Violin Snob (1/?)
Challenge #37, option 2
Title: Violin Snob
Words: 1,280
-0-0-0-0-
Nimble fingers holding down sinewy strings and agilely movements of the bow brought on beautiful music. I watched in rapt fascination as she played the violin, something I could never do, due to the simple particulars of being tone deaf, and having no rhythm.
She stopped playing to turn to me. “Yes?” her voice was cold, bored.
I came out of the shadows, looking down guiltily. “Just admiring talent,” I said quietly before looking up.
She merely rolled her eyes. “If that’s all,” she said dryly before looking me up and down. I tugged self-consciously at my sleeve, which prompted her to roll her eyes again. “Anything else?”
“Um…” I didn’t plan to being confronted by her. I didn’t even know I was going to creeper her out… “No.”
“Then can you please leave?” she looked towards the door, “I have to practice for my recital,” she added when I made no move.
I jerked out of my stupor. I was so entranced by her flowing black hair, snow-white skin, and sparkling blue eyes. “Oh, yeah, sure,” I gave her a nervous smile before speed walking out of the auditorium.
-0-
She may be way out of my league, but there was something about her… In complete creeper mode, I felt drawn to her.
Holding a bouquet of flowers-I got random ones, hoping at least one of them would be a favourite-I waited with the medium-sized crowd of people waiting for her to exit the backstage. When she did, she looked flustered at all the attention.
I’d say I understood, but that would be a lie… Glancing quickly around myself, none of the other people looking remotely similar to the production crew I worked with…these were all fans. I walked towards her and handed her the flowers.
She looked surprised, but even more so when I boldly guided her through the crowd, allowing her to sign a few autographs, before walking her to the car she pointed out.
It was the first time that she looked flustered, in front of me. “Thank you,” she smiled an endearing smile before getting into the car.
I didn’t hide the annoyance of the droll, “Who’s the loser?” before the door was closed.
Gee, thanks random man-boy who couldn’t help her out. I rolled my eyes and made my way down the sidewalk. My apartment was only a few blocks from my school, which was a score. I was merely a backstage person, when it came to the theatre arts. My only reason going to a school for said arts, was my writing prowess. I wrote most of the stage productions, without setting foot on stage.
I also sang, but hey-no one needed to know that little detail…
-0-
“I’m sorry about Josh-after you helped me and all-he didn’t have any right calling you a loser,”
She was talking to me.
Oh, Lord, she was talking to me! My mental freak out was dimmed as she waited for me to respond. I blinked owlishly before pushing my thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of my nose. “It’s okay,” I gulped a second, “Not like he was lying,” I added with a good-natured smile.
She gave me a nervous smile back and rubbed her hands together awkwardly. “I wanted to thank you, again,” she said softly.
“Uh…yeah…honestly, I have no idea why I helped the way I did-I’m usually way too socially awkward to help people, much less give them flowers,” I flushed crimson. “I mean, that’s the first time I’ve tried, but I expected to be brushed passed, and have had to walk home with a bouquet of random flowers.”
She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I liked it-it’s so boring when they’re in an arrangement,” she said and her cheeks tinted pint.
I smiled at that. “Well, did you have a favourite out of any of them?” I asked.
“I liked the lily, I think, the most,” she thought it over before nodding and smiling at me.
I shuffled my feet awkwardly and wrung my fingers together. “I should get going-script isn’t going to write itself,” I jerked a thumb behind my shoulder.
She looked confused before her eyes lit up. “You’re the first play’s writer, this year?” she asked excitedly.
“Um…” I scratched my cheek, “The year’s play writer,” I corrected, “I’ll be having co-writers, but…I’m the main writer,”
“That’s so cool,” her smile really was endearing… “I could never write anything so…did you write any of the plays last year?” she looked expectant.
“The last one of the year,” I shrugged. I had transferred, just in time for them to start rehearsing my play, and produce it, and all those other things that comes of being a writer. She was the lead in that play, and she was amazing.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “That was my favourite play of the year, and not because I played lead!” she exclaimed as she smacked my arm, “You did not write that!” she added in disbelief.
“Yeah…I did,” I had to give her a nervous smile. Her attitude did a total one eighty. “I write different genres,” I added, to dissipate her confusion. My play last year was extremely serious, and dramatic. This year’s first play was a romantic comedy.
“Ooh,” she nodded in understanding before her eyes lit up. “I read the script, and giggled at all the dialogue,” she said with a smile. “It’s ingenious,” she grabbed my arm as she dragged me down the hall. “The back and forth banter between the two ‘to-be lovers’; the seriousness with her friends before it’s all back to being hilariously funny and silly-it’s divine,”
I shifted and grinned, despite myself. “Thank you,” I said graciously. Nowhere near close to being used to praise, I just nodded slowly. “I thought you did amazing as Amy, last year,” I added when she looked at me with her eyebrows raised.
“Oh, thank you!” she blushed and smiled. “It was hard, playing someone with so many problems,” she added.
I nodded solemnly. “Yeah, the director said he had trouble with some of the cast-not saying it was you, but he said some kept stumbling over the words, or-,”
“That was Chris,” she promptly stated. “Kept messing up words, or blushing like crazy whenever one of your more ‘adult’ themes came up,” she grinned and looked down. “I really did love doing the play, though,” she patted my arm before looking to her side. We both stared as Josh, her boyfriend, walked over to us.
“Sup, nerd?” he asked as he ran a hand through his hair. They matched. Blue eyes, black hair, and very pale.
I crinkled my nose at that. “Nothing…just talking to Terry about the play,”
“You…are you trying out for it?” he scoffed. “I’ve never seen you do a creative thing since you got here-and that begs the question, why are you here?” he leaned forward, looking intimidating.
Or, trying to.
I’m not sure…
Terry pushed at his chest, an annoyed look plastered on her face. “He’s the writer of the play, Josh,” she huffed. “Now, walk me the rest of the way to class, and leave him alone,” she flashed me one last smile as he walked her three feet to the door.
No, seriously. We were only three feet from her next class!
I scratched my chin before walking away quickly from Josh’s glare. He wasn’t intimidating when he tried, but when it was the baser animal instinct-that was scary.
And his meaning was clear, stay away.
Too bad, I got a taste of being her friend.
Title: Violin Snob
Words: 1,280
-0-0-0-0-
Nimble fingers holding down sinewy strings and agilely movements of the bow brought on beautiful music. I watched in rapt fascination as she played the violin, something I could never do, due to the simple particulars of being tone deaf, and having no rhythm.
She stopped playing to turn to me. “Yes?” her voice was cold, bored.
I came out of the shadows, looking down guiltily. “Just admiring talent,” I said quietly before looking up.
She merely rolled her eyes. “If that’s all,” she said dryly before looking me up and down. I tugged self-consciously at my sleeve, which prompted her to roll her eyes again. “Anything else?”
“Um…” I didn’t plan to being confronted by her. I didn’t even know I was going to creeper her out… “No.”
“Then can you please leave?” she looked towards the door, “I have to practice for my recital,” she added when I made no move.
I jerked out of my stupor. I was so entranced by her flowing black hair, snow-white skin, and sparkling blue eyes. “Oh, yeah, sure,” I gave her a nervous smile before speed walking out of the auditorium.
-0-
She may be way out of my league, but there was something about her… In complete creeper mode, I felt drawn to her.
Holding a bouquet of flowers-I got random ones, hoping at least one of them would be a favourite-I waited with the medium-sized crowd of people waiting for her to exit the backstage. When she did, she looked flustered at all the attention.
I’d say I understood, but that would be a lie… Glancing quickly around myself, none of the other people looking remotely similar to the production crew I worked with…these were all fans. I walked towards her and handed her the flowers.
She looked surprised, but even more so when I boldly guided her through the crowd, allowing her to sign a few autographs, before walking her to the car she pointed out.
It was the first time that she looked flustered, in front of me. “Thank you,” she smiled an endearing smile before getting into the car.
I didn’t hide the annoyance of the droll, “Who’s the loser?” before the door was closed.
Gee, thanks random man-boy who couldn’t help her out. I rolled my eyes and made my way down the sidewalk. My apartment was only a few blocks from my school, which was a score. I was merely a backstage person, when it came to the theatre arts. My only reason going to a school for said arts, was my writing prowess. I wrote most of the stage productions, without setting foot on stage.
I also sang, but hey-no one needed to know that little detail…
-0-
“I’m sorry about Josh-after you helped me and all-he didn’t have any right calling you a loser,”
She was talking to me.
Oh, Lord, she was talking to me! My mental freak out was dimmed as she waited for me to respond. I blinked owlishly before pushing my thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of my nose. “It’s okay,” I gulped a second, “Not like he was lying,” I added with a good-natured smile.
She gave me a nervous smile back and rubbed her hands together awkwardly. “I wanted to thank you, again,” she said softly.
“Uh…yeah…honestly, I have no idea why I helped the way I did-I’m usually way too socially awkward to help people, much less give them flowers,” I flushed crimson. “I mean, that’s the first time I’ve tried, but I expected to be brushed passed, and have had to walk home with a bouquet of random flowers.”
She smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I liked it-it’s so boring when they’re in an arrangement,” she said and her cheeks tinted pint.
I smiled at that. “Well, did you have a favourite out of any of them?” I asked.
“I liked the lily, I think, the most,” she thought it over before nodding and smiling at me.
I shuffled my feet awkwardly and wrung my fingers together. “I should get going-script isn’t going to write itself,” I jerked a thumb behind my shoulder.
She looked confused before her eyes lit up. “You’re the first play’s writer, this year?” she asked excitedly.
“Um…” I scratched my cheek, “The year’s play writer,” I corrected, “I’ll be having co-writers, but…I’m the main writer,”
“That’s so cool,” her smile really was endearing… “I could never write anything so…did you write any of the plays last year?” she looked expectant.
“The last one of the year,” I shrugged. I had transferred, just in time for them to start rehearsing my play, and produce it, and all those other things that comes of being a writer. She was the lead in that play, and she was amazing.
Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “That was my favourite play of the year, and not because I played lead!” she exclaimed as she smacked my arm, “You did not write that!” she added in disbelief.
“Yeah…I did,” I had to give her a nervous smile. Her attitude did a total one eighty. “I write different genres,” I added, to dissipate her confusion. My play last year was extremely serious, and dramatic. This year’s first play was a romantic comedy.
“Ooh,” she nodded in understanding before her eyes lit up. “I read the script, and giggled at all the dialogue,” she said with a smile. “It’s ingenious,” she grabbed my arm as she dragged me down the hall. “The back and forth banter between the two ‘to-be lovers’; the seriousness with her friends before it’s all back to being hilariously funny and silly-it’s divine,”
I shifted and grinned, despite myself. “Thank you,” I said graciously. Nowhere near close to being used to praise, I just nodded slowly. “I thought you did amazing as Amy, last year,” I added when she looked at me with her eyebrows raised.
“Oh, thank you!” she blushed and smiled. “It was hard, playing someone with so many problems,” she added.
I nodded solemnly. “Yeah, the director said he had trouble with some of the cast-not saying it was you, but he said some kept stumbling over the words, or-,”
“That was Chris,” she promptly stated. “Kept messing up words, or blushing like crazy whenever one of your more ‘adult’ themes came up,” she grinned and looked down. “I really did love doing the play, though,” she patted my arm before looking to her side. We both stared as Josh, her boyfriend, walked over to us.
“Sup, nerd?” he asked as he ran a hand through his hair. They matched. Blue eyes, black hair, and very pale.
I crinkled my nose at that. “Nothing…just talking to Terry about the play,”
“You…are you trying out for it?” he scoffed. “I’ve never seen you do a creative thing since you got here-and that begs the question, why are you here?” he leaned forward, looking intimidating.
Or, trying to.
I’m not sure…
Terry pushed at his chest, an annoyed look plastered on her face. “He’s the writer of the play, Josh,” she huffed. “Now, walk me the rest of the way to class, and leave him alone,” she flashed me one last smile as he walked her three feet to the door.
No, seriously. We were only three feet from her next class!
I scratched my chin before walking away quickly from Josh’s glare. He wasn’t intimidating when he tried, but when it was the baser animal instinct-that was scary.
And his meaning was clear, stay away.
Too bad, I got a taste of being her friend.