowd that told you you weren’t alone in having a shitty ex or maybe they were fans of Olivia Rodrigo. “I guess that means we’re playing Traitor.”

Your fingers strummed the opening notes and the self consciousness faded away as you fell into the meaning of the song, letting all the hurt and anger fill your words. 

The bar emptied as the crowd shifted away from alcohol and filled the dance floor, their bodies swaying to the rhythm. Suddenly their voices joined yours as the chorus came to an end. “Guess you didn’t cheat, but you’re still a traitor.”

Your eyes lingered on a group of guys that seemed centered around one who stared back at you, his eyes swimming with emotions you knew intimately. His eyes held yours as he raised his bottle in the air, saluting with the camaraderie that came with the shared pain and you couldn’t help smiling back through the heartache.

The song had ended but when you made your way off the stage the MC had blocked it and asked the crowd if they wanted to hear another. The screams had reverberated the stage floor and Bea had already said yes, going so far as to ask the crowd for a song request. 

“The angstier the better,” she said. Quite a few shouts for Adele came up and she pointed at a young woman. “I love Someone Like You, but unfortunately I don’t know how to play it.”

“Arthur does!” One of the guys in the group said as he pushed his friend forward. 

“No I don’t, Charles plays all the sad songs,” Arthur said as he elbowed the man next to him, the man who you hadn’t been able to look away from since he raised his drink to you. 

—

“Charles,” you murmured as you remembered moaning the name, your fingers laced in his hair when he went down on you. 

“What was that?”

“His name is Charles,” you repeated as you pointed to the handsome man playing the piano, his eyes remaining focused on you the entire time. 

“Oh yeah, it’s all through the comments. He’s some racer or something, I dunno, never heard of him.” She shrugged and swiped off to the next video. “So are we going to lounge around here all day or hit the bars?”

Your stomach protested the thought of more alcohol and you shook your head. “Is there a third option?”

“How about the beach?”

“I can manage that, I’m just going to shower while my phone charges.”

“Good, you reek of hot sex and I’m lowkey upset you haven’t given me any juicy details.”

“The audacity,” you gasped as you thumped her with your pillow. “This whole apartment reeks of sex and my pillow smells like a french Chad. See, sniff it.”

“I’ll take that,” she said with a smirk before burying her face on the pillow and inhaling dramatically. “You have lived vicariously through my sexual adventures, sexventures if  you will, now it is my turn. So, spill the tea.”

You groaned as you covered your face but she wasn’t going to let you off that easily and she pulled them away. “He was amazing, and I’m not saying that because I was drunk because I remember everything after we got to his apartment.”

“I already gathered that much, I need details.”

“Okay, well, he ate pussy like a champ, honestly, I didn’t even have to ask - he just wanted to, and I actually came.”

Bea snorted and buried her face in the pillow to scream before looking up. “Babe, that’s what real men do, he who must not be named was just a lazy asshole who never took care of you like he should’ve.”

“Jesus, I didn’t realise this was what I was missing out on all those years.” You shook your head ruefully and sighed. 

“Forget him, you’re moving onto better things, fitter guys, and plenty more orgasms where that came from.” She leaned forward and pushed you almost off the bed. “Go on, my little whore, go shower so we can get out of here. You’ve made us girls proud.”

“You’re so fucking weird,” you said with a shake of your head as you made your way to the bathroom. 

“Normal is overrated!”

Click here for part two.

Tagging: @alwaysclassyeagle

[thatbloodymuggle]

READY TO RUN (viii)

EIGHT - AFFETTUOSO

SUMMARY: in a world where everyone has a predetermined match, JJ Maybank and Y/N Montgomery want nothing to do with theirs. it has to be a cruel joke; the universe forcing two people to love each other when they don’t know how.

PAIRING: jj maybank x reader / soulmate au

WORD COUNT: 8.4k

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: none this time :)

✰✰✰

According to Urban Dictionary, Sunday Scaries are the phenomenon by which you question your entire existence after a Saturday full of binge drinking. In your 18 years of existence, you had experienced a number of Sunday Scaries. But none could rival the torrent of dread, regret, and everything else in between that swept over you when you stirred awake on Kate’s couch the morning after your unfortunate blunder in the ocean.

You usually woke up foggy-minded after drinking. But today, the vivid memories flooded you before you even opened your eyes. You could see the vein protruding from Topper’s neck as he yelled at the Pogues. You could smell the stale beer spilled down your chest. You could feel the water dripping from JJ’s hair onto your face as he carried your limp body to shore. 

Suddenly, and all at once, you forced your eyes open, letting the harsh light of Kate’s living room drown out the onslaught of memories.

Your head lulled to the side as you assessed your surroundings. Topper’s zip-up was discarded on the chair across from you, but there was no sign of either of your friends. You lazily glanced at the ticking grandfather clock. 8:03 A.M.

You sucked in a deep breath as you reached for your phone, preparing yourself for the missing calls and texts from your family. Your brows cinched as you were instead met with an empty home screen. Much to your displeasure, your gut twisted when you didn’t find a certain blond-haired Pogue’s name flash across the screen. Against your better judgment, you sunk your nails into your thigh, just hard enough to wince. You waited a beat, and couldn’t help but feel disappointed when the action wasn’t returned.

You sighed and tossed your phone aside. You stared up at the ornate chandelier dangling above you. You gnawed your bottom lip as you mulled over your options. You could wait for Kate and Topper to wake up. But then you’d inevitably be badgered with questions you didn’t have the energy to answer yet. Alternatively, you could walk home, back to the place and people who had sent you spiraling yesterday. 

Both options sounded equally treacherous. Maybe you could sneak into your house, just long enough to freshen up. You could figure out the rest from there, you decided. You shut out any anxiety-inducing thoughts, and instead focused on your footsteps as you gathered your belongings and crept out of Kate’s house.

The beating sun was a welcome distraction as you stepped out into the Carolina heat. You moved mechanically along the side of the road, counting your steps in twos. You focused on the crunching gravel beneath your feet, the beading sweat kissing your forehead. Anything to keep the whirlwind of thoughts at bay.

Your calculated steps faltered as the Montgomery Mansion came into view. Still, you proceeded toward the ghastly Antebellum home, your head held high by a facade of confidence. You fought to keep your breathing steady as you approached the entrance. Your eyes flicked towards the side of the house, and you frowned upon noticing that your bike was missing from the rack. Strange, you thought to yourself.

You sucked in a deep breath before pushing the front door open as quietly as possible. Your shoulders slumped as you found no one in the entranceway.

However, your stint of relief was short-lived. A dreadful sinking feeling gripped you as you passed by the ballroom. The center of the marbled floor once occupied by an elegant Steinway grand piano was notably empty. Your knees buckled at the sight. Still, you propelled yourself towards the kitchen where you heard the unmistakable sound of your father’s bellowing cough. 

You could almost feel your cortisol levels spike as you turned into the entryway of the kitchen. Clyde and Margaret sat at the table, unbothered by your presence, as they indulged in their morning coffees and newspapers. 

"Where's my bike?"

Margaret paused momentarily before continuing to sip on her coffee.

"I sold it."

Her icy tone made your heart plummet to the pit of your stomach.

"And the piano?" your voice trembled as you spoke.

Margaret cleared her throat before taking another sip, "Sold that too."

You clenched your fists as you stood with your mouth agape. A cascade of anger and despair simultaneously engulfed you.

"You're fucking kidding me," you seethed. 

"Don't speak to your mother like that," Clyde snapped. You jumped as he slammed his mug down on the table, black coffee sloshing over the edges. "Seeing as empty threats mean nothing to you, your mother and I decided to take direct action."

You spoke through gritted teeth, "And how exactly do you expect me to practice for the showcase?"

"Not my problem," Clyde muttered as he mindlessly flipped through the newspaper on the counter.

"You can't," you blubbered, "You can't do this to me. This isn't fair!"

Margaret laughed dryly, "You want to talk about fair? Your father and I work tirelessly everyday to provide for you, and you have the nerve to drag us through the mud," she spoke sharply, "So long as you embarrass the Montgomery family name, you will not reap its benefits. If you're so determined to be independent of us, then have at it, Y/N. Be independent."

You fought back the tears welling up in your eyes, but couldn't stop your jaw from falling slack as Clyde shoved the pieces of your cut up credit card on the counter towards you.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat. You fumbled for your phone, and nearly dropped the device at your father's next words.

"Your removal from the Verizon plan will be effective at midnight."

Your hands trembled and your knuckles turned white with rage. 

"Fine," you spit, "Have it your way. See if I care."

They did not, in fact, care. Neither Margaret nor Clyde so much as twitched an eyebrow when you stomped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind you, shaking its hinges on the wall. Your previous plan of getting in and out as quietly as possible was long forgotten.

You sprinted up the spiral staircase and your chest heaved as you swung open the door to your bedroom. The smaller piano in your room was gone as well. Your heart dropped at the sight of the empty wall and carpet littered with pieces of sheet music. You fought back tears as you sank to your knees and gathered the discarded music pieces into a neat pile. You hastily shoved the pile of sheet music into your piano bag, and hauled a large suitcase from underneath your bed. You were frantic as you yanked clothes from your closet and threw them inside the open bag. Hangers clattered against the wooden floor, but you couldn’t care less.

The sheer shock of the situation allowed you to move on autopilot as you headed towards your bathroom. You shoved your bare necessities into another bag and tossed it inside the suitcase. You haphazardly zipped the bag shut and clambered out of the suffocating room. You didn’t care how much noise you made as you dragged the large suitcase down the staircase. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Dixie’s disgruntled voice sounded from the top of the staircase.

You didn’t spare your older sister a glance and instead opted to blindly flip her off.

You ignored the profanities spilling from Dixie’s mouth. You sucked in a deep breath as you finally exited the house. The wet heat was a welcome escape from the prison you were unfortunate enough to call ‘home’. 

You could feel your heartbeat in your ears as you fumbled for your phone. You quickly found Kate’s contact card and pressed the call button. You waited with bated breath as the phone rang, and your shoulders slumped with relief when Kate’s disgruntled voice finally replaced the tone.

“Y/N, what–”

“Can you come pick me up from my house?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip as you heard Kate shuffling around.

“When did you even leave? I didn’t hear you,” Kate spoke through a yawn, her raspy voice indicating that she had just woken up.

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” you spoke hastily, “Can you please just come get me? I promise I’ll explain everything.”

You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as Kate finally responded, “Yeah, yeah. I can be there in 10.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Kate swiftly replied before ending the call.

You sighed as you put your phone away and began hauling your luggage down the driveway. This wasn’t the first time you’d packed a bag and left the Montgomery mansion; but the last time you ‘ran away’ was when you were eight years old, and you lasted a whole 10 minutes on the curb before begrudgingly returning. This time was different. This time, there was a sense of cruel finality to it all.

You paused as your phone buzzed. You halted abruptly and dug it out of your pocket. Your lips turned downward slightly at the picture of Sarah Cameron on your screen. With your mind elsewhere, you swiftly rejected the call and continued your walk down the driveway. But before you could take another step, it rang again. Your thumb hovered over the ‘decline�� button, but your guilty conscience was too strong. With a sigh, you accepted the call before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Y/N?” Sarah’s voice rang through the device.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you spoke coolly.

“Thank God you picked up. I was so worried about you and I’m so so fucking sorry about last night, I never should have left you out there like that. It was so dumb and I–”

“It’s okay, Sarah,” you cut off her rambling, “Seriously, you don’t need to apologize.”

Sarah let out a sigh of relief, “Of course I do. But the most important thing is that you feel okay.”

You hesitated before replying, as you were reminded of the throbbing pain in your head the previous night, “Yeah, I’m feeling better. I’ve just got other things on my mind right now.”

“Oh, um, yeah. You know if you need anyone to talk to–”

“Not that,” you were quick to cut Sarah off. 

You knew the metaphorical cat was out of the bag, but the last thing you wanted to talk about in that moment was JJ. You had a feeling that if you even let yourself think about him, you’d spiral all over again.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, “It’s just, um, I might not be reachable for the next few days.”

“What do you mean ‘not reachable’?” Sarah replied.

You sighed and sat on top of her suitcase, “My phone plan’s getting cut off at midnight.”

“Okay,” Sarah dragged out the word, “Well I can just swing by your place until you get it fixed.”

“No, don’t,” you quickly interjected. 

“You know, if you don’t wanna see me you can just say that,” the hurt in Sarah’s tone was evident, and it made your stomach twist. 

“It’s not that, Sarah, I promise,” you sighed before continuing, “I just got into a fight with my parents and they’re cutting me off for the time being.”

You pulled your phone away from your ear with a grimace as Sarah’s shriek sounded through.

“The fuck do you mean ‘cutting you off’? They can’t do that! And I can’t possibly imagine anything you could’ve done or said to warrant that. This is insane, Y/N, you’ve gotta–”

“Gotta what, Sarah? What the fuck am I supposed to do?” your voice wavered as you shut your eyes to force back the tears threatening to escape, “I brought this onto myself, and now I have to face the consequences.”

Sarah spoke with a pained sigh, “Y/N…”

“Kate’s picking me up. I’ll be at her house for the time being, in case you need me,” you paused as you watched an unmistakable Range Rover pull into the driveway, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait–” Sarah’s voice abruptly cut out as you ended the call. 

The disgustingly large vehicle halted in front of you, and you didn’t hesitate to lug your belongings over to the trunk. A very messy-haired Topper was quick to jump from the driver’s seat, wordlessly helping you load the bags into the car. You all but ran into the car, swiftly shutting the backseat door behind you. You avoided Kate’s worried eyes in the rearview mirror, and instead opted to fiddle with your seatbelt. Topper coughed awkwardly as he returned to his seat behind the wheel and drove the car from the driveway back onto the street.

The car ride was filled with a suffocating silence that left you gasping for breath when you finally arrived back at Kate’s home. The crisp air gave you little reprieve as you swung open the car door. Kate and Topper silently helped you gather your things and bring them inside. You could feel their burning gaze, but you ignored them. As soon as they’d set down your bags in the living room, Kate softly grabbed your hand. You let her lead you down the hallway, up the stairs, and into the safety of her bedroom. Topper trailed behind, but upon Kate’s warning glance, he opted to occupy himself elsewhere in the house, leaving the two of you alone.

You crawled into Kate’s unmade bed, ignoring the lingering smell of Topper as you wrapped yourself underneath the covers. You waited until you heard the click of Kate’s door shutting behind her before finally breaking the awkward silence.

“I know you have a lot of questions. Just ask them,” you spoke slowly in an attempt to keep your voice steady.

Kate sighed as she crawled under the covers beside you, “I honestly don’t even know where to start, Y/N. I’m so worried about you.”

You swallowed down the lump in your throat as you turned your body to face Kate’s and met her wide-eyed gaze.

“I don’t know where to start either. I just feel so…so–” you paused as the quiver in your voice betrayed you, “Lost.”

The soft touch of Kate’s hand brushing back your hair was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You shut your eyes tight as you felt the first tear trail down your face, quickly followed by another. You allowed yourself to be engulfed in Kate’s soothing touch as you buried your face into your friend’s shoulder. The two of you remained entangled in one another as you silently sobbed, your tears soaking right through Kate’s sweatshirt.

She rubbed soothing circles into your back until your breathing steadied, and your tear ducts had emptied.

“You can start wherever you want,” Kate whispered once she’d sensed you had calmed down.

You gulped in an attempt to moisten your dry throat.

“I guess I’ll start from the beginning,” you rasped.

Kate listened intently as you detailed the events from the past few weeks, from the first night at the Kegger to your fight with Anna. Once you started speaking, you couldn’t stop. All of your pent up frustrations, your unwelcome thoughts, came tumbling out, all at once. By the time you had detailed the interaction with your parents that morning, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. For the first time in weeks, you could breathe a bit easier, see a bit clearer.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you in the dark through all this, Kate,” you whispered.

You studied the cinch between Kate’s brows and tried to decipher the emotion swimming in her big, brown eyes.

“Please, don’t apologize. You told me when you were ready and that’s what counts,” Kate paused before continuing, “You know you can stay with me for as long as you need. Betsy is in Europe for the summer so you can even have the whole guest house to yourself, if you want.”

You nodded appreciatively. You pulled Kate into a tight hug which was instantly returned. You allowed the scent of her lavender shampoo to flood your senses, providing you with some semblance of comfort.

“As for JJ…”

Kate paused as she felt you tense in her arms.

“I know. I know it’s not right. We’ll never work together and we’re no good for each other. I just need some time to navigate the soulmate bond, find a way for us to go on with our separate lives without��”

“Y/N, shut up.”

Your lips parted in shock as Kate shoved you away and held you firmly by your shoulders. You felt like shrinking under her resolute stare.

“That’s not how soulmate bonds work. You can’t ignore it or fight it until it goes away. It’ll only become stronger and more painful if you keep going like this–if you keep going like this, it’ll tear you apart,” Kate spoke with conviction.

You gnawed your bottom lip in thought, “So, what then? I just give myself completely to the biggest douchebag on the island? If I run off with a Pogue, I might as well kiss my family, my life here, everything I’ve worked so hard for goodbye.”

Kate sighed and ran a manicured hand over her face, “I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. But I can tell you that what you’re doing now is not a solution.”

You groaned in frustration. You ran your hands through your hair, tugging harshly at the roots as if doing so would pull the right answer from your mind. 

“It has to be a mistake,” you cried, “Aren’t soulmates supposed to be the ‘perfect fit’? We’re anything but. We live different lifestyles, we have different values, we like different things–we have absolutely nothing in common.”

“Maybe you haven’t found anything in common with him because you haven’t allowed yourself to try,” Kate’s words crashed over you like the wave from the night before.

You opened your mouth to protest, but nothing came out. 

“You know, I couldn’t imagine resisting my bond with Topper. I know it’s different, but still. I can’t even begin to picture the agony that would cause,” Kate’s harsh tone had shifted into something softer, gentler, “I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. You’ve gone through life for so long with other people making your decisions for you. And as agonizing as this whole situation has been, it’s something that you, and only you, have complete control over. This is one decision that no one else can make for you.”

You flinched as Kate’s words struck a chord deep within you. As much as you hated to admit it, Kate was right.

“I know you know I’m right,” Kate cracked a small smile at your awe-struck face, “You don’t have to say anything–just think about it.”

You simply nodded in response. Your shoulders slumped in exhaustion as you leaned back against the headboard of Kate’s bed.

You jumped slightly at the sound of a sharp knock on the bedroom door.

“Kate? You in there?” Mrs. Moore’s muffled voice sounded through the door.

“Yeah,” Kate called as she scrambled from her bed.

“You have some visitors.”

You subconsciously shrunk under the covers as Kate opened the door to follow after her mom. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you mulled over Kate’s words, which seemed to echo ceaselessly in the chasms of your mind.

“Mind if we crash the party?”

The lilted tone of Sarah Cameron’s voice shook you from your thoughts.

Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of Sarah and Kie at the doorway, with a visibly tense Kate lingering behind them.

“We come bearing gifts,” Kie’s soft tone eased some of the tension in Kate’s shoulders.

You cracked a small smile at the basket of chocolate and Cheez-Itz in Kie’s arms.

“How’d you know Cheez-Itz are my kryptonite?” you teased.

Sarah and Kie grinned, taking your smile as an invitation to stay. You gratefully took the basket from Kie and gestured for the two girls to join you on the bed. Kate hesitated before joining as well so the four girls sat in a circle.

“Well you were practically on your knees begging for them last night so I took a gander,” Sarah giggled as you ripped open the box and greedily scooped out a handful of the orange pieces.

“We just wanted to check in, see how you’re doing,” Kie added. She shifted slightly under Kate’s warning gaze. You gathered that Kate must have told the two girls not to ask about JJ before entering.

You forced a tight lipped smile through your mouthful of Cheez Itz, “I’m doing okay.”

Sarah nodded and ran her hands nervously over her thighs. You could tell she was itching to say something.

“Spit it out, Sarah,” you rolled your eyes.

“I really hope you don’t mind, but I filled Kie in on your, um, situation with your parents,” Sarah spoke quickly, “And she had a really great idea to help you out.”

You frowned, “I don’t need charity, guys. Seriously. I appreciate the snacks and all, but I’m not taking anything from–”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Kie interrupted you, “When Sarah told me your parents sold your piano,” you shifted uncomfortably and Kate inched closer in a protective manner, “I thought about the piano we have at my dad’s restaurant. I asked him about it since no one really uses it, and although he said we can’t just give it away, he did say that he’s been trying to get a live music gig going at The Wreck for some time now. I told him how good you are at piano and that you’re looking for a place to practice. He said he’d love to have you play there a few nights a week, and in exchange you can use it whenever you want after hours to practice. And you’ll be paid, of course.”

Your eyes widened and your mouth fell agape. 

“I know it’s not perfect, but I thought maybe–”

“It is perfect,” you cut her off. You let out a breathy laugh, “It’s totally perfect! When can I start?”

Kie grinned and clapped her hands together in excitement, “Whenever you want. We have all the equipment set up, but if you need to take a few days to sort out what you’ll play–”

“Can I start tonight?” you cut her off again with an eager grin.

Sarah laughed, and Kate couldn’t help but crack a smile at the drastic improvement in your mood.

“Well, yeah, I just figured you might want some time to prepare.”

“She’s our little musical virtuoso. She doesn’t need time to prepare,” Kate chimed in with a soft smile.

You rolled your eyes, “Virtuoso is a stretch. But I’ve definitely got some tricks up my sleeve.”

“Don’t be modest. We all know you’re a shoe in for Julliard, and in five years time you’ll be performing in Carnegie Hall,” Sarah scoffed.

You flushed and shook your head with a laugh, “Only if you’re there watching.”

“Are you kidding? We’ll be sitting in the front row!” Sarah nudged you as she stole a handful of Cheez Itz from the box in your lap.

The group of girls continued chattering until their stomachs hurt from the combination of non-stop laughter and influx of chocolate and crackers. You were grateful for their company. Your heart fluttered as you watched Kate slowly, but surely, warm up to the two Kooks dressed in Pogue’s clothing. For a few hours, you were able to take your mind off your soulmate, your family, and your academic future. For a few hours, you were shielded from the dark cloud that seemed to follow you everywhere you went. 

And you embraced the fleeting escape with open arms.

✰✰✰

“So this is the musical protegé you two have been singing praises of?” Mike Carrera’s booming voice enveloped you like a warm blanket.

Sarah and Kie nodded enthusiastically behind you as you smoothed the front of your dress. You sent him a nervous smile and extended your hand, “Yes, Sir. Y/N Montgomery.”

The older man gripped your smaller hand in a firm shake and sent you a dazzling smile, “Mike Carrera. I’ve heard so much about you–it’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.”

You grinned, your nerves slowly settling at his welcome.

“Follow me, I’ll show you the set up,” he gestured a hand towards the opposite end of the restaurant where a lone, upright piano stood proudly in the center of a small stage. 

You trailed behind him. You had to stifle a giggle as you caught Sarah and Kie helping themselves to the tap beer at the bar while Mike’s back was turned.

“Got it tuned just last week, so should be in tip-top shape,” Mike rested an arm over the top of the Yamaha.

You nodded and ran your right hand lightly across the keys. You couldn’t fight the grin tugging at your lips as you played a few chords in succession. 

“Dinner opens at 5 and we start closing up at 9. 10 on Saturdays and Fridays,” Mike drummed his fingers along the oak wood, “We’d love to have you come in on Fridays since they’re the busiest, and two other days of your choosing.”

You nodded as you set your tote bag full of sheet music to the side, “That sounds perfect.”

“I was thinking $200 per night,” Mike added.

Your eyes bulged and your lips parted in surprise. 200? You had been expecting $20 per hour, at best. 

Mike’s brows furrowed, “If 200 seems too little, we could discuss–”

“No, no, 200 is perfect. Amazing,” you rushed out, “I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Mike flashed a toothy grin, “Thank you. We’ve been looking to get some live music back up in the joint for a while now. You’re just what we need to get this place really running again.”

You flushed and shook your head as you felt a rush of warmth creeping up your neck, “Well I sure hope I can help with that.”

Mike pushed off the piano, “Kie also mentioned that you need a place to practice. You’re welcome to come in anytime in between lunch and dinner hours, or before and after closing. Whatever floats your boat–the Wreck is your oyster.”

You giggled at his fatherly mannerisms, “Thank you so much, Mr. Carrera. Do you mind if I practice for a bit now before you open up for dinner?”

He raised his arms in surrender and took a dramatic step back from the instrument, “Don’t let me stop you. Have at it.”

You sat on the bench and fiddled with the knob on the side, adjusting the height so your arms fell at a precise 90 degree angle on the keys. You glanced over your shoulder and giggled at the sight of Sarah and Kie leaning across the bar with their heads in their hands, eagerly awaiting the sound of your playing.

You turned back towards the piano and dug out a few pieces of music from your bag, arranging them in the order you’d need. You took a deep breath to steady yourself before letting your fingers fall gracefully over the white keys. You breezed through a few warm up exercises to get accustomed to the unfamiliar instrument. The keys were a bit stickier than the ones you’d grown accustomed to on your Steinway at home, and the pedal a bit more finicky than the one at Madame’s house. Still, this instrument was marvelous in its own way.

You ran through a few pieces you planned on playing before pulling out the dreaded piece you’d neglected to practice the past few days. Your whole body trembled at the mere sight of Chopin’s Fantaisie Impromptu Op. 66. There was no chance in hell you’d be playing the piece that night. But as the events of the past 48 hours had kept you distracted from your duties, you knew you had to get at least a good 30 minutes of practice in.

You twisted your neck, rolled your ankles, and shook out your hands in a poor attempt to keep your Chopin-induced anxiety at bay. 

Unsure where to start with the monstrous piece of music, you decided a quick run through would help identify the problem areas that needed the most attention.

The issue? The whole damn thing was a problem area.

You drilled each measure, each line, over and over. You flicked on a metronome to help keep you on beat. You ignored the growing ache in your hands and kept on.

Minutes away from giving up, you flipped back to the first page of the music. You craned your neck behind you and called out, “Hey, Sarah?”

The Cameron girl nearly fell out of her stool in surprise, and you suppressed a laugh at the sight.

“What’s up?”

“Do you think you could come help me out for a minute?”

Sarah hopped from the barstool and skipped over to the piano with a grin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things, but music is not one of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, “I just need you to turn the pages for me. You don’t need to read the music or anything–I’ll nod at you when I want you to turn the page.”

Sarah shrugged, “Sounds easy enough.”

She set her beer down on the top of the piano, but quickly removed it at your razor sharp glare. Instead, Sarah opted to set it down beside her feet.

You inhaled deeply through your nose, and exhaled through your parted lips. 

You rested your fingers on the keyboard and counted off in your head before playing the opening set of notes.

Sarah watched you intently, careful not to miss your subtle cues to turn the page. 

Six torturous minutes later, you finally played the last chord. Sarah immediately erupted into manic applause and cheering.

“That was fucking incredible!”

Simultaneously, you released a guttural groan and slammed your hands down on the keyboard in frustration.

Sarah’s cheering halted abruptly and her brows cinched together in confusion, “What’s wrong? That was perfect!”

You shook your head and snatched the music book from the stand, snapping it closed.

“Far from it.”

“What do you mean? That was the first time you made it all the way through! I mean, I don’t know music but I didn’t hear you make any mistakes or–”

“I didn’t make any mistakes,” you sighed, “But it’s all wrong.”

Sarah cocked her head in confusion.

Your tired eyes met hers. You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to find a way to explain your frustration, “It’s choppy–all cold and mechanical. Everything is right, but there’s no feeling. I have the technique down, but it’s just not flowing through me like I need it to.”

Sarah’s doe eyes swam with bewilderment. She nodded, although you knew she hadn’t understood. 

“Opening in 5!” Mike’s booming voice sliced through the air.

You sighed as you stood from the bench and cracked your back. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you smiled softly at Sarah, “I’m not planning on playing that one tonight anyways.”

Sarah smiled back and returned to her seat at the bar which she and Kie were soon to be booted from as customers came in.

You took a sip of water from the bottle you’d set beside the bench as you prepared yourself for a lengthy performance. Your gut churned as the minutes ticked by. You rarely experienced stage fright, as 16 years of playing had almost entirely numbed you to it. But you’d never been on stage for more than 30 minutes at a time, and 4 hours was a far cry from it.

As the clock struck 5, you settled yourself back onto the bench and prepared your first piece of the night: Chopin’s Waltz No. 7 in C-Sharp Minor, Op. 64 No. 2

The clinking of glasses and cutlery, and soft chatter of customers provided an ambiance you had never experienced while playing before–but one you enjoyed, nonetheless. 

As the closing chords sounded through the restaurant, you were met with a bit of scattered applause. You smiled and couldn't help but sneak a glance behind you. The restaurant was slowly, but surely, starting to fill up. A young boy, no older than eight, sheepishly approached you with a dollar bill in hand. He stood on his tiptoes and dropped the bill inside the tip jar Kie had placed atop the piano while you weren’t looking.

You grinned down at the boy and mouthed a ‘thank you’. A pink blush swept over his chubby cheeks, and he scampered back to his parents.

You returned your attention to the instrument before you. You moved on autopilot as you breezed through the first few pieces in your set for the night. You had carefully picked out a selection of classical, jazz, and contemporary pieces to ensure a variety of genres. You had even thrown in some modern classics everyone would know, from A Thousand Miles to Bohemian Rhapsody. You fought to contain your laughter as Sarah and Kie obnoxiously sang along to the famous Queen anthem.

Completely immersed in the music, you hadn’t even noticed the arrival of a familiar band of Pogues.

“So this is the surprise you two were going on about?” Pope grinned as he and John B approached Sarah and Kie’s table. 

“Isn’t she incredible?” Kie beamed.

Kie’s smile dropped as she noticed JJ lingering behind the two boys. His face was white as a sheet as he stared in shock at the stage.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked Pope and John B.

A cloud of tension brewed over them as JJ’s eyes snapped to Kie’s.

“You didn’t think to mention she was gonna be here?” he snapped.

Sarah frowned as her eyes set into a menacing glare, “We know if we said something you’d pussy out. Can you get over yourself, just for one night? There’s no point denying it, it’s so obvious you two are soul–”

Sarah yelped as John B elbowed her sharply, effectively cutting her off.

She narrowed her eyes further as a snarl accompanied JJ’s fury-filled glare, “Fuck this. I’m out of here.”

He swiveled on his heels, but Kie grabbed his elbow and yanked him back towards the table.

“Cool it, dude. We’re just gonna grab some dinner. You don’t need to talk to her.”

JJ opened his mouth to protest, but Kie cut him off, “And John B’s your ride, so you’re stuck with him.”

JJ glared at his group of friends. Pope and John B studied the menu as if they had never seen it before to avoid his menacing stare.

“Fine,” he spit. JJ made sure to take the seat furthest from the stage. “But you’re buying me a beer.”

Kie’s shoulders slumped with relief as she’d effectively deterred his impending explosion, “Deal.”

The Pogues immediately began chatting in an effort to brush past the awkwardness. But JJ couldn’t bring himself to focus on Sarah’s complaining about her brother, or Pope’s in-depth review of the most recent season of Survivor. Despite his best efforts to ignore the display behind him, the only thing he could hear was the ethereal melody of Liszt’s Liebestraume No.3. Although he couldn’t see you, his mind was flooded with pictures of you; memories of you at the piano in your room. He could see the curvature of your elbows, the grace of your fingers gliding across the keys, the crinkles of concentration between your brows, the–

“What the fuck is this?” JJ spluttered at the acrid taste of beer he had subconsciously sipped.

Kie stifled a laugh, “It’s a new IPA my dad’s testing out. This local brewery has been pushing to get on the menu.”

JJ fought back a gag and pushed the pint far away from him, “Well you should tell Mike this shit fucking sucks.”

“Ay, don’t be soft now, J. I thought you could handle your alcohol better than that,” John B teased his childhood friend with a grin.

“Piss off,” JJ grumbled.

He pushed himself out of his seat, and wandered over to the bar to replace the disgusting beer Kie had served him. JJ caught the attention of one of the bartenders he knew well, and waited patiently as the worker subtly slipped him his favorite Pale Ale. As he sipped on the pint, JJ couldn’t help but sneak a glance towards the stage. His lips pursed as he watched Pope approach the piano with a dollar bill in his hand.

“You take song requests?”

Pope’s deep voice made you jump in your seat as you rearranged the sheet music before you. You grinned widely at the Pogue towering above you.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not playing the Star Wars intro for you,” you teased with a subtle smirk.

He clutched a hand against his heart and stumbled back dramatically, “You wound me, Montgomery.” Pope dropped the crumpled up dollar bill inside your now nearly full tip jar, “How about Piano Man?

You laughed, “Didn’t take you for a Billy Joel fan, Pope.”

He shrugged with a smug grin, “What can I say? I’m a fan of the classics.”

Your joyful gaze lingered as he sauntered back over to his table. However, your gut wrenched as you noticed the absence of ruffled blond hair at his table. Still, you shot the rest of the Pogues a timid smile before turning your attention back to the instrument in front of you.

Piano Man. You weren't sure when the last time you’d played the Billy Joel classic was–it must have been years ago. Nevertheless, you straightened your slumped posture, shut your eyes, and let your hands fall along the keys. You could feel the crowd behind you perk up as you played the familiar opening melody. You were forced to stifle your laughter as you heard the Pogues singing along behind you. The onlookers in the busy restaurant broke into applause as the song ended. No one cheered louder than Pope, who had recruited the bartenders into a kick line by the end of the song.

“That’s my little virtuoso!” Sarah shrieked.

You turned back with a toothy grin to wink at your friend. But the curve of your lips faltered as you caught sight of the tousled blond hair you’d been searching for all night. You sucked in a breath as his head turned and his eyes met yours.

Something deep within you churned at the sight of his ocean blues–a sweltering desire only he could pull out of you. Although his eyes were trained directly on you, his gaze was elsewhere; somewhere far beyond the confines of the restaurant, or the island for that matter. Your brows furrowed as you surveyed him, trying to decipher the emotion hidden behind his glassy eyes. But the mask of indifference he’d adorned for the night was impenetrable.

Before you could locate any cracks in his hard exterior, JJ swiveled back towards the table. 

Your hands trembled with a swirl of anxiety, frustration, and longing. It had only been 24 hours since you’d last seen him. But his absence had felt striking. For years, you’d prayed to all things good and holy to be rid of his bond. You’d wished for just one day void of his every feeling. For the first time in your life, you realized, you hadn’t felt him all day. No punches, no stubbing toes, not not even the swift slap against your thigh when you cracked your knuckles. You’d finally gotten your wish. 

But you’d take the sickening crunch of bones underneath your knuckles a hundred times over not feeling anything at all.

A switch flipped within you. You forced your eyes away from the back of JJ’s head, and instead looked at Sarah. You cocked your head, gesturing for the Kook princess to come over. Sarah swiftly set down the beer she’d been sipping on and approached you.

“What’s up? Are you okay? I can tell him to leave–”

“No, don’t,” you cut her off, “You mind turning the pages for me again?”

Sarah’s eyes widened as you pulled out the piece you’d been pouring over earlier before the restaurant opened.

“I thought you said you weren’t ready to play that one yet?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever feel ready,” you mumbled as you placed the book on the stand, “But now’s as good a time as any to try.”

Sarah nodded and positioned herself to the side, staring intently at you to ensure she didn’t miss your head nodding cues.

Your eyes fluttered shut. But this time, you didn’t count down in your head. You didn’t visualize the opening phrase, or the notes on the page. Instead, you let yourself think back to the night before. The feeling of JJ’s strong arms wrapped around your sobbing body. The fear in his eyes as he carried you to shore. The snarl on his lips as he yelled at you in the country club bathroom. You lowered the carefully constructed levee in your mind, and let all your memories of him come flooding in. 

Your eyes flicked open, and you began without a second thought.

This time, the notes symbolized each word you’d exchanged with JJ. Your right hand played your biting tone, and your left played his gruff voice. They spoke to each other. They fought, and they cried. But they sang together in perfect unison. 

Sarah watched in awe as you moved with a fervor she had never seen before. She swiftly flipped the page at each subtle nod. Sarah wasn’t the only one captivated by your performance–the previously uninterested customers had diverted their attention to the piano player on stage, and every conversation seemed to hush. 

As you played the ending phrase of the piece, you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. Your eyes remained shut as you let the final notes ring through the restaurant until they naturally concluded.

You were brought back to reality when the remaining customers erupted into applause. 

“That was perfect,” Sarah gleamed down at you.

You let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah. It was.”

You craned her neck back towards the table of Pogues. While the smiling faces of Kie, John B, and Pope warmed your heart, JJ’s empty seat chilled your veins.

“What’s the time?” you asked Sarah.

The Kook fumbled for her phone, “8:40. You’re here ‘till 9?”

You nodded and put away the book of Chopin pieces, “You guys can head out, if you want. There’s no need to wait for me.”

Sarah shook her head, “No way we’re leaving early on your opening night! Besides, John B can give you a ride home in the Twinkie.”

“Don’t worry about me, Kate and Top are coming to get me at 9:15,” you smiled appreciatively.

Sarah conceded and walked backwards to her table, “As you wish. But we’re here for the whole show!”

You let out a half-hearted giggle and sighed as you turned back to the piano. Exhaustion seemed to finally set in as you became acutely aware of the ache in your lower back and the cramping of your fingers. But you still had a job to do. So, you relied on muscle memory to get through the last few pieces of your set. You deliberately chose songs you knew like the back of your hand, as you had a feeling you’d be drained of energy by this point. As you continued playing, the crowd slowly filtered out until just the Pogues remained.

“That was pretty incredible, Miss Montgomery,” Mike Carrera gleamed as he approached you. 

You sent him a tired smile as you gathered your sheet music back into your bag, “Thanks, Mr. Carrera.”

“You’ve outdone yourself. Why don’t you head home and get some rest?” he handed you a white envelope as he spoke.

You nodded and stuffed the payment at the bottom of your bag.

As soon as he’d retreated, you were instantly bombarded by the chattering group of Pogues. You weakly returned their hugs and tried your best to match their high energy, but to no avail. You were completely and utterly drained. Instead, you found yourself looking around the restaurant, hoping to catch a glimpse of blue eyes and blond hair.

“He went out back,” John B mumbled into your ear.

You jumped, startled by his voice. You fought the blush creeping up your neck as you’d just been caught red-handed looking for JJ. Still, you sent John B a soft smile, and slipped away from the group while they were distracted by something Pope said.

Your heart thumped in your chest as you snuck towards the door leading to the back porch. The salty breeze engulfed you instantly as you pushed it open, and you greedily breathed in the soothing sensation.

You spotted JJ leaning on the railing, staring out at the rolling waves of the ocean. His untamed hair billowed in the breeze, and the full moon above seemed to kiss his nose. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress as you approached him quietly. You mimicked his stance leaning against the railing, making sure to keep a comfortable distance between you two.

“Avoiding me now?” you spoke gently, as if approaching a wild animal.

He simply grunted, his eyes unmoving from the ocean before him.

You sighed, and diverted your gaze to the crashing waves as well. Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. But nothing came out. There were so many things you wanted to say–but your brain seemed to be short circuiting.

You snuck a glance at him. You observed the bump on the top of his nose, and the strain of his biceps against his white t-shirt.

“I like that shirt on you,” you lamely stated.

You cringed, and kicked yourself internally.

JJ snorted, but the frown etched on his lips remained.

“Please, don’t try to make nice with me,” his scratchy voice tickled something in your brain.

You huffed, “What? You’d rather I curse you out?”

His silence made your blood boil, but you forced yourself to remain level-headed.

You sighed before making another effort to engage him, “Look, I think we should at least talk about last night. I’m sorry for–”

“Talk about what?” he snapped, turning to face you. You shrunk underneath his menacing glare. “I sent you spiraling, you tried to drown yourself in the ocean. I saved you, and then you tried to drown yourself in alcohol instead. You see the running theme?”

You flinched at his razor sharp tone, “That’s not–”

“The truth? It is. Don’t be fucking dumb, Montgomery. Don’t delude yourself into thinking anything good has come from me coming into your life.”

Your stomach lurched. You opened your mouth to respond, but JJ cut you off again.

“You were right. We’re no good for each other. And I don’t wanna be the one responsible for ruining your life, crushing your hopes and dreams. So let’s just leave it at that.”

For the first time that night, his facade slipped. And the glint of agony in his troubled eyes was unmistakable.

“What about what I want?” your voice trembled.

JJ’s eyes narrowed as he tried to maintain his mask of indifference, “What do you want?”

“I…” you paused. That was the question you’d been trying, and failing, to find an answer for all day. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered.

JJ scoffed. He pushed himself off the railing, and turned to go back inside.

Panic seized you as you watched him walk away. 

Maybe you haven’t found anything in common with him because you haven’t allowed yourself to try, Kate’s words from earlier rang through you.

With a sudden surge of courage, you lurched forward and wrapped your fingers around JJ’s wrist.

The feeling of his skin against yours was as electrifying as your first touch.

“Take me out,” you blurted before you could talk yourself out of it.

JJ’s hard glare softened slightly, and his brows furrowed. Anxiety gripped you as you watched his chapped lips part in surprise.

“We can’t possibly decide this won’t work when we don’t really know anything about each other,” you spoke with conviction despite the fear twisting your insides, “If by the end of it we still feel the same way, then at least we have the peace of mind that we tried.”

You could practically see the gears turning in JJ’s head as he mulled over your words.

“So let’s start over. Take me out on a proper date,” you concluded your long-winded speech.

You were certain he could feel the heavy thump of your heart in his own chest. His silence made your knees buckle, and you wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in the fine sand below. Just as you let your fingers slip from his wrist, his hand shot out to catch yours.

“Okay,” JJ whispered.

Your shoulders slumped with relief. Okay. He said ‘okay’.

“Okay,” you breathed out, “Tuesday?”

“Can’t. I have work,” he replied.

“Wednesday?” you countered.

“6:00?”

“I have piano until 7:00.”

“Then 7:00.”

“Okay.”

The blaring sound of a car horn cut the awkward exchange short. You whipped around to the source of the sound, and caught sight of Topper’s unmistakable Range Rover waiting in the parking lot. Reluctantly, you released your hand from JJ’s.

“That’s my ride,” you whispered.

JJ nodded and took an awkward step back. You hiked your bag on your shoulder and turned to leave.

“You were incredible tonight, by the way,” JJ rasped as you walked away.

You paused as your heart skipped a beat. You craned your neck and sent your soulmate a sincere smile over your shoulder. You wanted nothing more than to turn back and give yourself completely to the bond. But you let the rational part of your brain take over, and beat on towards the waiting car. 

And as you strolled towards the black SUV, the ethereal melody of Fantaisie Impromptu played in your mind. It echoed through you like never before. Affettuoso. With feeling. 

What was once created by Chopin was now yours, forever branded by JJ Maybank.

[pianocat939]

Ok this isn't my usual content, but like hear me out. And no, this isn't like anything character related-

Just think of it...as like a scenario to fill in ig Girlie I don't fucking know, I'm just spewing words

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, mentions of violence

Ok so imagine.

There's like this drive. We'll call it Chestnut drive.

Just a typical neighbourhood street.

And on the last house, there's a married couple.

The husband, is like some super scary, really cold guy. He hates the world except for maybe his own wife. And he's a monster too- *ahem he was a thug back in his school days* But he is a handsome fucker.

And then you got the wife. Who's really nice, and never has any problems. Honestly, she's the one usually having to hide her husband's crimes.

Enter MC, who's a single person, getting the first ever house. Which ended up being right next to theirs. Everybody else doesn't go near their house, because of the husband. And yet, MC is totally clueless and ends up watching their feral dog in their yard.

The wife notices first, and strikes up conversation. She's eager to have someone new to talk to. She bakes desserts sometimes, and constantly tries to offer them to MC.

Guess who she gushes all about MC to? That's right- her husband. At first he's like creeped out and even a little jealous. But after watching you through your living room window a few nights a week, he’s realized why she’s so intrigued.

He finds MC so cute, all alone in their house. With no one but themselves really. Maybe the occasional friend over. In a way, he starts to grow protective of them, just like how he is with his wife.

Meanwhile, the wife is just obsessed to have someone to talk to who isn’t terrified of her husband. She’s constantly giving affection she tries to pass it off as platonic when honestly it’s borderline romantic

Their conversations at dinner went from a bit mundane to just simply rambling about you. Wondering which bedroom you should take, or if they should expand theirs completely.

Soon they invite you over to their house often. Just for the occasional meal or tea. Even showcasing their feral dog. (Tiny dog may I add)

MC doesn’t notice, but soon the couple’s house has little things that they like. If they like art? A few paint tubes or high-end coloured are thrown around the house. If they like music? Wow- they suddenly got a Steinway grand piano for them to play around with.

The husband is constantly checking if MC’s ok. Making sure they dress properly for the weather before they go back to their house. In any extreme weather conditions (blizzard, hurricane, rain- a shit ton of rain) he’ll just show up to their house with groceries.

The wife seems to love giving little cheek kisses and hugs. Always finding ways to present her cooking. She likes buying the occasional clothing item for them. Just something she thought would look quite fitting on them.

It’s all too late at some point, because the husband will haul them over his shoulder if they try to run away. He’ll carry them to their now big bedroom, enough for 3 people to share.

He’ll beat up anyone that tries looking for them. He doesn’t have those muscles for nothing.

The wife is just so happy to have MC in their bedroom. Giving snuggles and lots of coos of affection.

And with a kiss goodnight from both of them, MC finds themselves sandwiched between the two. Unable to move from the husband’s arms, or push off the wife who’s laying on top of them.

MC should just consider themselves as newly-wedded to this strange but surprisingly…functional couple.

(HELP- I JUST FELL DOWN A PIT OF SELF-INDULGENCE)

(I have so many ideas for this bullshit but I also have never written anything non-fandom related on this blog before…Other than my shitposts)

(Assuming I’ll probably make more, I’ll put the tag ‘Husband Wife Trio’ lmao)

- Celina

[breha]

claudia plays the piano i just sat metaphorically bolt upright in bed. i want her to play bach i want her to play improvisations 35 years ahead of their time i want her to compose loud weird complicated shit that upsets people. i want her to refuse to ever touch a piano again i want her to play an out-of-tune upright in an abandoned house in some bombed-out european city i want her to smash a steinway grand into little pieces with her bare hands i want her to play her half of a duet she used to play with lestat alone even though louis desperately doesn't want to hear it. i think she should eat piano teachers

[photoblogdujour]

Starsister Scarlet and Yellow Dahlia piano duo four hands, 16 petals, and a Steinway grand full of pollen.

[bakedbakermom]

hooooooly shit i might be about to inherit my family's giant rosewood steinway grand piano built in the 1860s. (my parents are still alive, they're just moving to a place where it may not fit.) this thing was built while Lincoln was still alive. it has real ivory keys from before the ban. it's so old that it has 85 keys instead of 88 because the music world hadn't settled on that as the standard yet. it would be at home in a museum or a concert hall but it might be coming to My Living Room and i'm so excited and kind of terrified.

photo from 2014, after my parents had her restored for her 150th birthday. please forgive the glare from my crappy old camera.