The music room was one of the few places I could breathe freely and be Isabelle Duval.
The air here always smells like old wood and faint metals of piano wires. But tonight? There was none of that. I felt really empty. I curled up on the floor in the corner of the room. I held onto my knees so tight as if I was about to float away.
I kept swallowing the tears because once I started crying, I knew I wouldn't stop. Julien, my one true friend, the only guy who didn't look at me like a project was just another player. He "bought" my safety. He handled my 'case' like it couldn't survive without his family name on the tag.
Then the door slammed open.
I didn't have to look up to know who that was. I recognized those arrogant steps.
"Dmitri, please leave me be," I said. "You are the last person I would want to see right now.
"Hiding in the dark is a bad habit, Isabelle." I heard the lock click. He was shutting us in.
He walked into the middle of the room, still wearing his basketball gear with a jacket thrown over his shoulders. He looked down at me.
"Did you come to finish the job?" I asked, finally looking at him. My eyes were just as hard as his. "You trashed the only friend I had. You humiliated him in front of everyone. Happy now?"
Dmitri stepped closer until the light behind him disappeared and all I could see was him. "I didn't trash him. I just pulled the mask off. You should be thankful. If the truth broke him, he was never worth your time."
"He was protecting me!" I snapped, springing to my feet. I hated having to look up at him.
Dmitri let out a dry laugh. He closed the gap until I was backed against the piano. The keys let out this soft, weird groan as I leaned into them. "Protecting you? He was owning you. He was making sure your success belonged to the Rousseaus. He's a liar, Isabelle. He's a 'Saint' who buys his way into your heart. At least I'm not pretending to be something I'm not"
"Honesty?" I pushed against his chest, but he didn't budge. It was like pushing a wall. "You broke my bow. You stalk me. You make my life hell just because you can! That's not honesty, Dmitri. That's just being a prick."
He grabbed my wrists. His grip was tight and possessive. I let out a gasp. "It's real. Every look I give you, every time I push you until you snap, it's the only real thing in this fake school. Everyone else is acting. But you and me? We aren't lying."
"We? You and me? There's no we," I whispered.
"I hate you." My voice was shaking with rage and this other terrifying feeling I didn't want to acknowledge.
"I know," he murmured. He leaned down until our foreheads almost touched. I could feel the heat coming off him. "But you don't doubt me. You know exactly what I want. Can you say the same for Julien now?"
Then, a frantic knocking hit the door.
"Isabelle? Isabelle, are you in there?"
It was Julien. His voice sounded wrecked, desperate and totally stripped of that "Golden Boy" mask.
Dmitri's grip tightened for a second, his eyes flashing with that crazy jealousy again. He stood still. He didn't even look at the door. He just stared at me, daring me to call out.
"Isabelle, please!" Julien yelled through the wood. "I can explain. My father... he wouldn't listen, I just wanted you to be safe after what Dmitri did! I didn't mean to take your merit away. Please, just open the door!"
I looked at the door, then back at Dmitri. I could see the pulse jumping in his neck. He was waiting.
"Tell him to go away," Dmitri whispered. It sounded like a dark temptation. "Tell him you don't need a savior who buys his way into your life."
I felt like my chest was splitting open and they were both pulling each side . Part of me wanted to run to Julien and forgive him because he meant well. But the other part, the part sharpened by this crappy school, knew Dmitri was right. Julien had treated me like a project.
"Julien," I called out.
Dmitri's eyes went dark.
"Go away," I said, louder.
Silence. I heard a muffled sound, maybe a sob, maybe just a breath. Then, the sound of footsteps walking away, slow and defeated.
I felt sick. I'd just cut my only anchor loose.
Dmitri let go of my wrists, but he stayed close. He reached out and brushed his thumb against my cheek. It was this weird, tender touch that scared me more than his anger.
"Good girl," he murmured.
I slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare touch me. I didn't do that for you. I did it because I'm tired of being everyone's charity case. You're just as bad as he is, Dmitri. You just use different weapons."
I grabbed my violin case and headed for the door. As I reached for the handle, his voice stopped me.
"You're wrong about one thing, Isabelle."
I didn't turn around.
"I don't want to save you," he said, his voice low and heavy. "And I don't want to buy you. I just want to see how far you'll go before you realize you belong in my world."
I didn't say anything. I unlocked the door and stepped out into the dark hall. But as I walked back to my dorm, the silence of the school felt heavier than ever. Julien was gone. Dmitri was a shadow I couldn't shake. And I could still hear the whispers.
"She looks just like her…"
Dmitri had taken away the only person I had left. And now that the "Saint" was gone, there was nobody left to stop the "Devil" from taking what he wanted.
Dmitri's POV
After she left, I stood in the dark room alone, sniffing the smell of her lavender shampoo like it was some kind of medicine to cure this madness.
My heart was thumping like crazy. I had won her over whether she likes it or not. I'd trashed Julien's dignity and taken his girl in one afternoon. I should be satisfied.
Instead, I just felt this hunger that was getting worse.
I walked over to the piano and hit a single key. A low, crappy note rang out. I thought about how she looked at me, hatred mixed with that raw, "I see you" look. She was starting to get it. She was starting to see the dark thread between us that Julien's "kindness" could never touch.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a crumpled photo I'd swiped from the archives. An old class photo from twenty years ago. In the back row, there was a girl with silver eyes and a tilt to her head that was exactly like Isabelle's.
My dad had been in that class. So had Julien's.
I stared at the girl in the photo. She was the "ghost" of St. Aurelia. The one who vanished. The one nobody talked about. And now, twenty years later, she's back as a scholarship kid with a violin and a heart full of fire.
"You have no idea what you walked into, Isabelle," I whispered to the empty room.
I wasn't just obsessed because of her music or her face. I was obsessed because she's a secret that was never supposed to be told. And I was going to peel her open until she admits she's always been mine.
This had stopped being some stupid high school rivalry. This was about blood. This was about history. And I was going to make sure that this time, the girl didn't disappear.
She was staying. With me.