chapter 9

oliver

i take a deep breath, biting my lip and walking towards the same keyboard i played at my audition, only today, this piano seems much more intimidating. i turn my head slightly to look at samuel, and he just has his arms effortlessly crossed against his chest, blue eyes watching me impatiently, expecting me to recite a song i have not practiced more than twice.

i don't think i've ever felt this unprepared or insecure as i sit on the worn out leather bench, placing the slightly crumpled sheet of paper in the stand for reference and cracking my fingers before hovering my hands over the keys.

i can do this.

i press down on a few keys first, heart racing with nervousness as i play, mouth refusing to open and emit any kind of sound. i go against my body, clearing my throat and forcing myself to relax, eyes focused on the my fingers as i attempt to play, words leaving my mouth in a low pitch.

"my lungs will fill and then deflate,"

to me, i sound like i am just dribbling all over the place, smashing the chances of working with such a renowned producer. i feel small and embarrassed and insecure and i just really want to end this song before i either burst into tears, or set the place on fire with the immense heat radiating off of me.

"i have these thoughts so often," i'm reaching towards the end of the song now, repeating the first verse for a good measure and when i press a few more keys to end the song, i refuse to look back up at samuel, pursing my lips and resting my hands in my lap.

he is going to yell at me. and probably even ask to end the contract.

why the hell did i chose this song when i knew that i haven't practiced it enough?

it has been at least five minutes since i've finished the playing, and till now i haven't heard a single sound escape samuel's mouth. i don't even know if he's here anymore–

i look back to check and sure enough, samuel is no longer standing there. i sigh, burying my face in my hands and groaning out loud.

i have completely ruined my chances with him.

i pluck out the sheet from the stand and quietly walk out of the booth, running a hand through my hair and rolling my sleeves up. i take a deep breath, trying to ignore the uncomfortable twisting in my gut, and when i pass roslyn on my way, i stop her to ask about samuel.

"oh he's in the office again, he's talking to someone," she informed me and i just gave her a nervous smile, nodding and thanking her before making my way through the dark corridors, gulping and stopping outside the office door that was briefly shut.

"god that boy is talented, you will be pleased to meet him chris,"