Illicit Attraction

I shut my eyes and silently press my lips together to vent out my frustration after I tap the wrong keyboard of the piano. "You've been practicing for three hours straight, Adalira. There's nothing wrong with taking a break. Our recital in Possilico Arena is still month away from now." Uiji reminded me like I forgot about it. I opened my eyes and drive my body to her direction. "That's the reason why I'm like this. Our grand piano recital is one month away. Don't you feel anxious?" I asked her with my eyebrow raising level by level until it reach the highest point it could rest at. Uiji's cheeks blush profusely. She's flustered. She's having that kind of natural pinkish glow in her cheeks whenever Pharrel Quentin crosses on her mind. A realization came to me. The reason why she's fussing and work up with the gown that she'll wear on our grand recital is because Pharrel will surely be there. She's aiming to become the apple of his eyes since he'll be there too, after all he is a Possilico. Their family is the event's special guest. "Actually..." She trail off. Before she could start her story telling about his 21st century prince charming but is a douchebag in my own eyes and observation. I raise my hand near my lips and zip it so she'll shut her mouth. Uiji rolls her eyes while I redeemed my proper posture and starts playing Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 from the top. I am close to perfecting my performance when a vivid picture of a familiar man from my past pops up in my head. Head down, his jaw-length hair almost covering his chiseled face and those sharp line while he expertly plays the same chords. My finger froze. I unconsciously stop from playing the piano to clutch on my chest, trying to ease some invisible weights in my chest. "Adalira?" Uiji murmur my name in a questionning manner. She managed to caught my attention. I flashes a small smile that intends to reassure her that I'm fine. There's nothing to be worry about. I wanted to continue practicing for my piece but my mind and fingers refuse to. Instead, I find myself moving away from the grand piano and picking up my bag. My head is full of air when I sauntered out of the studio without saying anything to Uiji. I told my driver to pick me before six in the afternoon but it's only a quarter after four that's why it's no longer a surprise that I can't see our car in its usual space in the parking basement. He's probably out running errands for our household. I hope he's within the vicinity. Several rings and my driver's voice took over. "I'm on my way," he said like he already know that I'm dying to go home. "Thank you. Keep safe!" I reminded him. "Ten more minutes. I'll be there, Ms. Adalira." He assured. The phone call ended. I put down my hand and patiently waits for the white Nissan Terra to arrive in front of this three-storey studio and I can't believe I'm doing this. Waiting is what I hate the most. It traumatize me. "GIVE me an hour. I'll go straight in your favorite milktea shop once I'm done with this matter." Damon, the resident bad boy of Merthel Academy instructed me upon picking up his phone after several rings. I pouted my lips. "One hour?" Damon chuckled. "One hour, baby. This needs to be settled," he added. His sweet-talking plus the depth of the tone he used works like magic. It does, every single time. "Where's the evil but drop-dead prince of yours?" Atasha, Damon's younger sister that's about my age and a first year college student with the same course as mine asked. "You going somewhere?" "I know where this conversation is going and what will happen..." she said. I smiled at her like a big ball of happines as I forcefully link my hands on her arms. "No-uh," she said firmly, even shaking her head. "No. No. No. This will end up like all the damn time you told me to keep you a company until my brother arrive and in the end you two will left me all alone." I bite my lower lip and couldn't look straight in her eyes. She's right. It happens all the time. "I'll get it." Atasha announced after the buzzer made its noises, an indication that our order is ready to in the coffee shop's counter. I couldn't help but smile victoriously as I watch her walk. One thing that Atasha and Damon have in common. They have their soft spot for me and I know too well how to use them in my own benefit. "Call him again. There's no way he'll be three hours late." Atasha is lowkey panicking. It's almost eight in the evening and the last time we get to reach and contact Damon's phone is three hours ago, when he instructed me to wait for him in this milktea shop. I shake my head. "Still the same... cannot be reach," I answered. Seconds after the silence stretch between the two of us. Her phone rang. She quickly grasp on it. "Who's that? Is that him?" I mouthed but Atasha is troubled, as if she just lost her senses. When she drop her phone and started crying, I panic. I bombarded her with different question but it seems like she can't understand anything until she look up to me and reach for my hand with hers quivering. "Adalira l-let's go. We need to see and confirm it to them that it's not him." I withdraw my hand from her hand and harshly stood up. "What are you talking about? Who's not who?" "The caller earlier. It's the Starlington city's police. They said Damon met an accident and he's dead." At that moment, my world fall apart. No matter how hard I wait for my boyfriend to be in that milktea shop on the cold night of December nine. He can't make it. He won't come because he's already dead.