Hallows: Eulalie

Me And Me Alone

Orchestre Symphonique de Montreal- Mussorgsky: A Night On The Bare Mountain

Ashley:

I can hear the music of the orchestra outside and it's almost over. I'm next and I can't stop pacing the waiting room flexing my hands under the black cloak Tam let me borrow. I have the hood over my head, needing to feel less of the high ceilings in here. I'm muttering my notes out loud to myself. My heart is beating frantically and I feel like I'm on the verge of a panic attack. A tap on the door makes me stop. I look up to see someone opening the door. I know it's him before I turn around. He stands there looking at me as I freak out a little.

"I should quit," I blurt out and push the hood off my head. "Look at me. This isn't who I am. I'm just some weird Southside nobody. I don't belong out there. What the f**k am I wearing? How could I think I could do that? I'm so f*****g dumb."

"Ashley," he grins. "Holy, s**t. You look amazing."

"Please, don't patronize me. Say something mean," I shake my head.

"You're right. You are some Southside nobody. You should quit. You're not that good anyway," he shrugs.

"f**k you," I almost shout. He laughs. "More,"

"What are you even doing here? Why did you come here if you weren't going to take this s**t seriously? You could be out there slanging pills and weed to your other low-life southside s**t stains. Who are you kidding, Villanueva? You're no one. Nothing. You're going to go out there and f*****g embarrass yourself, further proving that you don't f*****g belong here."

"Okay, okay," I stop him. "I said say something mean not destroy my soul, you d**k,"

"Better?" he smirks.

"Yes," I nod taking a couple of deep breaths. "Much. Thank you,"

"Whenever you want me to degrade you, all you gotta do is ask," he smiles, wickedly.

"I've never played for people who actually follow this. If I make just one mistake, they're going to know."

"Then don't make a mistake," he smirks.

"Shut up, Dante,"

"I'm going to let that one slide because I know you're nervous. Come here," he holds his hand out. I look down at it skeptically. He groans, stalking toward me, and grabs my hand. He pulls me with him until we're standing in front of a full-length mirror.

"Dude," I complain.

I didn't want to look at myself back in the room, but seeing myself now, I feel a little better. The girl standing here isn't me. She looks like one of them. A rich socialite who's been handed the world from the moment she was born. I look up at Dante's reflection as he holds me in place by my shoulders.

"Tonight, you're not Ashley Villanueva. You're that girl," he points at the mirror. "If it helps, you can borrow my last name. It suits you in this dress," he rubs my arms as if to warm me, but his hands are ice cold. "Wear it as a mask,"

"Ashley Blackstone?" I laugh. He smiles the way he did at the table last night.

"Ashley Blackstone," he confirms. "Don't make me look bad out there, Ash. I'll never forgive you for tarnishing my name."

"I wouldn't want to do that," I shake my head. He takes a step back when the choreographer barges in.

"Ashley, yes?"

"Yes," I nod.

"This is cute," he looks me over and then removes the cloak. "Very elegant. Versace?"

"What else?" Dante scoffs.

"Very elegant," he nods. "You're on next. Are you ready?"

"Ready," I nod. With his pen, he pushes my head up.

"Back straight, chin up, shoulders squared. You're the star of the show, Ashley. Everyone else was just foreplay. Get out there and ruin their lives, sweetheart. I've heard the rumors. Show me what you've got," he motions me to the door. I look back at Dante.

"f**k it up, Kitten," he gives me a nod.

I grab my portfolio. Kelly insisted that I get a leather one and when I refused she got me one anyway. The man leads me to the stage and stops me from walking out. I close my eyes and listen to the narrator dismiss the orchestra.

"For our finale, we have a new rising star present tonight. This solo act-" I tune his voice out until he calls my name. The man behind me gives me a light push.

I straighten up the way he told me to and make my way over to the bench. I face the crowd and bow the way Tam and I practiced. I make my way over to the bench and open my folder before taking a seat. I adjust my dress around me and take a deep breath. The lights all dim around me and I let the air in my lungs out.

I close my eyes and arch back, positioning my hands over the keys. All of the emotions I've been holding in all week wash over me as I begin. It's been a long week. A long few months actually. I've let go of a lot of what meant everything to me. My promises to myself. I swore I'd never hurt anyone again after I walked out of that basement.

In the past four weeks, I've killed five people. One of those was an innocent girl. I lost my father and my home. My mother can't even be bothered to answer a phone call. I'm stranded in a place where I'm nobody. Where these people tear each other up like animals.

Yet, for some unknown reason, I'm sitting here in front of all these people. This is the last thing I have that belongs to me and me alone. The very last piece of the girl who wanted to play pretty music. The only thing holding me together. The very last sliver of hope I have left, because the rest of me is drowning in sin and rage.

My hands move over the keys for the millionth time since I finished this song, but it's not as smooth as it had been the other times. I can feel the anger slipping through my hands and into the keys as I curse them all.

My parents for pushing me away when we all needed each other the most. Jimenez for being the f*****g worst human being in existence. Kelly and Dante for making me feel like I'm just a f*****g toy they can twist and bend to their will. Tiffany and Aubrey for being so f*****g entitled and vengeful. And most importantly, myself. For giving into all of it. For letting them tell me what to f*****g do. For letting them push me around like some lost fucking...kitten.

The notes end and silence falls over the theatre. For a moment, all I can hear is the sound of my heart pounding against my chest like it wants to break free. My heavy angry pants and then a soft pounding of flesh. Two hands smacking together. Once. Twice. Thrice. And then a flutter of hundreds of hands clapping. The sound echoes in my ears like thunder as I look down at the keys with all the hate I feel inside of me.

"Get up," the choreographer shouts over the applause. "Get up and take a bow,"

I shake my head and give him a nod. I try to stand up but my legs feel like jello and I fall back on the bench. I shut the lid over the keys and use it to push myself up to my feet. I turn to face the sea of darkness and loud whistles. I grab the edges of my dress and bow properly. I stand up straight despite the protests of my body. There are red roses raining down around me as I stand here. I look over at the choreographer who is clapping along with everyone.

"What now?" I ask him. He laughs and waves me over to him. I wave at the people and start making my way over to him.

"Your booklet," he points at the piano.

"Right," I go back to get it.

The crowd doesn't stop cheering as I make my way back to the choreographer. He's talking to me but I can't really hear what he's saying. He has a smile and I think he's praising me, but my ears are ringing. There are others now, all of them reaching out for me, pulling me in different directions.

"Stop," I try to pull away. "Get off me,"

"Ashley, Ashley, Ashley," my name is being chanted all around me. The unfamiliar faces are all blurring together.

"Don't touch me. Get the f**k off of me," I shout.

"Get off of her," someone shouts. I turn around to see David and Dante standing there. Dante is pushing people away from me.

"David," he calls out.

"Come here, Ash," David grabs my hand and wraps his arm around my waist. He pulls me into him and scoops me up into his arms. I'm taken away from the crowd and shoved into the room I had been waiting in. "She's hurt,"

"What?" I ask feeling dazed when he sets me down.

"Ash, can you hear me?" David asks. I nod. I flinch when a light is shined in my face. I turn my head and my hair falls forward. My scalp aches.

"What happened?" I ask, but my voice comes out hoarse and broken.

"Get me the first aid kit, Kels," he demands. "Dante, get her some water,"

"David," I start panicking.

"Hey, hey," he smiles, putting his hands on both sides of my face. "You're okay. Maybe next time we get you a security team, hmm? You got some scratches from the reporters trying to grab at you. You're okay."

I push him away from me and get up to go over to the mirror. My hair is a mess. The pins were all ripped out. There are scratches on my arms and my chest. I'm covered in glitter, sweat, and blood. Tears fill my eyes when I look down at my first dress ever. They ripped it. Tore it apart.

"My dress," I lift the tattered material.

"There'll be more dresses," I look back to see Dante standing behind me again. "Don't worry about that. You did great, Villanueva. You didn't f**k up my name for a moment,"