"Is my voice really that terrible?" Adrien's question startles me.

I snap up with wide eyes, his hands pushed into his pants pockets, a strained smile on his lips.

I shake my head no as I change my sitting position to stand up, but he crosses the few steps between us and sits next to me, surprising me.

"Then why did you leave?" he asks, studying me closely.

With a shrug, I gaze elsewhere, pushing my glasses up.

"I wouldn't mind if you tell me my voice sucks," he says after a long moment of silence.

I hold back my smile, and assure him, "It doesn't,"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod his head.

"Did someone say something?" he questions with caution, lines of worry appearing on his features.

He certainly does not want to drop the subject.

I push my hand through my hair, "No, I left because I wasn't wanted," I admit. Maybe it's because of the wine I blurted out the truth that easily. It's not like me to voice these matters.

"I wanted you there," he replies in a beat. The intensity of his gaze makes me peek at him. Our eyes lock, his pupils dilating, leaving a ring of bluish-green.

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm finding it hard not to believe him.

Also, what to respond to his comment? Thank him? Object him?

A textbook should be written, revealing appropriate answers for such statements.

I face away, I need to come up with an answer before it gets awkward.

His Adam's apple bobs, "What were you thinking about anyway?" he queries.

Relief washes through me, but admitting what I was pondering over is embarrassing.

I shrug again. "Nothing,"

He snorts, shaking his head, "Didn't look like nothing," he states with a loop side smile.

I don't know if I'm overthinking or not, but it seems he has changed since that morning. He acts more patient around me. I can't identify if it's out of guilt or he's getting used to the way I am. That sometimes I take longer than others to answer. I haven't decided yet, which I would prefer it to be.

"I am a very nonjudgmental person, you can try by telling me," he arches his eyebrows.

This time I snort, and he rolls his eyes, adding, "I'm working to not be judgmental," he raises his palms in mock defense.

I sigh, he's trying to put up with me, the least I can do is not make it harder. I rub my forehead and start explaining. Halfway through my explanations, I glance at him. His expression takes me by surprise, making me lose the chain of words. His eyes are wide with astonishment while beaming.

"Don't stop," he softly says, not for once looking away from me.

"That's the idea, the rest is just boring science stuff," I mumble, and stare at my hands.

"It's not. And can't you get how amazing it is," he exclaims.

I face him, furrowing my brows, and tilt my head, "What is?"

His eyes widen even more with disbelief, "You see the big picture and dive into the smallest details of it. From the structure of elements that build and hold them together, and so on! Like those science animations starting from particles extending to galaxies."

I cannot discern his point. These are my constant random thoughts, only for time pass.

I open my mouth to differ. But he holds his hand up, and speaks, "I know you're going to decline. But tell you what, I don't agree, because it is, and I'm not planning on changing my mind." he states. A beat later in a lower tone he adds, "That being said, it's really cool, the way you perceive everything,"

Something for certain has gotten into him.

With a smile I reply, "Thanks, I guess,"

He laughs. Moments slip by and long after his laughter dies out, his focus fixes on the pool. The silence stretches before he looks back at me. An emotion I can't identify shadows his features and clouds his eyes, "I should be the one thanking you,"

I squint and try to figure out the reason he would say that. Being an outcast might be bearable to some degree. But a stupid outcast? That is out of the question.

"Thanks for telling me. And for still being around, or not making me leave," he says in a low voice, his cheeks tinting pink.

I gape at him, I have no idea what to respond to that either.

Adrien's acting weird and I'm unable to understand him. Incomprehensible things only cause me more anxiety. Given the circumstances, he's not helping.

"Not once I realized how awful I was being. But I never wanted to harm you. Yes, I was mad at you and jealous of you," he pauses. His Adam's apple bobs before he inhales deeply, and continues, "but never to the extent to hurt you that much. I-I honestly used to think you don't even listen, let alone be affected. I'm so sorry. And an apology can't make up for it... you didn't deserve that, Eleanor. And I appreciate that you told me the truth. I had to know. And that you're here... listening to me." he drops his head and stares at his clasped hands. "I am really sorry for everything I've done," he studies me a second afterward. 

My fingers fidget of their own accord, as I stare down at my now clammy palms. My brain resembles an infinite void.

We fall into the vast bubble of quietude. Until he clears his throat and begins, "They must have a keyboard somewhere in the house. You can play along with us in the songs, plus you'll have something to do too." he tries to speak in a cheerful mood. His face in contrast with his voice.

My attention snaps to him. I force out a laugh as I inform, "I cannot play,"

He inspects me, a corner of his mouth lifting.

"I appreciate the offer though," I add hoping to stop him from staring at me.

"You can't? Like at all," his eyebrows raise.

I lift both my shoulders, "At all," I confirm, trying my best not to become annoyed.

"Okay," he nods, pressing his lips into a thin line. What has gotten into him? "Are you sure?" he questions.

With effort, I hold back a groan. "Yes, I assure you I'd be aware if I somehow start playing an instrument," I struggle to reply in a composed tone, masking my irritation.

"Okay," he drawls and flashes his dimples.

In an alternative world, if I wasn't such a nervous wreck, I might have snapped what the hell he means. But we're not in that life, so I let it slide.

I scan the pool, keeping my mind vacant.

He speaks again, "You do realize you're an awful liar for someone who tends to run to lying rather than saying fuck off,"

"I'm not an awful liar," I fire at him without once considering what I'm implying. Only when I say it out loud, it hits me how inappropriate of an answer that was. Basically admitting I lie. Great! I try to fix it by adding, "And I am not a liar, for starters,"

He laughs and I resist the urge to cross my hands in front of my chest. That would only make me seem like a spoiled and frustrated kid. Instead, I push my glasses up my nose.

"Sure," he grins, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "But," he continues, attempting to sound serious, "I would suggest you practice more. I can always tell when you're lying, or when you decide to lie. And begin making one up," he explains sounding amused, a warm smile softening his features as he studies my expression.

I attempt to defend myself. But he doesn't give me enough time to utter a word, even if I had any, by explaining, "You get this look. Like you are solving the hardest math equation you've ever seen. Or trying to come up with the right solution for an open question."

"I do not get a look!" I argue as a toothy smile plasters on his face.

"Sure you do." he playfully says. His gaze not breaking away from me. Before he shakes his head and pushes his hand through his hair, continuing, "anyway, back to you being able to play, so you can't? Last time I'm asking,"

I bite down an impolite retort and reply in a sharp clipped tone, "I don't,"

"Okay," he shifts and fishes out his phone from his pants pocket. Waving it in the air, he continues, "I literally have solid proof showing otherwise," and with that, he dives into it.

I gawk at him, trying to hide my confusion. My eyebrow arches as I focus on attempting to recall if I've ever mentioned otherwise.

"Here," he reveals with a satisfied smile. And scoots closer to me, holding his iPhone in a way that I can see the screen too, and presses the play.

I lean into Adrien as I observe the video. The camera in the first few seconds is the image of the ground, with familiar tiles.

It hits me full force. That's our music room. Jace's voice plays from the speaker as he announces he has started recording, and then he directs the phone's camera on me.

The fifteen-year-old me groans, "You're so annoying and demanding-" but Mom cuts me off as she calls my name in a warning manner.

I walk to Jace and add, "Fill in the blanks with my usual titles for you," making him laugh.

He grasps my hand as he pulls me to himself and turns the camera. We come into the frame. He beams at me, his dimples on display and I grin, "A selfie with the queen of selfies," he jokes and I glare playfully at him. He knew how much I hated selfies, and how I could never get one properly. Never stopped teasing me about it. He puts his arm around my waist and I hold my fingers in the rock n' roll sign as he clicks the picture.

We both appeared so happy. Our faces shining with hope and happiness.

My heart clenches, I hadn't heard his voice after the accident, I had no videotapes or audio of him.

He shouldn't have died that night. I miss my best friend.

I remember the occasion, it's Christmas. Jace's last Christmas.

Grace walks in, followed by Theodor and then Avery. We step aside and he records them as Theo holds his hands in a peace sign.

My laughter fills the video as I complain, "Be creative for once,"

Theo surveys the room, and when he catches Mom looking at him, he sets on glaring at me and I giggle.

Mom and Dad sit on a loveseat together. Grace and Avery choose the sofa facing the piano.

Jace ambles around, taping the paintings and instruments. He stops in front of the cello and asks with amazement, "Can you play this too?" before turning his phone's camera toward me.

Busy adjusting the sleeve of my purple velvet dress, I glance at him. But Avery answers in my stead, "The entire room was made for her, so obviously she can play all of them,"

"Holy sh-" he begins, but remembers my parents and clears his throat awkwardly, and starts moving around, until he reaches my violin and zooms on it.

"Hey, Ellie, our usual?" Theodor suggests.

"That's boring, let's do something new," I speak and Jace focuses on me. Playfulness sparking my eyes as I grin at him.

In that moment, staring at my fifteen-year-old self, the difference dawns on me. How demoralized and broken I've become. This is what my brother was referring to in Geneva. My heart tightens at the drastic change. From six years ago to now.

I miss the former me.

With a few blinks, I drag myself back to reality and the video.

I straightened my skirt, Theo already seated on the stool. I poke him playfully before sitting next to him. Jace walks to us and stands near me.

After exchanging a few words, Theodor adjusts his position and with my nod, he plays Danse Macabre. A few notes in I join him, performing piano four hands. Our fingers dancing on the black and white keys, fluid and graceful. A carefree smile plasters across my face as I move my head from side to side, becoming one with the melody. I still remember how amazing it felt.

The song turns into a background tune as I lose the battle between my logic and emotion. My mind wanders to ten days before the 'pill plan gone wrong' incident. Mom's voice echoes in my skull.

"If you had invested this time into anything else, you would've become exceptional. But you had to do what you believed was correct. When do you ever listen to us? All those years of practice, bringing tutors, putting up with their ridiculous sounds, you gave it all away. You've disappointed me again, Eleanor. If only you had put this effort into your music, it would've had a much better outcome than this madness of Astronomy and physics. Is there a single task you start and get to the end of it? Have you ever finished anything? All you do is disappoint us. Ever thought of that? Your incapability to sticking to one thing and excelling in it. I'm so tired of repeating myself every day. Don't stare at me like that! Go to your room."

I blink a few times, pulling myself to the present. Pushing the picture of Mom's raised eyebrows, and widened eyes due to anger into the back of my brain, in a box that is never meant to be opened.

Theo and I are still playing in the video. I peek at Adrien who is looking at it with astonishment. As if it's his first time seeing the tape, or anyone behind a piano, for that matter.

That's the last day I touched any instrument.

I didn't expect Jace to share these videos... maybe Adrien came across it after Jace's accident.

He stares at me with expectant eyes. "You call this can't play? Because I don't know what your standards are, but in worldwide, normal people standard, that is not called not playing,"

I stretch my hands, placing them on my knees, drumming them as I try to come up with a brief explanation.

"I..." I start, glancing at him. His unwavering gaze still fixed on me, making me avoid it. "What I meant was..." I begin again. The logic section of my brain cannot seem to find a reason I shouldn't tell him the complete truth. Weird. I assume the wine has affected my thinking. "I haven't played in a long while, and it's only natural to forget," pleased with my response, I nod to myself. And then face him.

"You don't forget playing an instrument," he argues, scrutinizing me.

What is wrong with him? Why is he so suddenly interested in anything related to me?

I glance at his phone's screen. The melody is reaching its end. Dad engrossed in his phone. After a few seconds, he stands up, rolling down his sleeves. The song finishes and everyone claps. Theo and I bow playfully.

"There's an emergency, I need to go the hospital," Dad announces.

The video ends there, but I remember the rest of it. Theodor complains to him for never being with us, and our father scolds him for not understanding the importance of his job. He should understand even on holidays people can be dying, and Dad might be able to stop it.

Theo never made peace with that. Perhaps that's one of the major reasons he prefers to spend the breaks with Grace's family.

A sigh escapes from me before I reply, "Yes, but you get slow. Plus, it's been ages from the last time I played."

He puts his phone aside. His eyes move back to me and tilts his head asking, "Why?"

I shrug. Because I won't ever share after Mom's little speech, I couldn't bring myself to look at any of my instruments. Also, after Jace and the whole realization of being a true failure, I had this immense urge for penance, leading me to cut off anything I enjoyed. Self-pity and self-loathing consumed me to a point where I no longer relished things I loved.

In fact, it's a sign of depression. But I'm not planning on opening that part just yet, even for myself.

Seeing he's still waiting for an answer, and that he claims to know when I lie. I decide to give him the excuse I used for myself, "Because I got busy with school work,"

"You can't put something you love away, because of your workload. If you like it enough you'll always make time for it. That's what everybody does. That is basically the main purpose of prioritizing matters." he states.

A smile creeps to my face, "Well, as I much as I enjoyed playing the piano, or the violin or cello, they were never my choices. It was what my parents wanted for me." I explain truthfully.

What has gotten into me! Why the hell did I say that? And why am I not anxious?

A second afterward, I remember wine has gotten into my system. I hope that can justify the lack of nervousness.

"Okay," he starts uncertain, a corner of his lips quirk up. Animated, he questions, "What did you want to learn then?" he locks his gaze with me. His pupils dilating.

My heart rate shoots up at the sudden amount of attention he's diverted to me again.

A breathy laugh stumbles out of me, "I will not tell you that,"

"Why not?" his face falls, disappointment staining his voice. A heartbeat later, his eyes spark as they widen, "let me guess," he exclaims and squints, rubbing his index finger on his chin. "Harp?" he asks with the same eagerness.

What impression do I have on people?

"No!" I knit my brows. But the corners of my lips turn up.

He lists off random instruments. Each sounding more unsure than the previous one.

With a scrunched-up face, I shake my head no for each. Unable to stop myself from giggling.

"I'm running out of options!" he complains.

I beam at him and in that instant, I decide that it might not be as embarrassing as I made it out to be in my mind. So I reveal, "Drums,"

He gapes at me for a few seconds before breathing out, "No way," after a moment of hesitancy he adds, "I never could have guessed that, wow,"

I sway with soundless laughter, keeping my palm over my mouth as I watch him. "Any other instruments?" he wonders.

"Electric guitar," I answer with a grin.

"Whoa," he breathes out, his eyebrows raised high. He studies me with a loop sided smile. "To be honest, I'm speechless, I can't even picture you with them,"

"I wanted to be able to play what I listen to," I tell him. Because playing that music hits differently. It feels much better. I still remember the thrill I had each time I played Adele's Rolling in the deep.

"Fair enough," he nods.

The glass door slides open and Arianna walks out, "What are you two doing here?" she approaches us, placing her hands on her hips. "Come on in. Adi, everyone wants more songs. And Eleanor, you're not ditching this time. Get off your asses, both of you."

He rolls his eyes before pushing himself off of the ground. Reluctant about returning, I don't move. Adrien holds his hand out for me with an encouraging smile.

"Ellie," Arianna urges with enthusiasm.

I stare at Adrien's outstretched arm. Defeated, I accept it. His fingers wrap around my hand in a firm grip. His grin widens, dimples on full display as he pulls me to my feet. For a moment he locks his eyes with mine, an unreadable emotion flashes in them before I look elsewhere. Letting go of his palm, he remains for a second longer before his fingers unwrap. Arianna walks to me, locking her arm with me and drags me back. Adrien follows closely.

We step inside the house and Arianna sends Adrien ahead of us and then stops. Facing me she speaks in a soft voice, "I'm sorry I ditched you, I promise won't happen again, and if it did, don't walk away. I'd rather you pour a whole beer can on me than walking out that way, makes me feel like shit. But I guarantee to not repeat it," her round eyes scan my features.

I smile at her and nod. She beams at me and throws her arms around me, pulling me for a hug.

"Now let's have some fun," she enthuses.

+++

((Well, what do you think about this chapter? 

What are your thoughts on Arianna?

TBH, I don't have much to say, I love you if you have read this story up to this point. Thank you so much and I hope you enjoyed it <3 ))