"Hey!" Aimee waves at Josie and Tessa that appear on her screen. "How are two of my favourite humans doing?"

"We are doing great!" Tessa says, while sporting dark shades and a light tan.

"I can see you have been spending time under the Bay sun," Aimee says amusedly.

"Well, I've got to keep up with you. Look how tanned you look! The Indian sun is doing wonders for your complexion, my friend!"

Aimee chuckles at the remark.

Josie glares at her cousin and interjects the animated conversation. "When are you coming back home?"

This is now the frequent question posed to Aimee over any conversation as she marks her sixth month in Goa.

Aimee rolls her eyes at the question. "Josie, please not you either..."

"What? I'm just asking..." she plays dumb. "How's Scott?"

"He's fine. Busy with work here. We're always busy with something or the other."

"But you're the one lying on the beach there... without the boyfriend."

"I came here to swim... Josie..." she warns her cousin.

"Fine, fine!" She waves her hands in surrender. "I won't say a word!"

A notification pops onto Aimee's phone and she reads the subject line and frowns.

"What happened?" Tessa asks.

"I just got an email from the Royal Opera House in London." She slides the notification open. "Give me one minute." She taps her phone and opens the email. Aimee reads the email twice and her eyes widen in shock.

"What happened?" Tessa repeats the question.

"Is something wrong?" Josie asks concerned.

Aimee shakes her head. "It's an invitation. To an audition." Aimee continues to read further. "They received my audition tape? What audition tape?"

"Who cares! They are asking you to audition with them," Josie squeals. "When is it?"

"In two weeks' time..."

"That's not a long time to go. You may need to leave in the next few days." Tessa says.

Aimee's face falters. "I haven't played in six months and I haven't performed in a year. There's no way I'm going to get it."

Josie's face contorts. "Wait, are you saying what I think you're saying?" she says aggrievedly.

"I will not be good enough..." Aimee mutters. "Besides, Scott needs me here."

"Fuck Scott! This is your life! You can't keep running away!" Josie shouts, irate.

Aimee's face falters at the anger in her cousin's voice. She had been the only one that never judged her until now.

"Seriously Josie? Are you also giving me the same shit? Since when have you turned into Callum?" Aimee's eyes water at her cousin's harsh words.

"Since you've become a stubborn jerk," Josie gets up and walks away stomping furiously.

Aimee opens her mouth in dismay at her words. "What the fuck! Seriously Tess? What is wrong with her?" she angrily wipes tears that run down her face. "That's what I get from you two now?"

Tessa sighs. "She's worried about you. We all are."

Aimee shakes her head. "I'm fine"

"We've always been greatest of friends because we always said as it is to one another, right?"

Aimee nods, still fuming at Josie's words.

"So, please, for our friendship's sake, listen to me... you can't throw your life away because of your past. And you can't keep making excuses. India, the orphanage... that's all an excuse. You're right, you might not get the gig. You are out of practice but Aimes... you have the talent and you can practise and if you don't get this one, then you'll get the next one."

"I can't play anymore..." she says in a whisper.

"That's so much bullshit. You used to have this fire within you... you need to get it back. This is an opportunity that you owe it to yourself to try... it's not for Callum, your dad or Josie. This is about you. Just think about it."

Aimee's eyes tear up, and she looks away.

"I will always be there for you, whatever you decide, but just make sure when you decide you do it because it's your own volition and not because you're still hiding from the ghosts in your imagination."

Aimee wipes her tears.

"I got to check on Josie, but all she said was out of love."

"Yeah, I need to go too. Speak soon." Aimee says and shuts the call. She stares at the screen and the email on it.

The return to the villa that she shares with Scott is painfully slow. Her mind races and she keeps re-opening the email and re-reading the invitation. She closes the phone and focuses her mind on the walk home. She forces her brain to remember every moment with Scott, every laugh, every kiss, every shared moment... but her hands only recall the feeling of the keyboard, her ears listen to the crescendo of the piano, and her eyes glimpse the notes on the composition sheet.

She stops walking. Her brain is alight with music for the first time in a long time. She hasn't had music playing in her head since she left Australia. She lightly taps her leg with her hands. Her heart races and she knows she needs to release the music somehow. Her feet go from pacing to running as she speeds through the dirt path, across the paddy rice fields that surround her, to reach home.

She throws the door wide, leaving it ajar, and bolts to the table to grab a piece of paper and a pencil. She utilises the ruled paper as the guiding lines for her notes. Her brain haemorrhages every note at the speed of light as she scribbles furiously.

"Love is that you?" Scott exits the shower and observes his girlfriend jotting down furiously down onto the piece of paper while hunched over the coffee table. "Aimee?" he repeats, but she is in a frenzied state, oblivious to his presence. Scott approaches her and gently places his hand over her shoulder. "Aimee?" he calls her again.

Aimee lifts her eyes to him alight with his touch. She gets up and kisses him passionately, which he returns.

"Morning to you too." He smiles at her kiss. "What are you doing?"

Aimee picks up the paper and looks at the messy handwritten musical notation. "I needed to get it out. It was just playing in my head."

"You write music?"

Aimee glances at him in surprise and realises she has never told him. "Yes, I compose." She glances at the paper. "I think I've finished it."

"Finished what?" he asks.

"My composition," she exhales. "I've finished it. I've finished my song. For years I've been struggling with this composition, but it was staring right in front of me." She smiles. "I need to get to a piano. Where can we find a piano?"

"I guess I can ask around." He places a kiss on her cheek. "Now, get ready or we'll be late."

Scott enters their bedroom, but Aimee stands still. She looks at her phone on the coffee table. "I can't."

"What can't you do?" Scott peaks from the bedroom.

"I need to talk to you."

Scott leaves the room with his t-shirt in his hands. "What's happening?"

Aimee takes her phone and opens her email. "I've received this." She gives it to him.

Scott reads it and lifts his eyes to her.

"I'm going to audition for it." She picks up her composition. "With my song."

"Wow..." he hands her the phone back and puts on his t-shirt. "So, you're going to London for the audition?"

Aimee nods.

"That's..." he frowns. "unexpected I guess."

"Come with me." She blurts out.

"To London for the audition?"

"To London for good."

Scott's eyes open wide. "For good? Wait a minute, you were going to London for the audition. Now you're saying you're going back for good?"

"This trip has always meant to be temporary and we've been here longer than we're supposed to... this is a once in a lifetime opportunity." Aimee pleads and holds Scott's hands softly.

"Then go, do the audition, play and come back to me."

Aimee's face falters. She looks down.

"You like it here, right?"

"Of course I do, but if I get this, it will be a long time until I can come back here..."

"How long?" His face is impassively staring back at her.

"A season can go from 3 months to a year or longer."

Scott paces around the room.

"Come with me. We have seen India. Let's go back home."

"This is my home." He says sternly. "I'm not going back to England." Scott approaches her. "Stay here with me. I'll build you a fucking piano if that is what you want, but stay back with me."

Aimee shakes her head. "You don't understand. You were the one that told me I should follow what I want. This is what I want."

Scott looks back at her and rubs his hands over his mid-length hair. "It's not what I want, Aimee."

Aimee's face falters. She never realised that Scott's intention was to stay permanently in India.

"It's not my home..."

"And, home is in London?"

Aimee ponders his question. "I don't know..."

"But, you know it's not here," he says it for her. "And, it's not with me..."

Aimee's eyes water. "I didn't say that..."

Scott scoffs. "We both know your heart was never truly with me..." They stand still, observing each other in a staring contest. "When are you leaving?" Scott asks unexpectedly.

His question throws her off. "I have booked nothing yet..."

"Well, if you're going, go as quickly as possible." He says coldly. "No need to prolong this further."

Aimee eyes open wide, "Scott...you can't possibly be serious..." She takes two steps towards him. "Is this how you want to leave things with us?"

Scott caresses her face. "There's no us, sweetheart. I won't stand in the way of your dreams. But, I can't give up what I want either for you. I'm not that kind of guy."

Scott picks up his things from the table. "I'll let the guys know you won't be coming in. I'll stay with James and Liz." He lifts his eyes to Aimee. "Kick some ass." He turns around and leaves the house.

Three days later and Aimee is on a plane back to England with her path full of dreams but with a broken heart.

Aimee feels the winter chill on her face that morning for the first time in a long time. One year in warm climates was taking a toll on her skin that tingles with the brisk wind. She slowly makes her way to Covent Garden, her heart beating fast at the thought of the audition. Throughout the walk from Holborn to Covent Garden, her brain keeps second guessing her decision to leave Scott's comforting embrace for the wintry loneliness of London. However, the sight of the white building dismisses all her newfound fears.

There are at least another twenty people in the large auditorium with a velvet red interior. Aimee takes a seat and awaits for her turn to play for the next three hours. A string of pianists play a melody of their own choosing. Most of them decide to play the classics. From Chopin to Debussy, the auditorium is filled with music.

"Aimee Adams."

The sound of her own name awakens her from her slumber and slowly she gets up and makes her way to the stage. At its centre is a Steinway grand piano. Aimee's sight of the piano takes her back to the Forsythe's and to him. Her heart flutters at the thought of Liam.

She sits at the piano and takes her composition, a mesh of papers, that awards her with a chuckle from some people in the audience. Her hands shake and she takes a deep breath.

"Whenever you are ready, Miss Adams," the same voice announces.

Aimee pulls her hair into a messy bun and exhales softly. She smiles when she thinks of all the times Justin would look at her playing a new composition. In her mind, she grants this melody to him.

Her hands are steady, and she plays each note confidently. On the stage, there's no one else but her, and her song. Her fingers grace masterfully at each note with perfect skill. She plays incessantly for the next five minutes. She's not auditioning, she's playing her own melody. As she draws the last note, she breathes once again.

"Thank you," she hears from the audience.

Aimee grazes the piano softly as a lover grazes the lips of the one they love and gets up.

Aimee walks down the stage. The director assistant approaches her. "Is this your contact information?" she asks, while showing Aimee the sheet she completed when she arrived.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Thanks." She walks back to the director that looks at her and gives her a subtle nod.

Aimee unties her hair and grabs her backpack from the ground where she left it. She unzips it and shoves her untidy composition in her backpack.

She walks towards the door to leave the building, but a tall, young man in a suit intercedes her.

"You impressed him," he says.

"I did?" she frowns at the remark.

"She asked you to confirm your details, correct?"

Aimee nods.

"They are going to call you back. They only do that to those he really likes, and you are the first today. That's pretty impressive." He extends his right hand. "Michael Evans."

Aimee returns the handshake. "Aimee Adams."

He takes a card from his pocket. "Are you represented, Aimee?"

"Represented?"

"I guess that means you're not." He hands her the card. "Let's have a chat soon. Call me tomorrow so I can talk to you about how I can help you with your career. You're very talented. One of the most gifted I've seen."

Aimee takes the card. "Hm... I don't know."

"Just give me a chance to speak to you and your family. This is not something you should decide alone. Call me so I can treat you and your family to lunch and we'll take it from there."

"Okay... I guess."

Michael places a gentleman's kiss on the back of her hand. "It was a pleasure to have seen you perform today."

Aimee blushes and nods before making her way to the entrance.

Michael observes her leaving the opera house and walks back to where he was initially sitting. Liam emerges from the shadows of the theatre and sits next to him.

"So?" he asks.

"You're right. She's a marvel to listen to. One of the best I've heard in a long time. You say she hasn't played in a while?"

Liam nods in response.

"Well, if that is her rusty, imagine when she's actually in form."

"So, you're going to represent her?"

"If she'll allow me, absolutely."

Liam looks down and frowns. "Play fair with her. No hidden clauses. In fact, I want to see all your contracts before she signs them."

"We're friends. I will not screw you or her over. I promise." Michael says and pats Liam's unsteady leg.

"I'll cover her fees until she secures something steady."

"All the fees?" Michael raises his eyebrow at his friend. "That can get expensive."

"Just send me whatever bills need to be paid."

"Whatever you say..." Michael relaxes and hears another pianist finishing his composition.

"She's going to get this gig, right?"

"He liked her. She'll get it. And, if I represent her, she will continue to get work. I have all the right contacts. But you know that or you wouldn't have sent me that shitty recording of her playing."

"It was all I had... It was a small recording that my niece recorded a few months back."

"Well, let me just say I had to pull some serious strings for this audition to happen with only that going for me. But, no matter, worked out in the end."

Liam gets up from his seat and buttons up his suit jacket. "This is between us. She can't find out I'm helping her, got it?"

Michael gets up and also buttons up his suit jacket. "What's your deal with this girl?"

"No deal. Just promise me." Liam says.

Michael nods. "I got you, brother."

"Another thing..." Liam sighs. "I want to get a ticket for her opening nights."

"Do you mean here or in Sydney?" Michael enquires.

Liam looks at the stage. His heart leaps after seeing her. "Wherever it is. Just get me a ticket for all her opening nights."