It did go down the same shithole, and things did turn out to be as fucked as I had hoped they wouldn't get. Because, obviously.

After class ended, I didn't think twice before walking to the music department, hoping that I'd catch Soren before he left for his next class. Nico, on the other hand, was mostly out of his early morning hangover state by then since he tagged along quite nicely. Though he wasn't nice enough to not grump all the way.

"So Mister Fuckboy plays guitar," he said. "How much more of a prissy, perfect of a golden ass can he be?"

"Piano." I corrected him. "He plays the piano."

"Whatever. Piano, guitar, music's the same. That's not the point."

I bristled a little and had this sudden urge to correct him--one that I overcame by laughing softly as if I agreed with him. I didn't.

"The point is." He continued, waving his hand in the air. "How can anyone stand him? Clearly, the dude is a fake. You think his hair really is that perfect shade of golden blonde? No. That fucker dyes it. You think he's got enough grades to hold that scholarship he so proudly goes around throwing in everyone's faces? No, he doesn't! He cheats."

"He does?" I glanced at Nico in surprise.

"Of course, he does!" He looked offended as if I should've already known. "How the hell do you not know that?"

I grimaced.

"I was there with him in high school, Rhodes, and you don't understand how he used to fuck everything and anything within reach of him." He shuddered. "Goodness gracious, what do you even see in him?"

I shrugged uneasily. "It might come as a surprise to you but he's been there for me."

"The sex, you mean."

"Not the sex, I mean." I nudged him softly which Nico responded with a somewhat perplexed look. "He's a nice friend to have. A nice...boyfriend. Really."

Soren and I didn't have as perfect of a relationship as most of the couples I got to see around me, but I only just blamed it on the fact that we'd only started dating a week ago--which was the longest any of my relationships had ever gone. Soren understood me and even though he didn't like spending a lot of our time together, he was still mostly there for me.

Clearly, I didn't see the problem. Until that one text he'd sent me.

Nico passed me a dark-eyed, dubious look and I was glad, beyond glad, when I spotted the familiar translucent doors of the classroom where groups of music majors were usually found on early Mondays.

A tiny sliver of silence and then a jolt inside my chest when I neared the doors and heard. Everything and anything that came from those sturdy bows moving softly over the violin strings. I saw, even from afar, the few kids nodding along to their professor, bows in their hands, and burgundy cases near their feet. Grace and skill, a voice in my head said.

"Would you look at that," Nico remarked.

I blinked and broke out of the trance I always got into whenever I came near these two doors, my eyes darting to him as my cheeks flamed. But Nico wasn't even looking at me. Instead, his gaze was at Nancy--the one and only, who had also been the crazy host of the party we went to last night. The same party where Nico and I had gotten shit-drunk.

"How does she not look even a little bit hungover?" I looked at her in awe, my eyes instinctively following her movements as she strummed the chords of her acoustic Fender.

"Fucking menace," Nico grumbled. "I know for a fact she gave me one of those vodka shots when all I'd ask for was a Coke."

I choked on a sudden laugh when Nico turned his glare on me. "Sorry."

His glare mellowed a bit and he shouldered his bag, sighing and dragging a hand through obsidian-black locks of his hair. "Whatever. I'm out of here. This much jolly happiness is bound to make me puke."

"Aw, but you haven't yet listened to their piece for Christmas!"

"Like I said." He took a tiny step back. "I'd rather bleed dry than do such a horrendous thing."

I pouted and faced him. "Where're you headed?"

He frowned as if he couldn't understand why I was asking. "The library."

"You adorable nerd." That resulted in him punching me in the arm and I yelped out loud. "Ow! No violence in the hallways!"

"Fine." He glared. "I'll fucking punch you when I see you outside the dorms the next time."

"I'm sorry!" I yelled in between the laugh that escaped me as I watched him stomp away. I knew I probably shouldn't piss him off too much, but I couldn't really help it. How was I to not tease him when we'd drunk our asses off--together--just last night?

Nicholas Hastings was someone people usually steered away from in the hallways. A somewhat prodigy, Brooke had informed me, with all that scary-rich reputation of his parents. Sometimes I thought Nico hated it all, his parents' name especially since he spent more than half of his days in the campus library--alone and away from any prying eyes.

I'd like to say he was warming up to me, but that must be wrong.

It was only when someone bumped into my shoulder that I realized the class had ended and everyone was filing out from the now-opened doors. I perked up and walked ahead, murmuring soft apologies as I looked around for Soren.

The class had entirely emptied by the time I found him standing by the only grand piano that I'd learned one of the elderly in the community had donated to the university. He was typing something on his phone, soft blond strands hanging over his forehead as he frowned.

Soren didn't ever frown. Except that he was doing just that right now. My heart skipped an irrational, timid beat.

"Hey," I spoke.

His head snapped up and his eyes met mine--clear and the palest of blues.

"Alice." The frown left his face only to return tenfold. "What are you doing here?"

I blinked, my fingers tightening on the edges of the textbook I was holding. "You said we needed to talk?"

He shook his head and then he was grabbing his bag from beside the piano bench, gathering the loose sheets together and stuffing them inside. "Actually, I'm a little busy right now. I've gotta meet someone... How about we meet somewhere later?"

"Oh." I took a tiny step back when I realized I was in his way. "Yeah. Okay."

Wait. Not okay!

He slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped towards me, softly squeezing my arm. "Sorry, but I--"

"I just need a few seconds really." I cut him off, stiffening and then relaxing as quickly under his touch. "Is this about Friday night? I fell asleep during the movie, is that it? Because I swear, I didn't mean to." I'd just had very little sleep the previous night when I'd been too busy getting drunk after that phone call with my mother.

Soren was still frowning, I realized a bit belatedly and that was wrong. Something was really wrong because Soren smiled at everyone. He didn't like frowning as much as he was doing right now.

"You promised you'd come to the dinner my mom's putting up this weekend." My voice lowered to an almost pleading, pathetic whisper as my fingers fiddled with the sleeve around my left wrist. "I'm really sorry if I messed things up."

A slow beat of silence passed by.

He shouldered his bag again and his eyes darted away from me. It was a bit scary because what did that mean? "I've gotta go, Alice," he said.

I parted my lips to say something (plead for him to stick along till Saturday night at least?) only to watch him sidestep me and head for the doors, walking out and turning around the corner, disappearing from my view.

My heart raced and I couldn't quite tell what that meant. What this meant. Soren had walked away after texting me that he wanted to talk.

"I know this," I whispered softly under my breath. "Happens every time." Familiarity should be relieving, shouldn't it be?

So maybe I had messed things up somewhere along the way. Soren wasn't telling me because he was too nice for it. Maybe I'd turned out to be too much for him in just one week. Or maybe I could just convince him to give me another chance?

I exhaled softly and turned around from the lone piano in front of me, ready to head out as well when my eyes darted to one of the small violins resting on an empty bench, its bow nowhere in sight.

Did someone forget it here? I wondered. What a shame.

I drifted towards it without even realizing. At least not until I reached out and my fingertips brushed against its surface. A little warm, as if overworked, but it was hard and brittle and grounding.

A grounding weight.

Swallowing anxiously, I pulled my hand away and stuffed it in my pocket. And I was somewhere so far in my head that I didn't notice the presence behind me until I heard them speak.

"Here for the tryouts?"

I turned around so fast that I nearly had a whiplash, eyes going wide when I recognized the professor with the tousled hair and happy brown eyes. It was Professor McAdams. Though he preferred to be called Marty by his students--his music students.

"No. Sorry." I blurted out, shaking my head. "I...I was just looking for a friend."

He raised his brows, though nothing about it was judgemental. I still held myself as stiffly as I could. Then he smiled. "That's all right. Have you ever played one?"

"Played what?"

"A violin." He elaborated patiently.

I shook my head and offered him a small smile back. Stupidstupidstupid, my head chanted at me. "No. I'm sorry, I really wasn't trying to touch your...um, the things that belong here. I don't really have an interest in music."

He nodded, waiting, and I didn't understand why he was waiting.

"I'm a Psychology student. I don't..." I shook my head again.

Mr. McAdams nodded kindly as if he didn't think of me as odd. "I see. Well, you can come here whenever. Music class, as I like to tell everyone, is open for everyone. You don't have to be someone with a love for music or art to be here."

I watched as he stepped nonchalantly towards one of the benches and started collecting a few of the flutes.

"I've frankly seen one law student and one medical student showing up once in a while as well." He added with a gentle quirk of his lips, as if sharing a funny secret. It almost made the tension dissipate from my shoulders. Almost.

I nodded and smiled politely. "That's nice, but I should really get going."

"You can visit again. I do need a few volunteers for the big music event anyway. Might be a help."

I nodded again stupidly and turned around, walking out of the classroom. And I kept walking and walking with my head hung low until I was out of the hallway and out of the whole entire department building.

Until I was outside and I could breathe.