Chapter 1

I dropped my backpack on the ground in my room after another long day of school. The semester has been rough, and this cold weather just makes it even worse. I just want to be done and start my life already, but only three more years left before that can happen. College is expensive which is why I live at home and just commute every day. However, it is a nice feeling to come home to your cozy bedroom where I can lay down on my bed full of pillows and drown in the comfort of them. A lot of my friends tell me that change is good, I should try to move out and live with a roommate in the city or to go out more often and meet new people. I agree, change is good but not for me. I believe I am outgoing and social, but I know I would much rather put on my pajamas and spend a weekend at home in bed like always. The inches of snow and below freezing temperatures outside doesn't help in persuading me to go out. Which is why I enjoy hobbies that don't include going out all the time like drawing, reading, and playing piano.

Piano has been a part of my life since I was nine years old, my dad was very much into music and would want me to go to a music school so we could form a family band together. It sounds silly now but at that time a family band sounded like the best idea ever. Even after he passed, I continue attending piano lessons and improving my skills which has benefited me in scholarships at school and is obviously an amazing talent to have. Now I mostly attend private lessons with instructors and for some reason there has been a shortage of them around here because many keep leaving, I've had two different instructors in one year once which is insane. Today, I have someone new once again.

"Kate! Come down here, I need some help." My mom shouts from the kitchen. Really...I just got to lay down.

"Coming!" I respond and pull myself out of bed. Even though it's been five years since dad passed, my mom hasn't gone on a single date with anyone else. She believes that he was the only one for her and I really hope I could find the same love like that someday. I walk down the stairs and see her in the kitchen with flour, eggs, milk, and just a whole mess on the counter. I laugh to myself as I could see her trying to read a recipe on her phone, she has been trying to learn how to bake more and get better at it. She looks up at me and smiles before blowing her long bangs out of her face.

"Hey, so I'm trying to make this bread recipe and they keep saying I can't allow the yeast to touch anything liquid, but I don't really understand how to do that." She explains to me while I read through the instructions.

"Mom, you found a recipe for those who own a bread maker. We don't even have a break maker, that's why most of this doesn't even make sense." I respond while setting her phone back down.

"What? There are bread makers? Why did you never tell me this?" She responds, astonished at the idea of a bread maker.

"I guess you can add that to your Christmas list." I reply before checking the time. The lesson is three hours, six to nine which is not terrible because that's how much I usually practice for.

"Well, help me clean this mess up then before you leave," she says while cleaning up the white flour on the counter, "are you excited to meet your new instructor?"

"I guess, at this point I almost don't care because I feel like they will leave again in a few months like the rest of them," I say while moving the trash bin closer to the counter.

"Well, don't think that way. I hope this one is good and sees how great you are and decides to stay just for you." She smiles at me; her apron is full of flour as well. She went a bit crazy with trying to make bread this time.

I let out a sigh, I guess I shouldn't think negatively about it but maybe this one is actually passionate about teaching and will help me move further and improve. We finish wiping down the counter before I grab my music bag full of sheet music and tell my mom goodbye. I go outside to see my car covered in snow, once again for like the hundredth time today. I start to scrape off the snow before my phone rings, it's a random number. Could be a telemarketer but it could also be something important. I answer the phone call as I continue shoving snow off my car.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Hi, is this Kate?" A man responds as I get in and start my car.

"Yes, who's this?" I ask as I pull out of my driveway, the drive should be about 20 minutes.

"This is Harry Styles your new instructor I guess, I just have to call and make sure you're coming by."

"Oh, yes I am on my way right now actually." I respond as I carefully maneuver the icy roads.

"Alright, don't be late." He responds and hangs up, not rude at all. By his voice, he sounds fairly young to be an instructor. Possibly even around my age which is impressive to me. I pull into the driveway and park before making my way towards the door. I ring the doorbell and a tall, handsome guy answers the door. Am I at the right place?

"You must be Kate," he says and stretches a hand towards me which I can see is covered in so many random tattoos while almost all his fingers had bulky rings on them.

"Uh, yeah. Nice to meet you, Mister Styles." I respond while shaking his hand. He motions for me to come in. It was a nice home, the piano stood out in the living room of course. It was a classic, black Steinway which looked incredibly sleek.

"Isn't she a beauty?" He says while walking next to me.

"Yeah, definitely." I respond, why am I being so awkward? I just need to calm down, just because he is attractive to me doesn't mean I am to him. He is probably married or something, it honestly shouldn't matter. He is only my piano instructor, that's it.

"Let me take this," he says while walking behind me and reaching for my coat. I sort of clam up and become more nervous. I don't know what has gotten into me, but I can't let these nerves embarrass me and my presentation. I give him a soft smile before walking over to the piano to set up my stuff.

"What would you like me to start off with first?" I ask him while pulling out my sheets. I tape the long ones together instead of putting them in a binder, it is just easier to lay it out and involves a lot less of turning pages.

"Whatever your pretty hands play the best." He replies while sitting down on a white couch near the piano. He was wearing all black, almost makes him look intimidating as he settles in and uses his hand to push his hair away from his face. He looks at me and gives me a smirk, he has stubble growing on his upper lip line.

"Well..." he says, "are you going to sit there and stare at me or are you going to play something already?"

I blink and look away back at my notes, that is embarrassing. He really called me out on that, he didn't have to, but he did. I pull out notes to Fantasia in D minor by Mozart and lay them out before resting my hands on my lap and mentally preparing. It's only about a five-minute piece and it's a good choice to show him how musical I am. I take a deep breath before pressing my fingers against the ivory keys and zone everything out, including him. I make sure I give my full attention when playing, it's sort of a break from reality and it's just you and the piano. I believe piano is one of the only instruments that's sort of a secret talent. Other instruments like the flute or violin, you have to carry them around and it's obvious that is what you play. When it comes to piano, it's just a little secret you carry with you but when you sit down in front of one then it's just like 'wow, I would have never guessed that you play an instrument.'

I lift my hands up from the keys and set them back down on my lap, indicating that it's done. I look to see he is no longer sitting on the couch but is standing behind me now. Before I get a chance to look behind me, he takes a seat next to me on the bench. He looked over the notes for a minute before holding one of my arms by the wrist and gently moving it in a circular motion.

"I noticed that you don't have too much movement right here, it looks very stiff and while playing you should just let it relax." He says while he moves his hand up my forearm. I look at him and make eye contact as he continues to talk about the motion of my wrists and the positioning of them. Most of my previous instructors were in their mid-thirties or even sixty years old, but he definitely looks like he's in his twenties. Maybe I shouldn't have thought negatively about this new instructor.

"Does that make sense?" He asks as I come back to reality.

"Yeah, it does." I respond as I set my hand back in my lap, he looks at me questionably.

"Repeat what I just said to you."

"What?" I respond, oh no... he is one of those instructors. Mister Styles keeps staring at me as he waits for me to say something.

"I don't like it when students don't listen to me..." He says as he stands up from the seat.

"I'm sorry." I quickly apologize because he doesn't look very happy.

"No, no. It's alright, it's the first lesson. Just know that I don't appreciate it when students come here to learn but don't listen to anything I have to say," he explains while pacing near the piano, "if this does happen again, just know that I am in a way traditional and do find ways to punish students."

"Punish?" I ask nervously. If he's old fashioned, the only thing that comes to my mind is a wooden ruler being smacked across my hands or getting assigned too much homework. Mister Styles leans against the piano next to me and looks me over carefully. I start fiddling with my fingers out of nervousness. He comes up to me and slowly but carefully moves my hair back out of my face. My heart could just burst out of my chest right now, I could feel my cheeks burning up as his hand gently caresses my face. I look up to meet his gaze, he studied my face for a moment before stepping away like nothing happened.

"Anyways, our time is up, but I would like to see a change next time." He says while putting his hands in his pockets.

"So, should I just study this piece for next time then?" I ask him as I grab my notes from the piano and put them back in my bag. I was trying to act casual and catch my breath from that moment. I walk towards the door where my coat was hanging on a coat rack, I go to grab it, but he already does it for me. He comes up behind me and helps me put it on before I turn around to face him.

"Yes, I will contact you with any additional information about our next lesson." He responds as I bundle up to face the cold weather outside.

"Okay, well, I'm going to get going. It was nice meeting you, Mister Styles." I smile before heading towards the door. He opens it for me, and the cold air hits me.

"I'll see you soon." He responds before closing the door, I walk back to my car in just shock. What just happened? He was literally just staring at me for the longest time but the way he was touching me was so gentle and almost soothing. My mind was running through what had just happened, completely confused and unsure on what to do or feel about this. What was the reason? I drive home trying to remember everything that had happened, how it happened, and why it had happened in the first place. But all I know is that this year is definitely going to be different.