Welcome
The cab stopped in front of the white mansion after entering the circular driveway. From Andrea's seat at the back, he can see the aesthetic garden surrounding the mansion, it was breathtaking with bonsais and a variation collection of roses. Though he had seen the photo of the place where he will temporarily live for the next one and a half month, yet he is taken aback looking at it in real life. Outside the photo, it is even more marvellous. The house looks new, but the structure isn't, it look like something come from the Victoria time with a large Gothic black door with complicated patterns running along the length and marble abutments standing either sides. The house, put into simple word, is just exquisite.
After paying the driver, Andrea took his only suitcase and the violin that he always hold dearly to himself -the last gift his dad had given him- to the front door. Andrea reaches for the metal loop on the door to knock, but before his fingers can touch the loop, the door opens. "Right, the surveillance cameras at the front gate." Andrea thinks.
An old man wearing a fitted black vest stepping out from inside the mansion, he is someone you would expect meeting in somewhere like this place, just like the riches in the movies. The man's face is all serious, his mouth is a tight line under his thick moustache, his eyes taking Andrea in. Under the cold stare of the stranger, Andrea shifts uncomfortable, suddenly self-conscious of the clothes he is wearing, though it is the best suit he has ever owned after the tragedy.
"Hello, you must be Andrea Swaskope," the man says, more of a statement than a question, "Welcome to the Ashton's mansion, I am George Savi, the butler of this house. Now, allow me to tell you where your room and the practice studio will be. Please come on in."
Mr. Savi moved and the inside of the house comes into focus. The wall reflected images as if it was moulded out of gold, Chandeliers gleaming brightly from the ceiling like it was made of diamonds, heavy red velvet curtains draped over the ceiling-to-floor windows created an imperial atmosphere. There in the centre is a large staircase that parted in two directions but both leading up, with a big fireplace right in the middle. Mr. Savi leads Andrea to the staircase then turns left where the the staircase is parted, his feet skid across the over-polished wooden floor as if he is walking on thin ice, then the sound of Andrea's feet and Mr. Savi's are muffled by the plush crimson carpet at the top of the stair. Andrea keeps on following the butler throughout corridors that seems like a labyrinth.
His friends said he's lucky to be chosen, one out of a hundred violinists in the competition, but Andrea knows it was not his luck that claimed his place here in the mansion, it was his talent on the violin, his gifted fingers. The flames of his dark motivation. Mr. Savi stops abruptly in front of an old looking wooden door, he unlocking the door by one of his keys from the chain he takes out of his pocket. Andrea wonders why hasn't Mr. Savi lost track of his abundance of keys, then concluded that maybe it's the reason why he is a butler.
"This is the room where you will be in for the next one and a half month. The studio is just down to the rightbcorridor at the dead end on this floor, you won't be able to miss it. You will have free time to practice or rest for this afternoon, dinner will be send into your room for today, you will have an official schedule tomorrow. You can go any where on this floor and the garden in a radical distance of 500 m but no further from that, and be ready at 7am tomorrow, you got that?"
Andrea nods at the information Mr. Savi just informed him, and the butler said goodnight then turns and disappears around the corner. Andrea turns on the light and locks his bedroom's door. Took a deep breath, Andrea gets out his phone and begins to dial the numbers he knows by heart, he has an important call to make. stare of the stranger, Andrea shifts uncomfortable, suddenly self-conscious of the clothes he is wearing, though it is the best suit he has ever owned after the tragedy.
"Hello, you must be Andrea Swaskope," the man says, more of a statement than a question, "Welcome to the Ashton's mansion, I am George Savi, the butler of this house. Now, allow me to tell you where your room and the practice studio will be. Please come on in."
Mr. Savi moved and the inside of the house comes into focus. The wall reflected images as if it was moulded out of gold, Chandeliers gleaming brightly from the ceiling like it was made of diamonds, heavy red velvet curtains draped over the ceiling-to-floor windows created an imperial atmosphere. There in the centre is a large staircase that parted in two directions but both leading up, with a big fireplace right in the middle. Mr. Savi leads Andrea to the staircase then turns left where the the staircase is parted, his feet skid across the over-polished wooden floor as if he is walking on thin ice, then the sound of Andrea's feet and Mr. Savi's are muffled by the plush crimson carpet at the top of the stair. Andrea keeps on following the butler throughout corridors that seems like a labyrinth.
His friends said he's lucky to be chosen, one out of a hundred violinists in the competition, but Andrea knows it was not his luck that claimed his place here in the mansion, it was his talent on the violin, his gifted fingers. The flames of his dark motivation. Mr. Savi stops abruptly in front of an old looking wooden door, he unlocking the door by one of his keys from the chain he takes out of his pocket. Andrea wonders why hasn't Mr. Savi lost track of his abundance of keys, then concluded that maybe it's the reason why he is a butler.
"This is the room where you will be in for the next one and a half month. The studio is just down to the rightbcorridor at the dead end on this floor, you won't be able to miss it. You will have free time to practice or rest for this afternoon, dinner will be send into your room for today, you will have an official schedule tomorrow. You can go any where on this floor and the garden in a radical distance of 500 m but no further from that, and be ready at 7am tomorrow, you got that?"
Andrea nods at the information Mr. Savi just informed him, and the butler said goodnight then turns and disappears around the corner. Andrea turns on the light and locks his bedroom's door. Took a deep breath, Andrea gets out his phone and begins to dial the numbers he knows by heart, he has an important call to make.
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