She gasped and placed her hand on her chest. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”
“Feel free to quote me in your article then.” I walked away and headed straight for the gallery. I wanted to get this solo performance over with.
I took a seat in front of my cello and began tuning it.
“Oh, wait. Wait, wait.” My father stepped in front of me. Then he clinked his champagne glass.
He waited for the conversations to become soft whispers, then silence. “Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention, please? As you know, our oldest daughter is an accomplished cellist who has been wowing crowds around the country since she was nine years old.”
A loud applause filled the room.
“What you may not know,” he continued, “is that tonight is also the wedding anniversary for me and Mrs. Kensington, and to celebrate, we’ve asked Kate to perform one of our favorite songs. Take it away, Kate.”
I took a deep breath and played the first note of A Thousand Years, then I smiled and dragged my bow against the strings—playing an “EEEEEEK!” screech that damn near shattered the windows.
Time to fuck the rest of it up…
I plucked the strings like a toddler, tapping the wood belly whenever they didn’t sound loudly enough. I played the alphabet song in reverse—taking my time and drawing out each bad note. When I struck the last note—a harsh D that I held for several seconds too long, I heard a glass shatter onto the floor.
I moved my bow to resting position and smiled as I looked around the room.
No one said a word. They sipped their wine and looked away from me. A few whispers started in the back, and then a few people clapped, but it didn’t last long.
I stood to my feet and took a bow. “Thank you all very much. It was an absolute pleasure playing for you this evening.”
Silence.
I shrugged and left the room, making my way into the library. Before I could text James and beg him to come and get me, my mother stormed into the room and slammed the door shut.
Teary-eyed, she glared at me from across the room. “How the hell could you embarrass me like that, Kate?” Her voice was hoarse. “In front of all those people? All my friends…”
She moved toward me and I stepped back until I was pressed against a bookshelf, until she was right in front of me.
“I just—” She wiped her eyes. “I didn’t raise you to be a cunt, and I don’t know who or what has gotten into you, but within the next hour, you’re going to go back out there and apologize to everyone. Then you’re going to make me forget all about the utter disappointment you’ve become and play for us like you’re sitting center stage at Carnegie Hall.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Because you have thirteen million reasons why you’ll never pull this shit again. If you want to give up your musical career and to be average and focus on graduate school, be my guest, but you’re not going to do it tonight.”
I said nothing. I could only glare at her.
“This is by far, one of the worst things you’ve ever done to me,” she said. “It’s going to take at least two years for me to forgive you for this.” She stepped back and walked to the door. “I look forward to hearing your corrected performance.” She left the room.
I slumped into a chair and tried to decide if leaving right now would be worth it. If I could pack up everything and make it on my own. As I was weighing the pros and cons of jumping out of the window, the door opened and a suited guy in a grey mask walked inside.
“The estate library isn’t open to guests right now,” I said. “You can’t be in here.”
He smiled, and I immediately realized it was James.
He lifted the mask over his head, revealing his face. “Do you really want me to leave?”
“Not at all.” I stood up and walked over to him, accepting a long kiss from his lips. “I thought you said you weren’t coming to the party.”
“I wasn’t.” He cupped my face in his hands. “Until I got your text message about being miserable.”
“Well, I fucked everything up and I doubt I’ll be able to get out of here unnoticed, so you can drive back home if you want.”
“It’s a little too late for that.” He ran his fingers through my hair. “What have I missed?”
“I messed up my solo.”
“I heard it.” He smiled. “It’s what these people deserve, though. These people aren’t your friends, Kate. You’re choosing to let them run you.”
A loud knock came to the door before I could respond to that.