Magali sat in the school's auditorium in a sort of feverish daze. The fever had struck her suddenly on her way back from the library. The feeling of the high walls enclosing on her is what gave her the urgent need to find somewhere to sit or else she'd simply fall over. Only when the low sniffles left her mouth did Magali realize that she was crying, warm tears running down her swollen cheeks.

"You know..." A voice spoke.

Looking up, Magali didn't find anyone with her, just a sea of empty chairs as she sat overlooking the first row.

"...there are better places to do that." A shadow emerged on the stage in front of her. A boy with dark hair and a grim expression on his face stepped into the light.

"Do what?" Magali said, quick to wipe her tears.

"Cry."

"I wasn't crying." Embarrassed, Magali turned her head, further wiping any fallen tears that were about to ruin her eye make up.

"No? What were you doing then?" The boy approaches the edge of the stage, eventually taking the leap towards the floor. A loud thud echoed throughout the auditorium.

Magali tilted her head as the boy stood towering over her, observing her with his arms folded across his chest.

"What do you call the salty liquid flooding your eye sockets?"

Her glossy eyes shimmered underneath the spotlight. "What's it to you?" Magali looked to her hands in her lap, they rested upon a book.

"Was the story that good?"

"Erm...I dunno?" She stuttered. Magali had brought the book with her from the library, the same book that had left her feeling slightly lightheaded and feverish.

The boy took the liberty of unfolding the seat next to her as she handed him the book. He only managed to read its front cover before a deep frown curled his thick brows.

"What?"

"It's the school's history book." He said, handing her back the heavy item.

"I know. I...It's..."

"What's your name?"

A rush of blood traveled through her veins as the boy shifted in his seat to face her.

"M...Magali." She stuttured. "Magali Etienne."

Magali contemplated stretching out a hand for the boy to shake but hesitated. Something about him frightened her. He had a dark glimpse in his eyes, a searching look that didn't let her out of site.

"You're new here aren't you?"

"Is it that obvious?" She sighed.

"I found you sitting alone and crying. It's quite obvious."

"I wasn't crying." Magali frowned.

Traces of a smile brushed past his face. "Your sniffles were heard all the way backstage."

"Fine, I was crying. Happy now?"

The boy reached for something in his pocket, a napkin. Magali accepted it to wipe her eye make up.

"Shit." She cursed.

"What?"

"My mascara is running." She said, folding the black stained napkin.

"Perhaps you should stop reading such sad stories then."

"I wasn't crying because of what I read in the book, I was crying because of this stupid school."

"Feeling homesick are we?"

"Not really." Magali shook her head, but the thought of her struggles with the language, with her classes...with Charles, made her lower her head. "Maybe a little." She muttered.

"I see."

Silence fell. Magali regarded the school's auditorium. It was built like a colosseum, perhaps it could fit as many people as the one in Rome? Magali's father had taken her there during the summer break, just before the beginning of the semester. They had wandered the streets of Rome, enjoying the sites, when the magnificent monument rose before them. They stood there for hours, cranking their necks, admiring the irreplaceable architecture. It had by far been the best day in her new country, that and the train ride to her new school.

"Do you know a guy named Charles Leclerc?" Magali asked, startling the boy with the question.

"No." He regarded her passively.

"Oh."

A pause.

"Who's he to you?"

"Just some guy I met on the train here, a friend."

"Charles is your friend?" His eyes widened in surprise, softening his carved face.

"So you do know of him?"

"Everybody knows Charles." He muttered.

Magali nodded. "Because he is a crimson cadet?"

The boy shrugged. "He made council this year."

"How is one made council? There is a ceremony for that, right?"

The boy's gaze shifted back to the book in her lap.

"It doesn't say anything about it in here.'' Magali said, noticing his wandering eyes. She had already read the school's entire history book through and through, it's how she spent her first month at SDC. There was no mention of a ceremony nor on how the gentlemen at this school, the crimson cadets, were elected to their positions. Charles had mentioned another book that night in the library, however, Magali had forgotten its name.

"I should probably go." She said, finding the way that the boy was looking at her a bit intimidating. He remained seated as she rose from her seat.

"Thank you for the napkin." She said, waving it in her pinched hand. "I forgot to ask your ..."

"Mr Loirs!" The door to the entrance swung open and a man, plump and short, walked in with a stack of fliers in his grip.

"I must apologize for the delay, there was trouble with the printer. I take it that you've already warmed up on the p..." He stopped at the sight of Magali.

"Hello." He smiled, a friendly smile. "A friend of yours, Anthoine?"

"No." The boy said and rose from his seat. "She was just about to leave."

Magali stared at him blankly. He pushed past her on his way to the stage. "Your name is Anthoine?" She said, however he didn't acknowledge her further, eventually disappearing behind the curtains.

Behind her the man, old, perhaps in his late fifties, cleared his throat. "You must excuse Mr Loirs. He doesn't like our piano lessons to start late."

"Piano?" Magali frowned, looking at the empty stage.

Somewhere behind the curtains there was an emerging sound of something big being wheeled onto the stage.

"You play the piano?" Magali asked, turning back to the old man.

"Teach." He giggled. "I'm a teacher."

But he was so short, so goofy looking, so round. It couldn't possibly be.... "Signor Casquette?" She said, hoping to be mistaken.

"You've heard of me?" The man wayed on his heels to match her height. Magali was almost a head taller.

"Yes..." She said unsure. Nevertheless this was him, this was the infamous music teacher who qualified to play piano at the national orchestra of Russia. "I've heard great things about you Monsieur Casquette." Despite her previous hesitations, Magali vigorously shook his hand.

"Magnifique!" He laughed. "Another great addition to the school. What instruments might you play, Miss..."

"Etienne, Magali Etienne."

"Magali Etienne." He said with awe. "Très bien."

She was happy to switch to French, her conversation with the boy, Anthoine, had been in fluent italien, Anthoine being fluent and Magali being anxious about her tight grammer.

"I don't play any instruments but I've heard some of your pieces."

"Vraiment? C'est fantastique!" He said, clasping Magali's hand in his.

Wait until she'd tell Charles about it, Magali thought. He had urged her to seek him up once she had discovered the one and only Signor Casquette. If you looked past the old age and lack of hair and height, a brilliant man could be found.

"Today is your lucky day Miss Etinne." With her hand in his he led her up the stage. " I have been working on a original piece composed by my most talented student, Anthione Loirs,"

Anthoine sat ready by the piano, his posture defined and his hands in position on the claviatures.

"Anthoine has made more progress in five years than I ever did in twenty." They approached the piano where freshly printed sheet music was set for Anthoine to behold. "Play something, son. For Miss Etienne."

Heat rose to her cheeks. "It's okay monsieur, I don't want to..."

Magali was quickly silenced by the gentle notes from the piano. The music seemed to invade the entire auditorium, bouncing off the walls like giant echoes.

Signor Casquette swept his head to the sound of the music, whilst Magali couldn't take her eyes of Anthoine's hands that seemed to float along the white and black piano keys.

"Wonderful, bellissimo!"

Anthoine was given a round of applause. He looked slightly breathless from playing. It never occurred to Magali that someone could be exhausted from the simple act of pressing down piano keys, however, Anthoine had played on another level. He was clearly gifted.

"It's not finished." He sighed. "Something is still missing."

"Okay, son, not to worry." Signor Casquette made haste towards the piano and went through the stacks of sheet music, desperately searching for errors in his notes. To Magali, the piece had been faultless.

"We need to go over it again, without distraction this time." Anthoine shot an eye towards Magali who stood remotely by the piano. His eyes were dark, a trace of adrenaline in his narrow gaze.

"I'll leave you to it." She nodded.

"Oui, Mademoiselle Etienne..." Signor Casquette looked up from his papers. "I have my office hours dans l'après midi."

"A bientot." She waved, ignoring the piercing gaze that was Anthoine's. It followed her until she dispersed through the doors.