#the love unlimited orchestra
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Gumi's Song of the Day
Bring It On Up by The Love Unlimited Orchestra
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âMesmo que nĂŁo dure, mesmo que tudo dĂȘ errado e eu fique sozinho e miserĂĄvel a menor chance de uma vida perfeita com vocĂȘ Ă© infinitamente melhor do que uma vida imortal sem vocĂȘ e eu sei de uma coisa, eu te amo e eu vou te amar atĂ© meu Ășltimo suspiro nessa terra.â
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Watch "Easin' (Love Unlimited Orchestra)" on YouTube
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The #1 song from 50 years ago was with Love Unlimited with Barry Whiteâs âLoveâs Themeâ, one of the few instrumentals to top the charts. ____________________ Loveâs Theme Composer: Barry White
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#FREEDOWNLOADS #FREEPROMO #RADIOCHART Love Unlimited Orchestra - High Steppin Hip Dressin Fella (My Grooves Edit - Afshin & Alex Finkin) Produced by Afshin & @alexfinkin for the My Grooves party @djoonclub www.fb.com/mygrooves ĐĄĐșĐ°ŃĐ°ŃŃ: https://ift.tt/kTafR3p https://ift.tt/6V0jYoa
#FreeDownload#FreeTrack#Unlimited#Orchestra#Barry#White#Afshin#My#Grooves#Djoon#Funk#Soul#Disco#High#Hip#Fella#Edit Love Unlimited Orchestra - High Steppin Hip Dressin Fella (My Grooves Edit - Afshin & Alex Finkin) Afshin#SoundCloud
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Love Unlimited Orchestra - Barry's Theme
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Connecting⊠Christmas Holiday đđ
đ 09:37am Wed, Dec 27 Selecting random musicâŠ
Sync my "Home Station" with my YouTube channel ⊠Winter
IT MAY BE WINTER OUTSIDE Barry White - Love Unlimited Orchestra Glodean James, Linda James, Diane Taylor
#Barry White#Love Unlimited Orchestra#Glodean James#Linda James#Diane Taylor#IT MAY BE WINTER OUTSIDE#Youtube
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#Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark#Orchestral Manoeuvres#OMD#Andy McCluskey#Nigel Ipinson#Phil Coxon#Barry White#Love Unlimited Orchestra#Gregg Jackman#Dream Of Me#Liberator#electronic#pop#synthpop#synthwave#new wave#experimental#1993#90s music#Meols#Merseyside#England#Belgium#Netherlands#United Kingdom#UK singles#wclassicradio#radio station#Buenos Aires#Argentina
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Remembering Barry White, who was born on this day.
Sept.12, 1944 â July 4, 2003), He was an singer-songwriter, musician, record producer and composer. A two-time Grammy Awardâwinner known for his bass-baritone voice and romantic image, his greatest success came in the 1970s as a solo singer and with The Love Unlimited Orchestra, crafting many enduring soul, funk, and disco songs such as his two biggest hits: "You're the First, the Last, My Everything" and "Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Babe".
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Review: The Wichita Train Whistle Sings (1968)
We must begin with this excerpt from the albumâs Wikipedia page:
âThe album was made over a two-day session on November 18â19, 1967 at the RCA studios in Hollywood, and it featured the best musicians in Hollywood⊠including ten trumpets, ten trombones, ten saxophones, two drummers, five percussionists, four pianos, eight basses, seven guitars. Because it was the weekend, all musicians were paid double time and the session was catered by Chasens, the finest restaurant in Hollywood, and Nesmith provided an open bar, with the predictable result that most of the normally highly disciplined cadre of studio musicians were drunk by the time the session finished. It all cost $50,000. Nesmith explained to Hal Blaine that he was about to pay a similar sum in tax and he would rather spend it on the sessions and write it off than give it to the IRS.â
(Note: $50,000 in 1968 is worth upwards of $450,000 today. And that is not how tax write offs work? Maybe I'm betraying my line of work here but the things I would do to look at his bookkeeping files... ugh!)
This album is an instrumental orchestral recording of many of Mikeâs early songs. Highlights include Carlisle Wheeling (the best example of this album being done right), Tapioca Tundra (if you thought the Monkees version was epic, imagine it with a full orchestra - itâs truly on another level), and You Just May Be The One (a very funky and fresh military parade inspired score - it may not be for everyone but it blew my mind a little bit so I love it).Â
Favorite parts of the album:
Itâs very clear that this was something Mike wanted to do and for that I am fond of it. He really wanted to appeal to a broad audience, and believed that incorporating many musical genres would bring people of all backgrounds and interests together (whether or not a full orchestra melded well with electric guitars and a twanging banjo is another question.) With the exception of some co-author writing credits, Mike wrote and arranged the whole thing. When he re-released it onto CD, it was recorded from vinyl, to retain the original quality which is a brilliant touch and I think it is worth more than if it had been remastered to keep up with the times.
Critiques:Â
This is what happens when you give a 25 year old with big ideas unlimited fame and fortune and a plethora of yes-men who want to make a buck off of him. These were studio musicians, so they were very skilled and Iâm sure professional, but the downside to studio musicians is that they donât have the inherent group sound that a full-time band would have. Mike at this time was not a good enough producer to know what to look for and how to direct a group â I think if there had been someone like the Beatlesâ George Martin hanging around, not afraid to push for quality, it would have been a very different album. That aside, there are some parts where the âvocal trackâ does not translate well into a single instrument affair (note the trumpets in Nine Times Blue which become repetitive.) Additionally, Mike betrays his true hippie nature by believing that an orchestra enthusiast will not be offended by a lively banjo solo, or that a folkie would pick this up just because their favorite picker was on board. Sometimes, genres do exist for a reason.
Conclusion:
Overall, you shouldnât skip listening to this one, but I wouldnât blame you if you didnât revisit often. Personally, Iâm a huge fan of the concept, I love the instrumental takes he added to later albums, and I wish he had released more in the same vein, but these are still gems.Â
#mike nesmith#the wichita train whistle sings#album reviews#i'm 100% just doing these to yap to myself but please let me know if you like them / have comments or opinions!! <3#michael nesmith
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Putting these in alphabetical instead of Top 12 order so not to skew the results.
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Chaconne: Part Fourteen (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)
Word Count: 11.1K
Summary: With the days to the concert flying by, you do your best to assist MSO conductor Agatha Harkness as you both prepare for the final performance.
A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to the last chapter of Chaconne. Itâs taken me a while to get here, but Iâm so excited to post this and share it with all of you. Just a few reminders, this story was originally based off one of my favorite tv shows, Mozart In The Jungle. A few of the plot lines inspired me to write this story but, I do not own Mozart In The Jungle (unfortunately). I lost track while writing so this chapter is much longer, but I hope all of you enjoy. Thank you guys for reading and always sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate it more than words can say. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and please, feel free to comment or message me to let me know what you think! :)
Tag-List: @anxiousgoldengirl @celasteria @danvers97 @imthedoctorlove @mcfriggingonagall @meowsaidmissy @scarletmeltstheice @shinkomiii @sxfwap @thestrangeundoing @upsidedowndanvers @venticalooks @vintagegoddess12 @thoroughly--confused @thewelshelk @tr333sus
Y/N POV
There was nothing more exhilarating than the start of a concert week. The grueling hours of practicing, weeks of rehearsals that seemed to drag by, all of it was worth it for opening night. Sitting on stage while the lights began to dim. Seeing the concert hall full of an audience who came to watch you perform. Well, thatâs what you usually would look forward to. Only this time you wouldnât be performing, youâd be backstage preventing Agatha from strangling the various stage hands and orchestra personnel.
With the concert quickly approaching, you were leaving work later and later every night. It seemed that there was a never ending pile of tasks to complete, and just when you thought you had finished, there turned out to be more to do. You loved the work, even if it wasnât what you envisioned doing with your career. The MSO housed an impressive music library, with what seemed to be thousands of music scores. There were guest artist programs where world famous musicians like Wanda and Natasha would do various performances in the community. You had an unlimited supply of resources at your fingertips, but a small part of you wondered if it would be enough.
After you called Natasha to inform her you werenât accepting the offer, she had taken to emailing you twice more to make sure you hadnât reconsidered. But you weren't reconsidering, right? Sure, you weren't performing with the MSO, but you had Agatha. Agatha, who had taken to inviting you to stay with her for the past few nights. Agatha, who made you dinner each night, despite your protests that you could help. Agatha, who turned off your earliest alarm so you could catch up on sleep, and sent her car service to pick you up a few hours later.
Even with the domestic layers of Agatha that you were slowly uncovering, there were still unanswered questions. Despite all the time youâd spent together, the dates, and the sleepovers youâd never had a conversation discussing what this was. You couldnât really picture Agatha as the âgirlfriendâ type, and you were unsure how to ask her what she wanted long term. Or rather, you were scared that you wanted more than she did.
There was no use fretting right now, you reminded yourself as you entered the symphony center. You had a job to do, and it currently required all of your attention. There had originally been a youth music concert scheduled for the day, where hundreds of children would come hear the symphony perform, but Hayward canceled it last week. He claimed it was a waste of money that wasnât benefitting the symphony, and instead scheduled yet another donor lunch. While you had been disappointed by the news, Agatha was livid. You recalled the thirty minute rant you witnessed last week, complete with Agathaâs ever colorful ways of insulting the CFO.
This afternoonâs dress rehearsal meant Agatha would be even more nitpicky than usual, if that was even possible. Agatha didnât just expect a flawless performance, she demanded it. But rehearsals were running more smoothly as time went on, so you were hopeful today wouldnât be a complete disaster. She seemed to be pleased with the orchestra's progress, or as pleased as she could be. There was a comfortable sort of banter between her and the orchestra (although the slightâŠbullying towards Dottie hadnât changed), and it was nice to see her start to relax. The orchestra wasnât afraid of her anymore, the fear had slowly turned into respect.
Youâd usually find the conductor pacing in her office in the hours before rehearsal started, but much to your surprise her office was vacant when you returned from helping the interns set the stage. There was a note addressed to you on her desk, and in Agathaâs messy scrawl she informed you sheâd be back before rehearsal started, and to make sure you had something to eat. On rehearsal days you were often so busy there were times where youâd forget to eat lunch, or even dinner. Agatha always noticed. Although sheâd complain you were supposed to be her assistant and not the other way around, sheâd make sure you ate something.
By the time rehearsal rolled around, most of the orchestra had arrived and were getting settled on stage when Agatha came sauntering in. She was carrying two cups of coffee, and handed one to you when she reached the stage. Her fingers briefly squeezed yours, and when she let go you instantly missed the contact. Wasting no time, she clapped her hands together to indicate the lingering orchestra members should get on stage.
âWeâre going to run through parts of Dvorak before Wanda arrives.â Agatha informed you as she gathered her music scores and baton that you had grabbed from her office earlier that afternoon. âCan you watch the string sections to make sure everyone is following the correct bowings? It only takes one of them to fuck it up and become an eyesore.â
Nodding, you grabbed the spare copy of the Dvorak score and a pencil. âAnything else?â
âLet me know if anyone seems to be falling behind because of the tempo changes. I know we have problems with the flutes, but Iâve been sensing some of the first violins dragging as well.â Agatha added, and you scribbled down her instructions. âWeâre going to be running through the program from start to finish for the second half of rehearsal, so I want to get all of the kinks worked out beforehand.â
The conductor paused for a moment as her eyes scanned the stage before turning her attention back to you. âI have a little surprise planned for today. Can you ask a few of the interns to wait in the lobby?â
A surprise? Is that where she disappeared to today? Giving her a sweet smile, you leaned in close enough to whisper. âCan I ask what it is?â
Agatha smirked, and there was a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. She merely tskd and shook her head. âAll in good time, dear. Now if youâll excuse me, I have a rehearsal to lead.â
Firing off a text to 4 interns relaying Agathaâs instructions, you waited for confirmation that they would wait in the lobby before settling in your seat. Agatha was flipping through her score, and you scanned the first violin section until your eyes locked on Monica and sent her a quick, but enthusiastic wave. You missed her, and missed being her stand partner.
Tapping her baton, Agatha motioned for the orchestra to be quiet. âGood afternoon everyone. As this is our last rehearsal before tomorrow night, I have a few spots I want to run before our soloist arrives.â
She was flipping through her score at record speed before finally locating whatever section she was searching for. âIf you could turn your attention to measure 191 in the first movement. Strings, I need less of you here. You shouldnât be playing anything above mezzo piano.â Pausing, her eyes appeared to drift throughout the section, before adding. âAnd some of you need to use less bow. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Donât waste all of your energy in the first movement when we have three more to go.â
Raising her baton, the orchestra raised their instruments, and you turned to the correct page in the score so you could follow along. Unfortunately, the orchestra barely played a full measure before Agatha cut them off.
Clearing her throat, you could tell she was attempting to keep her annoyance in check. âJust a reminder, we are at measure 191 in the first movement.â She waved her baton back towards the winds. âDoes everyone know where we are?â When everyone either nodded or confirmed they were at the correct place, Agatha sighed. âAlright then. Once more, and weâll keep going this time.â
Your eyes locked on the measure Agatha was referring to, and quickly scanned the parts before she gave the downbeat to begin. Again, barely one measure in and she was cutting the orchestra off once more. Oh no. Although Agatha hadnât been as frustrated during orchestra rehearsals, you were beginning to wonder if today would end that streak.
Tapping her baton on the stand, she took a deep breath. âAlright. I want everyone to take a moment and make sure we are all at the same place. In case some of you happen to be hard of hearing, we are at measure 191.â She tapped the baton again, louder, this time in clear frustration. âAgain, that is measure one hundred and ninety-one.â This time she enunciated each syllable and a painstakingly slow pace. âDoes anyone need help locating the measure? I thought they would have taught you to count by now but I am willing to assist if need be.â
When she was once again met with silence, she nodded. âGood. Once more, hopefully for the last time.â
Raising her baton, she gave the downbeat and when the orchestra played the first note you could immediately tell that someone was not at the correct measure. Agatha dropped her baton on her stand and shook her head. âFlutes, are all of you on the right measure?â There was insistent nodding from the flute section and you grimaced.
Agatha took yet another very, very, deep breath, more than likely to try and keep her temper in check. âFlutes, if weâre all in the same place then why are we not playing the correct notes? We are in the key of e minor, yes?â Without even waiting for the flutes to confirm she continued on her rant. âRight, right. Yes, yes. Very good, we can all read key signatures. Iâm sure your parents are so proud theyâve paid hundreds of thousands of dollars on your education that you can identify what key you are in.â
Ouch. She was in a mood now. There was movement to your right, and you looked over to see Wanda Maximoff taking a seat next to you. The pianist gave your shoulder a light squeeze, and leaned in closer to you. âI see Agatha is getting along well with the orchestra.â
You resisted the urge to giggle, on the off chance Agatha somehow heard and became even more agitated than she already was. The conductor in question looked like she was getting close to going full rage. âDottie, are you sure you have the correct measure number?â
The principal flautist nodded. âYes, Maestra. Itâs marked as measure 191.â
âThen why are you playing the wrong note? You have an e-flat notated but youâve played an e-natural each time.â
âI donât have an e-flat at 191, Maestra. Itâs an e-natural,â Dottie insisted, and you swore she appeared to be shrinking in size in her seat from embarrassment.
The second chair flautist leaned over to read Dottieâs part before nodding. âSheâs right, Maestra. Itâs an e-natural at measure 191.â She then turned to Jimmy. âRight, Jimmy?â
Jimmy, who was seated on the other side of Dottie reluctantly looked over at her part as well. âItâsâŠitâs an e-natural, Maestra.â
âSee, I have witnesses!â Dottie exclaimed. âItâs not me.â
Jimmy meanwhile was still scanning Dottieâs part, and he pointed at something on the page. âWait Dottie, I think your part is numbered incorrectly. It looks like youâre off by three bars.â
Dottie became more flustered and she appeared to be silently counting each bar, before sheepishly looking up at Agatha. âWell, it looks like I wasnât actually at measure 191. But it wasnât my fault! The part was numbered incorrectly.â
âAh of course, Dottie,â Agatha drawled sarcastically, her voice dripping with resentment. âItâs always someone elseâs fault.â Grabbing her baton, she raised her arms. âMeasure 191 everyone.â
The orchestra began to play and you were following along with the score until you felt Wanda lightly tap your shoulder. Giving her an inquisitive look she leaned closer to you again. âNatasha told me you turned down the job offer. I have to say Iâm surprised, and I know she was as well.â
Shrugging, you gave a quick glance to the stage to make sure Agathaâs attention was solely on the orchestra before replying. âIâm grateful for the opportunity, but Iâm really happy where I am right now.â
âYou mean youâre happy with Agatha.â Wanda corrected you, but there was no malice or judgment in her tone; only curiosity. âDoes she know you got the job?â
You debated over the risk of confiding in Wanda, but rationalized that she had been nothing but kind to you. Plus, it wouldnât hurt to talk to someone about this. âNo, she doesnât. Besides, it doesnât matter now. I told Natasha that I wasnât taking it, so she never has to know.â
âYou should tell her,â Wanda suggested, her breath hot in your ear. âSheâd want to know.â
âItâs not that simple,â You argued. âWe donât-â
âIf my assistant and soloist could stop chatting, the rest of us doing our jobs would greatly appreciate it,â Agatha called from the stage, effectively shutting you up. âWanda, if youâd like to come on stage for Rachmaninoff, weâll continue after taking a 10 minute break.â
Wanda gave your shoulder a final squeeze as she stood up. âJust think about it, okay? Iâve known Agatha for a long time, and I can tell she really cares about you. You should tell her.â
With that, Wanda went to join the orchestra on stage, and you were alone yet again. Although Wanda meant well, there was no point in telling Agatha about the job in Vienna. You had made your decision, and you were happy with it. Agatha came skulking off the stage, heading in your general direction and you winced at how annoyed she appeared to be.
âY/N, a moment?â Agatha asked, and as she stared at you it became apparent she wanted you to get up and follow her.
Nodding, you followed her backstage. You barely rounded the corner when you felt Agatha grab your arm and yank you into a closet. It was a storage closet, and a rather roomy one at that. Now, it wasnât unusual for Agatha to be staring at you, but this was different. At first you wondered if she was angry you were talking to Wanda during rehearsal, but you couldnât detect any frustration in her gaze. Her eyes were scanning yours, as if she was trying to detect something, find something, but you werenât sure what.
âAgatha?â You asked softly, gazing up at her. âIs everything alright?â
âI was hoping youâd join me for dinner after rehearsal,â Agatha explained, as one of her hands lightly grabbed your waist. âIâve enjoyed having you stay over for the past few nights. Itâs been quiteâŠcalming. I think Scratchy enjoyed it too.â
Beaming at her words, you blushed. âIâd love to, and Iâve enjoyed it too. But is that all you wanted to talk about?â
Agatha left one hand on your waist as the other gently reached to cradle your face. âIt can wait until tonight dear.â
She pressed her lips to your forehead for a sweet and gentle kiss before letting go of your waist. âNow, if youâll come with me. I believe they should be arriving any minute now.â
Before you could ask what, or rather who, was arriving, Agatha was already halfway down the hallway; leaving you to awkwardly trail after her. You never understood how she was able to walk so quickly in those heels. Just as you managed to catch up to her, you stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw occurring in the concert hall. There were children, hundreds of children, all excitedly entering the hall. Somehow the four interns you wrangled into waiting in the lobby had called for reinforcements, as there were now around a dozen interns and orchestra personnel guiding the school children and their teachers to seats.
For a brief moment you were brought back in time to your first visit to the symphony when you were a child. The hall seemed mammoth sized, with the shimmery chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, and the thousands of seats. Seeing a full symphony orchestra for the first time, as you rapidly fired off the name of every instrument you spotted to your parents. Watching the professional violinists warm up and prepare for the concert. It was what inspired you to want to perform in the first place.
Agatha was conversing with the stage manager and you stared at her in disbelief. This is what she was off doing today? However she pulled this off, after Hayward made a clear point of canceling it, was beyond you. She caught you staring in the midst of her conversation, and merely winked at you before motioning with what she wanted to do with the stage lights. Darcy walked by you at that moment, her mallets in one hand and her music in the other.
âI have to say, I canât believe she managed to make this happen,â Darcy said to you. âHaywardâs going to have a total fit.â
âYeah no kidding,â You shuddered at the thought of Hayward finding out. âDid you know about this?â
Darcy shook her head. âI just perform here.â
It took another fifteen minutes to get everyone in their seats, and in the meantime you joined Agatha backstage. The conductor was lightly pacing, and every few minutes appeared to be peering out into the crowd.
âYou did this all on your own?â You asked quietly, as various musicians made their way to their seats. âToday?â
Agatha shrugged, not meeting your eyes. âHayward seems to forget that this isnât his orchestra, itâs mine. Itâs about time he remembers whoâs in charge.â
âHow did you even get all of these kids here? Iâm sure when Hayward canceled the field trip the schools canceled the transportation they had lined up.â You prompted, still amazed at the different obstacles youâre sure she had to face to do this in such a short amount of time.
Giving you a pointed look, Agatha gave you a small smirk. âIâm Agatha Harkness, dear.â
âYou gave them a lot of money, didnât you?â
Rolling her eyes at you, she chuckled lightly, before motioning to the hall. âWhat do you think?â
âIâmâŠâ You trailed off, still in shock at what the conductor had done. It was so thoughtful, and considerate. You hadnât given much thought to the topic before today but youâd ignorantly assumed Agatha didnât like children. Clearly you were wrong. Realizing you had stayed quiet for too long you said the first thing that came to mind, the only thing on your mind. You loved her. âI-.â
âWeâre ready to begin whenever you are, Maestra.â The stage manager announced as they approached you.
Agatha nodded. âThank you. You can tell Wanda and the concertmaster to make their entrances.â
Once they walked away, you panicked as Agatha looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. You gave the conductorâs arm a playful punch. âBreak a leg.â
She looked at you as if youâd lost your mind, but the sounds of the orchestra tuning roused her from whatever she must have been thinking. Turning away, she went to join Wanda near the stage door, and shot you another curious glance before heading out on stage.
Break a leg? What was wrong with you? You had a tendency to freeze in situations that made you nervous, and you were usually nervous around Agatha. There was something about her that constantly left you on the edge of your seat. You were so scared of disappointing her, and you were just as scared of getting hurt. That was part of the problem. You knew you loved Agatha, youâd been in love with her for a while. It was as easy as breathing. But the thought of being that vulnerable and open terrified you. What if she didnât find this to be as serious of a relationship as you did?
The performance was going a lot better than the earlier rehearsal had. Even though you were stuck backstage, you could hear everything perfectly and there were moments where you pretended you were performing too. Being alone, with a concert going on a few feet away from you was all it took for you to admit that you were going to miss performing. Agatha had brought up the idea of you auditioning for the next open chair a few times, but the blind audition was still in the back of your mind so you politely refused. You wondered if you were crazy for turning down a chance to perform in Vienna with one of your all time favorite musicians.
You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you stopped paying attention to the concert until there was a surge of applause and some light cheering from the audience. You snuck out the side entrance to stand in the back of the hall, just in time to witness Agatha motioning for the orchestra to stand up. She shook the concertmasterâs hand before walking off stage, and when the applause eventually died down she came back out. You watched her say something inaudible to the orchestra, who were still in their seats.
A few of the children had gotten out of their seats and were lingering at the front of the stage. Agatha eventually noticed them, and surprised you once more as she waved for them to come up to join her. Still too far away to hear what they were saying, you felt your heart swell as Agatha handed one of them her baton, and helped them up on the podium. The rest of the group had scattered around various orchestra members who began demonstrating how to play their instruments. You forgot how long you stood there, until Agatha noticed you in the crowd, and motioned for you to come join them.
Wanda had come back out at this point, and had two of the children sitting on the piano bench, and was laughing with delight as she showed them how to play simple chords. Meanwhile, the violin section was swarmed, and you could make out Monica and the new violinist, John, allowing the kids to hold their bows. Agatha was having them stand on the podium, one by one. She would hand them her baton, and show them the proper way to hold it. This went on for some time, until finally the buses arrived and the interns had the children in neat lines to exit the hall.
When the doors shut once more, Agatha tapped her baton once more. âI know all of you are probably eager to head home, I have a few announcements. First, a reminder that the call time for tomorrow evening is 6:00 sharp. I shouldnât have to tell you this, but you should know that being early is being on time, and being on time is being late.â She pointed her baton at the brass section. âTrumpets, Iâm looking at you. No strolling in at 6:01, I want you backstage, unpacked and warmed up by 6:00.â
After a brief moment of silence, she continued. âSecondly, thank you all for the performance today. In all my years of performing and conducting, Iâve always enjoyed these concerts the most. Thereâs something quite special about what we do, when we do it well.â
Agatha seemed to have the whole orchestra hanging on to her every word. Despite her occasional outbursts and sarcastic quips, she was a beyond captivating public speaker. âI know some people on the board donât feel it is necessary, as it doesnât bring in enough money,â She scoffed, and Haywardâs words replayed in your mind. âBut there is nothing more important than sharing this gift we have with the next generation. After all, thereâs a good chance some of them might end up sitting in the very same chairs youâre occupying now.â
âOne final thing,â Agatha added, as she closed her Dvorak score. âI know Iâve been rather hard on all of you for the past few months, but itâs because I see the potential this orchestra has. I donât want the Manhattan Symphony to just be a good orchestra, I want it to be the best, and I know thatâs possible.â
She picked her scores off the stand, and by reflex you grabbed them from her. âWe arenât a great orchestra yet, we arenât the best. But Iâm proud of the work youâre putting in,â She nodded her head to the winds, âAll of you. Which is why I have planned a little something for tomorrow. I know most of you take public transportation to get to and from rehearsals, but tomorrow night Iâll be sending each of you a town car to take you to and from the concert.â
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head from shock. A quick look around the room confirmed everyone else, including a lingering Wanda, was just as flabbergasted as you. A few people were clapping, others were offering their thanks to the conductor who waved it away. âNone of that. Tomorrow will be the start of a new era for the Manhattan Symphony, and I want all of you to feel like stars.â She stepped off the podium. âThat will be all, thank you everyone.â
On the walk back to the conductorâs office, you asked the question that had been practically burning a hole in your brain all afternoon. âHow did you manage to get all of this done today?â
âI already had the school concert resolved earlier in the week,â Agatha stated as she unlocked the door, allowing you to step inside first. âThe town car was an idea I came up with this morning.â
âYou do know that they really think the world of you,â You teased, causing Agatha to scowl, but it was true. Agathaâs added pressure and high expectations was pushing the orchestra to new heights.
âIâd prefer they think nothing of me,â She quipped, packing her scores and belongings up in her bag, and you rolled your eyes.
âOf course, Maestra.â
The rest of the day was uneventful, and your dinner with Agatha turned into takeout on her couch, as you were both too exhausted from the day to do anything else. But it was perfect. You were so happy, and so content. You wanted it to stay like this forever.
The day of the concert proved to be pure madness. You decided to ride to the symphony center in the early evening with Agatha in an attempt to calm her down. The conductor had been in a mood all day, wanting to make last minute changes that you knew were impossible. You finally were able to help her calm down on the walk to her office, and she shooed you away as she carried her garment bag containing her outfit inside. Agatha had convinced you to wear an all black ensemble, and told you that youâd blend in well backstage (which you werenât entirely sure was a compliment but you listened to her).
You waited outside her office door for some time before she finally said you could come back in. The conductorâs back was facing the wall and you barely made it through the door when she instructed you to close it. As she turned around, you gasped. Agatha had changed into a black Armani pantsuit that made her ass look fantastic. Her hair was as tamed as it ever had been, with her curly waves flowing over her shoulders and her makeup stage dark. She looked beautiful.
âYou lookâŠâ You momentarily lost the ability to speak as you tried to not gawk at her. âYou look incredible, wow.â
Agatha smirked at you, âThank you, darling.â She pulled you closer to her. âI saw you checking out my ass as well.â
You blushed and wriggled in her grasp. âI was not checking you out. I was justâŠadmiring the view.â
That made Agatha cackle as she grabbed your waist, nibbling on your ear and whispering, âOh? Admiring the view, hm?â
You turned your head to capture her lips in a kiss. Kissing Agatha was so easy, just like breathing. Her lips moved against yours and you made a happy humming noise as she deepened it. Agathaâs teeth gently bit down on your bottom lip, drawing blood before she sucked, and you moaned at the sensation. She did it twice more before gently pulling away, kissing you once more.
âWow,â You breathed out, wishing there wasnât a concert soon so you could continue. âThat wasâŠreally good.â
Agatha smirked as she went back to her bookshelf. âIndeed it was. I have a few things to do before the concert, dear. Would you mind checking on how things are going backstage?â
You nodded and as you went to leave, you subtly looked back at Agatha. Her ass did look really good.
âI can feel you staring.â She called out, not turning around, causing you to blush and practically run out of her office.
Keeping yourself busy, you helped the interns keep track of who was arriving. You marked off orchestra member after orchestra member until only one remained. After waiting for what you felt was a sufficient amount of time, you decided to go find Agatha.
âJohn still hasnât shown up,â You informed Agatha, who was shutting her office door. âHas anyone heard from him?â
Agatha arched an eyebrow. âHeâs missing? How horrible. We should send out a search party.â
âAgatha, thatâs not funny. You had a car sent to pick him up, right? Maybe we can call the service company to see if something happened?â
âThat wonât be necessary, dear,â Agatha waved off your concern. âWalker wonât be here in time.â
âHow could you possibly know that?â You questioned, until a dark thought washed over you. âOh my god, did you do this?â
Cackling, Agatha rubbed your arm, amused by your horror. âRelax darling. Youâre acting as if I killed him. Heâs currently driving through New Jersey, I believe. I have some friends in Westview. Nice town, quaint, but unfortunately itâs not where he needs to be.â
âAgatha!â You exclaimed, not comprehending why she would send one of the first violinists on a road trip. âWhy would you do that?â
Shrugging, the conductor started walking away. âLooks like weâll need to find a substitute player. What a shame, the concert is in fifteen minutes. Thatâs not a lot of time to find someone.â
All but chasing after her, realization dawned on you, and you lightly grabbed her arm, stopping her. âAgatha, I donât have my violin. Itâs at my apartment, and thereâs no way I could get there and back in time and-â
You should have been used to this by now, but you were effectively silenced as Agatha kissed you. Firmly grabbing you by your hips, she pulled you closer and lightly bit down on your bottom lip, causing you to whine. Before you could even react, she pulled back, and smirked. âYouâre really too easy, dear.â
âFirst, no Iâm not. You just caught me by surprise.â You pouted, turning slightly red, and Agathaâs resounding cackle made you blushed even harder. âSecond, I still donât have my violin, and I doubt you have a solution for that.â
âOh, I donât?â Agatha frowned, and continued to the concert hall. âThirteen minutes. Chop chop.â
You reluctantly took off after her, not sure what the use was when you didnât have a violin to play. When you walked backstage, you were surprised to find your roommate standing near a table, scrolling on his phone.
âSam?â The sound of your voice causing him to look up. âWhat are you doing here?â
âAgatha called me,â Sam pulled your violin case out from under the table. âIâm not sure how she got my number, but she said you needed this.â
Deciding it wasnât that important to figure out how Agatha acquired your roommateâs phone number at this very moment, you threw yourself at him in a hug. âOh my gosh! Sam, thank you!â
âYeah of course, Y/N.â Sam laughed as he hugged you back. âIâve gotta say, your girlfriend is quite persistent, and scary.â He pulled out a pair of tickets from his coat pocket. âBut she gave me and Bucky tickets so we can watch you perform.â
Your heart did flip flops at the mention of Agatha being your girlfriend. Is that what she was now? Your eyes drifted over the room until you found her across from you, talking to the concertmaster. She caught you staring, she always caught you staring, and winked before returning to her conversation. You couldnât believe she did this for you.
Giving Sam a final hug, you took your violin case. âIâm really glad youâre here, but you should probably get to your seat. I think the concert is starting soon.â
âBreak a leg out there!â Sam said encouragingly as he walked out of the room.
Quickly finding a place to set down your violin case, you opened it up and grabbed your bow. You always made sure to loosen the hairs before putting it away each time you practiced to prevent the bow from becoming warped. Taking a moment to tighten it, you then grabbed your rosin and applied a generous amount. The last step was to make sure you were in tune. You always kept an electronic tuner in your case, but had a tuning app on your phone as well. It took you a little longer than normal, the fall air was becoming colder as the days went on, and it made your violin more difficult to tune. Finally, you were ready.
The rest of the MSO was either already on stage, or making their way to their seats. A few people congratulated you on performing again as you passed them, but the one person you wanted to talk to was nowhere to be found. Where did Agatha wander off to now? You could spot Darcy with another percussionist, a few of the other first violins who were heading on stage, and an agitated looking Tyler Hayward who was heading your way.
âWhat do you think youâre doing?â Hayward all but seethed, his face turning red. âAnd where is John?â
âUmâŠâ Trailing off, you looked around but still couldnât locate Agatha. âHeâs running late, so Maestra Harkness is having me fill in until he gets here.â
âVery convenient that the violinist I hired goes missing right before the season opener is about to begin.â Hayward said, his voice laced with venom. âAnd Harkness has no right asking you to fill in. Put your violin away, youâre not performing.â
âIs there a problem, Mr. Hayward?â Wandaâs voice echoed through the room, and you whipped your head around at the sound of it and almost gasped.
The pianist had changed from her usual attire into a beautiful one-shoulder a-line scarlet gown. The pattern of the dress made there appear to be rose petals scattered throughout it. Her hair was curled and pinned to the side. She looked beautiful.
âY/N?â Wanda's voice broke you out of your trance. âIs everything okay?â
âThis doesnât involve you, Miss Maximoff.â Hayward replied, his voice lowering in volume.
âPerhaps it involves me, then?â Agatha all but growled, and you were worried she would try to impale Hayward with her baton. âWhatâs going on here? Y/N why arenât you onstage?â
âWhat did you do with John, Harkness?â Haywardâs face was turning a rather impressive shade of red. âThe number of rules you have broken in the past two days alone is grounds for your firing. I heard about your impromptu concert yesterday. Youâre lucky I didn't call the board immediately to have you removed.â
âI could say the same of you,â Agatha said conversationally. âYou know, I heard the most fascinating things from Loki Laufeyson about you yesterday at the donor brunch.â She shook her head at the man in disapproval. âEmbezzling symphony funds, Tyler? I donât think the board would approve of that either.â
Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she held it out. âPerhaps youâd like to give them a call? It shouldnât take more than a minute for them to get backstage.â
Haywardâs face instantly paled. âThat wonât be necessary. Weâll discuss this later.â
He stormed off without another word, slamming the door behind him. Agatha immediately turned to you, seemingly having forgotten that Wanda was standing right there. âAre you alright?â
âIâm fine,â You insisted. âWanda showed up before it got worse. Thank you by the way, Wanda. Your timing is always impeccable.â
âIt was my pleasure,â Wanda assured you, smiling brightly.
âIf only all of your entrances were as impeccable, Maximoff,â Agatha taunted lightly, but her tone was more lighthearted than before. âThank you.â
âYouâre welcome, Agatha,â Wanda replied with a small smile.
They were finally sort of getting along. It was about time. You finally walked on stage, where the rest of the orchestra was warming up. Monica looked thrilled to see you once you finally sat down.
âHey stand partner,â She greeted you with a warm grin. âWhat, did Maestra kill John tonight to get rid of him?â
âNot quite, I guess he got stuck in traffic,â You whispered, which wasnât a total lie.
At that moment an automated voice played over the speakers, reminding the audience to have their cellphones silenced, and announced that the concert would begin shortly. That was usually the signal for the orchestra to stop warming up, and sure enough the concertmaster came walking out a few moments later. There was applause from the audience, and after they bowed, it was time to tune the orchestra. Jimmy lifted up his oboe to play an A, and the woodwinds and brass tuned first. Then after a brief pause, Jimmy played another A and the string section, including yourself, tuned your instruments.
Finally, the doors opened and Wanda followed closely by Agatha came walking out. There was thunderous applause from the audience, and you had briefly forgotten how famous both Agatha and Wanda were. Agatha lifted her hand to signal the orchestra should stand for the applause. Looking out in the crowd you finally felt a wave of nerves rush over you. This definitely had to be the largest crowd youâd ever performed in, likeâŠever. Youâd barely had time to think about if you could really do this. Were you ready?
Unfortunately you were out of time to decide that, as Agatha was raising her baton. Lifting your violin you waited for the downbeat and let go of any doubts in your brain. Wanda played the opening chords of the Rachmaninoff somehow more perfectly than in any rehearsal. She was so fluid in her movements it was like nothing you had ever experienced before. She played with such passion, such raw and unrelenting emotions, and with every run and cadenza it was as if she was pouring her entire heart out.
The second movement, the Adagio sostenuto, was breathtakingly beautiful with Wanda playing a sweet melody, accompanied by the orchestra. It was as heartbreaking as it was hopeful with the start of each new cadence. Somehow you enjoyed Wanda playing this softer melody even more than the fury of intense runs up and down the keys. Towards the end of the movement the first violins took over the melody, and you could practically feel your soul singing along as you played out. You had missed this, youâd missed it with every fiber of your being. Being on stage, performing in an orchestra, this is what you were meant to do.
Although you had been looking up at Agatha throughout the piece so far, she had been too wrapped up in making sure everyone was following the correct tempo. However this time, towards the end of the movement, you made brief, but direct eye contact, and you swore she smiled at you. Finally it was the third and final movement, the Allegro scherzando. While the second movement had been more subdued, the third was the complete opposite. Wanda, somehow still full of energy and seemingly not tired, effortlessly played all of her runs at the new, fast tempo.
The movement all but sped by, and you switched your focus between the music on the page and stealing glances at Wanda. She was beyond captivating, with her glissandos up and down the piano, her final cadenza practically had you hypnotized. The last few minutes of the concerto had Wanda playing her practically impossible chords as the orchestra sped into playing the final phrases, and you watched as Agatha cut everyone off.
The concert hall erupted into tumultuous applause, and Wanda stood up for her bow. There was some whistling from the audience, and the applause somehow got louder. After a while, Wanda walked off stage, and then came back for her encore. At this point it seemed that the entire hall had stood up, and you were nearly glowing from how blissful you felt in that very moment. When the applause finally died down, there was a brief intermission to reset the stage and move the piano. You waited backstage, and made a point to hydrate while you waited for the intermission to end.
Wanda eventually came over, accompanied by Natasha Romanov. The pianist had her arms full of flowers, as well as what looked to be a homemade card, presumably from her sons. Natasha, meanwhile, was helping her carry her loot.
âWanda, you were incredible!â You exclaimed, and the pianist beamed.
âYouâre too sweet, Y/N. Thank you. I think it went rather well,â Wanda said modestly, and Natasha snorted.
âHumble as ever, Wands,â Natasha joked.
âItâs really nice to see you again, Miss Romanov,â You greeted the violinist, and you meant it.
Natasha nodded, as Wanda excused herself to talk to other members of the orchestra. âI was happy to hear you changed your mind on Vienna. Weâre excited to have you. The group is a bit smaller than this orchestra, but we have a lot of great repertoire lined up.â
âI donâtâŠâ You were at a loss for words. âExcuse me?â
âI was a bit surprised to hear you reconsidered,â Natasha added. âMy assistant said youâd called earlier this morning to ask for the contract and travel details.â
Now, you had been a bit spacey over the past week with stress of concert preparations, but you knew that you did not contact Natasha. That left only one person. Agatha. But how did she even find out? Your eyes trailed over to Wanda, who was praising Dottie on one of her solos, before realizing you were being ridiculous. You knew Wanda wouldnât have said anything. But, it was clear Agatha was behind this. You just werenât sure why.
âOf course,â You finally answered, deciding you would correct the mistake later. âIâveâŠjust had so much on my mind.â
Natasha nodded once more. âWell, for what itâs worth I think you made the right choice. Iâm looking forward to working with you. Iâll see you next Saturday.â
She then excused herself to go back to Wanda just as the backstage lights flickered, signaling the end of the intermission. Great, you thought sarcastically, perfect timing. Scanning the room for Agatha, you realized you were out of time to find her, you needed to get back onstage. Grabbing your violin, you wracked your brain on if Agatha had done anything to suggest she knew about the audition, but you had nothing.
How could she do this? Youâd made your decision, and you werenât planning on changing it. Yes, you loved performing, it was what youâd always wanted; but now you wanted Agatha too. You didnât want to move to Vienna and potentially lose her, you werenât sure you could handle that. So, you made the executive decision to turn down the offer. As the orchestra tuned again, your brain anxiously went over any possible reason you could think of for why Agatha would have done this. Was she trying to get rid of you?
Agatha walked out on stage to more thunderous applause, and you took a deep breath. You couldnât worry about this now, youâd talk to her after and everything would be okay. As the first movement began, you slowly felt yourself begin to relax. Dvorakâs Symphony No. 9, or The New World Symphony, was still one of your all time favorites. Everything felt big and loud, and you were thrilled to be part of it.
Everyone else seemed to be more relaxed for the second half, even Agatha. Putting your mixed feelings aside for the moment, you couldnât help but observe Agatha like this. With every rehearsal she seemed to let her guard down more, and more. She was wildly conducting, and her hair was practically bouncing off her shoulders. The way she moved her hands was like she was telling a story, and you were always so mesmerized by it. She looked so serene when she was like this, and just like at the first rehearsal she was paying no mind to the score. Instead she was cueing the various sections for their entrances, and once you reached the end of the first movement she seemed to gain more energy as she ended her hands with a flourish.
The second movement has always been one of your favorites. It was less complex than the first movement, but still required you to use the proper techniques. Agatha once told you the most common mistake a musician makes is just playing the music on the page. She said there was so much more to it than just that, and she was right. It didnât matter how simple a piece appeared to be, there were dynamics, phrasing, vibrato, and at least a dozen other things to keep in mind while you were performing. Making music and sharing it was one of the best things that had ever happened to you, and you always made sure to give it your all.
This pattern continued all the way to the finale, the fourth movement. Agatha was practically jumping up and down on the podium as she conducted the opening phrase. Once again, you forced yourself to just concentrate on the music, and as the movement progressed you became bewitched from watching Agatha conduct. You had always understood why Agatha was as successful as she was. She was driven, motivated, beyond musically gifted. But there was one thing you had always failed to notice. When Agatha was on the podium, she could be herself. In these moments where she had her baton and the orchestra in front of her was when she was her most vulnerable. She was incredible and spellbinding, and you were hopelessly in love with her.
The ending of the last minute was a swell of notes from the brass section and a melody that sent the first violins high up on the fingerboard. It was extremely challenging to play in tune without falling behind, but you managed to do it. When Agatha conducted the final chord, you felt as if you were going to fall out of your chair. It was over, you did it. There was an outburst of applause from the audience, you lost track of how many times Agatha walked off and on stage from the standing ovations. You donât even remember walking off stage and packing up your violin, or congratulating Monica and your friends in the MSO. You barely remembered the walk to Agathaâs office, until you were knocking on the door.
Agatha opened it and gave you that special smile she seemed to have reserved just for you. âDarling, come in. Iâm so proud of you. How did it feel to perform?â
âIt felt incredible,â You admitted, giving her a curious look. âDid you plan all of this tonight so I could perform?â
âNot all of it,â Agatha corrected you, but she was still smiling. âI knew you were more than capable of doing this, and I wanted to remind you.â
As soon as she said those words it all started to make sense. âYou thought Iâd change my mind about Vienna.â
Your words seemed to startle the conductor, who looked at you in surprise. âI didnât-â
You cut her off with, âI know you know, Agatha.â
âHow?â She asked, genuinely curious.
âNatasha mentioned how happy she was that I called her assistant earlier this morning and changed my mind,â You repeated what Natasha had told you during intermission.
âYou know, I should be the one whoâs angry with you, dear,â Agatha pointed out, as she placed her baton on her desk.
Of course sheâd say that. Sighing, you moved closer to her. âHow do you figure?â
âYou had weeks to tell me about Vienna, and you didnât,â Agatha remarked, and you detected some hurt in her tone. âWhy didnât you tell me?â
âThere was no point in telling you when I already made up my mind,â You stated, growing irritated with her. âI donât want to move to Vienna, I want to be with you.â
âYou canât be my assistant forever,â Agatha argued, leaning against her desk. âAnd this is a solid job opportunity, Y/N. It would be foolish to turn it down.â
Throwing your head back in frustration, you took a deep breath before replying. âI already turned it down, Agatha. It was my decision, why canât you accept that? Do you really not want me to stay?â
Agatha rolled her eyes. âYes, Y/N. I absolutely loathe having you here. This is all part of my master plan to get rid of you.â
âReal mature,â You quipped, losing interest in arguing with her. âHow did you even find out about my audition?â
âWanda mentioned something about Natasha Romanov the other day, and I did some digging,â Agatha replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. âIt wasnât that hard to put the pieces together. I didnât even know you had gotten the job until I called Romanovâs assistant and pretended to be you.â
You stared at her in disbelief. âYou went through all of that work instead of just asking me?â
âIn my defense, would you have told me?â Agatha asked, and you realized she had a point.
âI donât know.â You looked guiltily at her. âIâm sorry, I shouldâve told you.â
Agatha waved a hand at your apology before pulling you closer to her. âItâs okay darling, Iâm not angry.â
You nestled your face in her neck before mumbling, âIâm still not taking that job though. Weâre going to be okay, right?â
Agatha stroked your hair and for a moment you thought you felt her breath hitch. âOf course dear, of course we are.â
The next week passed by slowly as the post concert high began to wear off. Agatha had given you the week off work, which you didnât realize you needed until you slept for over 16 hours straight from exhaustion. Things with Agatha were a little better after your discussion post concert, but there was still something that felt off. You didnât know how to describe it, and maybe it was just your anxiety messing with you, but Agatha felt distant. She had invited you to spend the week at her townhouse, and you hoped that meant you would spend more time together but youâd barely seen the conductor- sheâd spent the majority of her time at the office while you puttered around her home.
A week after the concert you were in bed reading a book when she sent you a text to meet her at the concert hall, and to bring your violin. You arrived nearly an hour later, out of breath as you practically ran the last few blocks. The lights were dim throughout the hall, save for the stage, where Agatha was sitting, waiting for you. As you approached her, you noticed how distracted she appeared to be.
âHey, sorry it took me so long. I tried to get a cab but traffic was crazy so I ended up just walking.â you explained, still trying to catch your breath. Agatha didnât say anything, so you continued. âI forgot my music at home, what did you want to work on?â
Agatha sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. âY/N, we need to talk.â
You felt your heartbeat stop at her words, and you tried to tell yourself it was probably nothing bad. It couldnât be anything bad, right? âOkay, talk about what?â
The moment she met your eyes was when you knew it was over.
âNo,â You managed to get out, looking at her as tears threatened to escape. âNo, no, no, no.â
Agatha took a deep breath, before standing up. âY/N, please donât make this more difficult than it needs to be.â
Her words sounded so cold and distant, but you could barely hear her over the sounds of your pulse ringing in your ears. Your chest slowly tightened, and you could barely breathe as you fought the tears hard, unwilling to cry in front of her. Taking a shaky breath, you shook your head. âI donât understand. What did I do wrong? I thought we were happy. I thought you were happy. Am I not making you happy?â
âThis isnât about my happiness, Y/N, itâs about you,â Agatha said gently, and you couldnât look at her. You knew if you did youâd start crying and you wouldnât be able to stop. âI know it doesnât seem like it now, but this is for the best.â
âYou have no right to tell me what will be the best thing for me, Agatha. Thatâs complete bullshit.â
Agatha sighed, as if she couldnât believe you were reacting this way. âY/NâŠâ
The tears that youâd been fighting had finally started to fall. âThis isnât fair, you said we were going to be okay. You told me that.â
âIâm sorry,â Agatha whispered, and you finally looked up to find her staring at you as if sheâd never see you again. âIâm sorry, but this is over. I canât do this anymore.â
âSo thatâs it?â You questioned. âWeâre over? Just like that?â
âIâm not going to allow you to throw away your career because of me,â Agatha retorted, growing more annoyed. âAnd donât act like this is so easy for me. I lo-â
Your eyes widened and Agathaâs quickly shut. Despite how quickly she cut herself off, you heard what she almost said. She loves you. Agatha Harkness loves you.
âI love you too,â You whispered, tears streaming down your face. âBut you donât have to do this. Iâll take the job in Vienna and we can stay together, okay? Wouldnât that be okay?â Agatha remained silent and you tried again. âPlease?â
âA clean break is for the best,â Agatha insisted, even as you continued to cry. âYouâre going to go to Vienna and flourish, Y/N. Your career is just beginning and I canât wait to see how far you go.â
âAgatha, no, please.â
She gently wiped the tears from your face before cupping your cheek. âYouâre going to be okay, I promise you will be. Youâre going to look back at all of this one day and it will be nothing more than a fuzzy memory.â
âI donât want that, I want you,â You protested, breaking free of her grasp. âPlease, if you love me you wonât do this.â
âIâm doing this because I love you, darling,â Agatha corrected you, leaning in to kiss your forehead. Her lips lingered for an extra second and again you felt her breath hitch. As she pulled away, you watched her regain composure.
âTry not to forget any of our lessons, hm?â She reminded you, as she lightly grabbed your chin, but you refused to look at her. âMaybe one day youâll be the soloist for this very orchestra.â
It felt as if time was slowing down, and there was nothing you could do but sit on the stage and listen to Agatha attempt to rationalize why this was a good idea. As she was speaking you knew her mind was made up, and it didnât matter how much you cried or begged, she wasnât going to change it. You realized then that one of the most challenging parts of falling in love with her was coming to the realization that no matter how hard you tried, you couldnât save yourself from having your heart shattered if she changed her fickle mind about you. In a strange way, this felt inevitable.
It was a lot like performing, in a way. When you were in the midst of a performance, it was pure ecstasy, and you would ride off that high until the very end. It felt like you were flying, and every movement of your bow sent you higher and higher through the sky. But there was always the fear of falling, of missing an entrance or not hitting the right note, and that would send you plummeting to the ground. Practice could eliminate many of those errors, but youâd learned over the years that sometimes life could throw you curveballs.This is what that felt like, as Agatha all but held your heart in her hands, letting it all fall. There was nothing else to be done, you had to let go.
You never felt like you really knew the right thing to say, and it always felt as if you figured it out when it was too late. But this was the first time you knew what you wanted to say, and you were finally sure. When you opened your mouth, you felt your throat clench from the pain that was aching in your chest. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you looked up to find her eyes locked on yours. âItâs okay, Iâm going to be okay.â
It didnât feel that way now, it felt like your world was collapsing, but you werenât saying those words for yourself. You were saying them for her. The rational side of your brain was arguing that Agatha hadnât been a part of your life for very long, but the few months you spent with her had more of a lasting impact on you than relationships that lasted for years.
You had learned a lot of things from Agatha- you had learned that she preferred her coffee to be scorching hot. You knew she was an incredible cook, and that she had a library full of books that would take you years to get through. She had a soft spot for Señor Scratchy, and she had a terrible sweet tooth. Even though she enjoyed terrorizing the interns, she was also fiercely protective of them against Hayward and anyone else who tried to harass them. And now, you realize, she has taught you one, last valuable lesson- nothing truly good can stay.
Agatha Harkness was one of the most complicated and absolutely infuriating individuals you had ever encountered, but you loved her. You had always loved her, and you probably always will. So now, you now had to do this for the both of you- to assuage whatever guilt she might be feeling and to gather the remains of your dignity.
Agatha froze, and you could see her tense up at your words, and you continued. âIâm going to be okay. You can let me go.â
In the countless hours youâd spent in the conductorâs presence, you never saw her cry. But there was a single tear slowly streaming down her cheek, and you slowly wiped it off. âItâs okay, Agatha. I promise.â You werenât sure who you were trying to convince, her or you.
Closing her eyes, she placed her hand over yours, leaving it on her cheek. You werenât sure how long you stayed that way, huddled together in the empty concert hall, but it was over all too soon when she finally took a step back. âYou have a flight to catch, dear. The itinerary I had sent over stated that rehearsal starts tomorrow.â
Just as you went to tell her you didnât have a plane ticket, or a suitcase packed, she pulled an envelope out of her coat pocket. Handing it to you, it was not a huge surprise when you found a one way plane ticket to Vienna inside. You felt your chest tighten again. âWhen did you buy this?â
âWhen I found out you got the job,â Agatha replied, her voice barely above a whisper. âIâm horrified at the prospect of flying in coach, so itâs first class.â
Under normal circumstances you would have laughed, but you donât think you were capable of that at the moment. âI donât even have my luggage, or my passport.â
âI have a bag packed of all the things youâve left at my place, and Iâll send over whatever else you need once you get settled,â Agatha countered, and after a pause continued with, âAnd Sam gave me your passport yesterday.â She pulled the passport out of her other pocket. At your horrified glance, she gently shushed you before you could get a word out. âHe didnât know what it was for, I said it was a surprise.â
She had done all of this because she knew it was the only way to get you on that plane. Now, you were still angry with her for making this decision without you, but you were running out of time. You both were. Standing up, you closed the distance between the two of you, and kissed her. Agathaâs lips melted into yours, and you tried to forget that this was the last time youâd be with her like this. Unlike many of the other times you kissed her, there was no desperation or urgency. You were just two people in love, getting ready to say goodbye. Your face was still soaked with tears when you finally pulled back, and you saw it was partially due to Agatha. The conductorâs single tear had turned into at least a dozen.
âI really do love you,â Agatha said, and you had never doubted that. âI hope you know that.â You did, you knew.
âI really love you too,â You said, your voice starting to crack from the sobs that were attempting to come out again.
âHank will take you to the airport,â Agatha added, rolling out the suitcase she had hidden behind the stairs. You had still partially been in denial that you had to leave, and the closer it got didnât make it any easier. The conductor kissed your forehead again, and gently stroked your hair before releasing you for the last time. âItâs time to go, darling.â
Walking out of the concert hall, with Agatha rolling your luggage out, you grabbed her hand, while telling yourself it was going to be okay. Every step was a painful reminder that you had seconds left with her. When you made it outside, you saw the town car parked out front, with Hank waiting. You had never been good at goodbyes, or dealing with change so you usually avoided them when you could. But there was no escaping Agatha, who politely waved Hank back in the car as she put your luggage in the trunk. This was it.
Agatha opened your door, and carefully placed your violin case in the backseat. âDonât forget to loosen your pegs before you take off. Wouldnât want any of the strings to break.â
You knew her well enough to know she was trying to make light of the situation, but she didnât have to. âThank you, for everything.â
âI meant it when I told you I saw a lot of potential in you,â Agatha said quietly, and was nervously fidgeting her hands. âYouâre a lot more talented than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. You need to stop apologizing for taking up space, and start demanding more of it.â She cradled your face in her hands one last time, giving you a sweet and gentle kiss. âKnock âem dead.â
She helped you in the car, and you desperately wished for her to get in with you, but you knew she wouldnât. It wasnât until after she shut the door did reality finally sink in. You were leaving, without her. The car windows were tinted but you could make out Agatha standing there, watching you drive away until you rounded a corner and she disappeared. While the tears had flowed nonstop before, you found that now you couldnât cry no matter how hard you tried. You just sat there, watching the city you spent years loving pass you by. The pain that had been building up in your chest had finally imploded, and left you numb.
You werenât sure what the future would hold now. Vienna could be a complete waste of time, and maybe you would come back and try to reconcile with Agatha. There was a small voice in the back of your mind pointing out that there was also a chance you would love it there. It was impossible to say now with your heartbreak so fresh and still causing your entire body to ache with pain. So you did the only thing that would help right now. Pulling your headphones out of your bag, you put them on. Scrolling through your library of songs, you knew there was only one you wanted to hear.
Vitaliâs Chaconne in G Minor. You sat back in your seat as the opening notes played. It was funny, in a way, thinking that all of this started because of this piece. You thought back to that fateful day in the concert hall, meeting Agatha for the first time. Who knew then that it would lead to all of this? Allowing your shattered heart to be soothed by the calming sound of the violin and piano, you looked at the plane ticket Agatha gave you. You didnât know what was going to happen now, and you certainly didnât know if you were ready for it. But if you had learned anything from Agatha, it was to worry less and act more. You didnât have to have all of the answers, or any answer right now. All you had to do was get on that plane and perform.
Agatha Harkness had made you fall in love harder than you ever had before, and managed to crush every expectation of love you ever believed in the exact same way. You werenât sure if youâd be able to forgive her for doing this, but that wasnât important now. Turning your focus back on the music, you were reminded of how much you loved this piece. It was like Agatha said all those months ago, not enough violinists appreciated the beauty of a chaconne. But you did, and you intended to continue on wherever your journey took you next.
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