Chapter 1

5 days ago. 

The orchestra filled the magnificent concert hall, the melancholic strings and haunting melodies of Chopin's concerto melding with the hall's ancient grandeur. They were all trailing after the pianist in the center as she led them all in a melancholic dance, her fingers dancing across the keys guiding them in a graceful, synchronized embrace. It was like there was some kind of enchantment in their air as she captivated the audience by her performance. 

"Are you coming to the wedding?" Rafe whispered to him, although he noted that his best friend's eyes never wavered away from the stage, away from the pianist lost in her music. 

"Yes, you?" he replied. 

"I don't know yet," he said, "it depends if she's going. It'd be weird otherwise, given our circumstances."

Charlie watched Rafe watching Lila Evadne with rapt attention as if he was committing every inch of her performance into his memory. He had always been like that to her ever since Charlie could remember, always secretly pining and yearning for the very woman playing the piano. He didn't know why his friend had never tried to make a move on her or at the very least, confessed his feelings to her. He seemed content to keep it buried all these years, especially when she ended up dating the groom during their summer break. 

He was mesmerized by how completely lost she was in her music to the point he didn't think she would even notice if the orchestra had stopped playing. It was like she was wielding magic seeing her so absorbed in Chopin's melancholic melodies, and he was her willing victim. He had never seen anything like it, the way her skin illuminated under the stage lights, her body swaying beautifully with her music wrapped in a lavender dress, making her look every inch the goddess that she is. He couldn't bring himself to tear her eyes away from her. 

Charlie knew his best friend had always had this strange obsession with Lila Evadne ever since their high school days. He had always been naturally drawn to her presence in a way Charlie can never understand. She just simply had this inexplicable hold on him, like magic or hypnosis, because wherever she was, he would be trailing after her. Rafe never acted on his feelings though, always determined to keep things friendly between them and Charlie can't seem to understand why. 

One summer when Rafe found out that Lila had ended up dating his nemesis, the aforementioned groom, he suddenly became withdrawn. It was like whatever light he had seen within his best friend had dimmed. Although he remained the same close friend and confidante to her, never showing how much it had wounded him to hear her gushing about the beginnings of her relationship. Charlie didn't get why his best friend would gladly subject himself to such torture over these years and he didn't think he would ever get the answer. 

"It had been years, Rafe," he began, leaning back against his seat as their friend began ending her piece, "why don't you just tell her how you feel?" Maybe this time he would finally get his answer, he thought. 

Rafe swallowed his whiskey, watching the brown liquid swirling around his glass when he finally answered, "It would complicate things, Charlie, you know that."

"I hope you don't actually believe that."

Rafe turned to his friend, annoyed at the sudden probe, "I do, I really do. It's the only way I can keep her close."

Charlie shakes his head, taking a sip at his water before adding, "You make it sound like you're in some kind of forbidden romance. It's not that big of a deal."

"It is, Charlie," Rafe downed his whiskey, placing the empty glass on the table between them with a loud clunk, "you just don't understand. Lila had always been out of my league."

Charlie could only mull over his friend's words, watching their friend, Lila finally standing to face the audience, keeping one hand on the side of her piano as she took her bow. The whole theatre was roaring with applause when he felt Rafe tapping his shoulder, capturing his attention. 

"I'll see you in two days." 

"Where are you going? Aren't you going to give those roses to Lila?" 

Rafe held up the roses, showing his friend that he had already had them. Charlie nodded in return, then asking, "I thought you're still waiting for her answer?" He did say that he would only be going to the wedding if she does. 

"She's going, I'm sure now." he replied, heading towards the door and out of sight, eager to beat the crowd that would eventually form from the stage all the way to her dressing room. 

"How would you know?" Charlie called out to his best friend who had all but disappeared out of their box, "Rafe!" 

Rafe wanted to make sure there would be little to no witnesses to what he's about to do and judging by the roaring sound of applause that's still going on, it would take some time before she would actually show up in her dressing room, tired and ready to go home. He had been to enough of her concerts to know, after all. 

Charlie shook his head wondering why he even bothered to care about his friend's confusing love life when he, himself, wouldn't do anything about it. Still, seeing the crowd that's threatening to form around her, he decided to sit for a little while, finishing his glass of water because when else could he enjoy the luxuries of the most private seat in the theatre? Thanks to their close connection to the pianist and well, Rafe being Rafe, they managed to get the best seat in the theatre. He's pretty sure that his best friend thinks he's the Phantom of the Opera.

Lila couldn't really see the crowd with all the lights shining right at her. She could hear and feel them though, their applause and their cheers, the flowers they threw to the stage as she held the bouquet of flowers gifted by one of the donors of the theatre. The adoration, the admiration was palpable around the theatre and she couldn't help but close her eyes, letting their energy seep into her skin, storing it deep down into her soul as she felt her body gradually drawing energy from it all. She opened her eyes and took another bow, a final one this time now that she had finally finished one of the most grueling setlists she had ever performed. 

Lila didn't know why out of all the composers, all the music she could've chosen, she had chosen one grueling piece after another but there was just something about it all that spoke to her. Especially Chopin's Concerto No.1 Op.11 in the end, where she really felt that she had lost a part of herself like she had never before. Not even when she competed in the Chopin Piano Competition years ago. 

"Congratulations Ms.Evadne," Maestro Fioretti, wished once they were finally making their way backstage after the curtain call, he patted her back, "I have no doubt that everyone in this room will be talking about this performance for a long time to come, especially the Chopin at the end," he gave her a thumbs up, "amazing! I bet the audience was as moved as we are."

She laughed whilst feeling the heat forming at her cheeks, "Thank you, Maestro. Couldn't have done it as well without your direction and your orchestra."

"Well hopefully we'll be able to work together next time," he gave her a little bow, "congratulations once again."

She nodded, watching him walk away only to be bombarded by her publicist and a few reporters waiting with their cameras and recorders in hand, like a fish assessing its bait. Some from renowned classical music magazines, blogs and large news outlets who are doing a piece on her performance at one of the most prestigious theatres in the country for the past two weeks. They had wanted a month, but she drew a line at two weeks. After all, it was the most grueling piece and she'd be damned if she couldn't perform it all perfectly due to exhaustion. 

"Do we have to do this now?" Lila whispered to her publicist, her longtime friend, Addie, "I mean, can I at least get changed first?"

"Trust me, the sooner you get this done, the faster you can head back and relax."

Lila groaned inwardly before fixing her stage smile, flashing it to these cameras as soon as her publicist had directed them to start. She tried to answer all their questions as eloquently as she can, which wasn't that hard due to her upbringing but she can't help but grow frustrated at the questions. Again and again, she seemed to answer the same question in different forms. It was like these publications are trying to compete for views on the same story. 

Addie knew Lila had always been the shy, quiet girl at school. Always lost in her own world, she was always branded as the 'weirdo' back in school, more content with earphones in her ears studying her music than actually establishing a social life. Everyone was shocked when she ended up dating one of the most popular guys in school. The girls would wonder how she managed to land a guy like that while the guys would wonder how he managed to land a quiet girl like her. Though their breakup was messy and terrible, she used it to fuel her career as a classical pianist, so it's no wonder that she had gone on into being one of the world's most renowned pianists. 

As the questions started to get more personal and seeing Lila starting to wobble from all the fake smiles and mannerisms, Addie took it as a sign that enough is enough. They had asked more than a few questions and had gotten more than what they had bargained for, after all. So she put her hand out, "Okay guys, thank you for your time and interests, but that's enough for today. Ms.Evadne needs to get her rest."

Lila flashed them a performing smile, "Thank you for coming. I hope you enjoyed the concert."

"Go have a rest, I'll see you when I see you." Addie said to her before ushering them all away, leading them along with a few security guards towards the stage exit. 

Gripping her flowers closer to her chest, Lila made her way back to her dressing room, giving a nod to the few members from the orchestra as she passed them by before finally being greeted by her dressing room door. She had never welcomed such a sight. Already she could feel her body sighing in relief, ready to be rid of this dress. But as soon as she opened the door, she was greeted by a man in a black tux standing in front of her dressing table with his finger pinching on the red petals of the roses being left there by some fan. She could tell by the athletic build and the straight way that he stood, that it's him.