[JEANETTE ELIZA REYNOLDS]

jeanette made her way down the stairs from her dorm. she had been told that the band hall was available for use in the mornings when lessons weren't on. she had checked the timetable the day beforehand, and found no-one using it the next morning for at least three hours. she had literally ran from her bed, got herself washed, dressed and looking as neat as she could without spending much time at all; bundled all her sheet music into a nice pile, slipped her shoes on and ran down towards the room.

she had only learnt how to get there...she hadn't found out where anything else was - merely the drama studio. she had seen the piano in there - a gleaming black grand piano...and she was going to use it! her black knee-high stiletto hell boots clicked on the stairs, her skinny jeans tucked into them neatly. her halter necked white top which was made from nothing more than one layer of cotton and an almost seperate layer of net, floated gently as she walked. her blue eyes shone and her blone-brown hair bounced as she took every step.

she passed groups of students, and knew she must've looked strange, carrying papers that almost were piled to her neck. she finally got to the room, and, with difficulty, opened the door. he pushed it shut, again with difficulty, and walked down to the stage. there, on the right hand side was the piano she had always dreamed of one day owning. pulling a few sheets of music from the pile that she had placed on one of the chairs in the audience, she got on the stage, sat ont he stool, arranged the music...and started to play, her hands gliding effortlessly over the keys. she had done this before, numerous times. it was one of her favourite songs, and one of the only songs she knew she could sing well.

the chords and haunting melody started up, she knew what she was doing. just as she had done for the past two years, she opened her mouth, and let the notes glide.

Seems like it was yesterday when I saw your face
You told me how proud you were, but I walked away
If only I knew what I know today
Ooh, ooh

she prepared for the volume raise, and sang with her heart. she was thinking back to when her father had left. sure, she had only been five, but she remembered the look on his face. was he dead? was he still living where she had left from?

I would hold you in my arms
I would take the pain away
Thank you for all you've done
Forgive all your mistakes
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To hear your voice again
Sometimes I wanna call you
But I know you won't be there

she quietened slightly at this point, thinking of the past, thinking of everyone she missed, back in the UK.

Ohh I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself by hurting you

Some days I feel broke inside but I won't admit
Sometimes I just wanna hide 'cause it's you I miss
And it's so hard to say goodbye
When it comes to this, oooh

her voice crescendo-ed over the next four lines, her hands just keeping up with her voice. she was afraid she would be heard, but then, she hoped they'd be saying good things about her, wondering who the new kid was who could sing well. she hoped, but doubted it would happen.

Would you tell me I was wrong?
Would you help me understand?
Are you looking down upon me?
Are you proud of who I am?

There's nothing I wouldn't do
To have just one more chance
To look into your eyes
And see you looking back

she quietened slightly, just touching the soft pedal on the piano. it was meant to be quiet but not impossible to hear...not as quiet as the very last chorus.

Ohh I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself, ohh

she allowed herself to go full out on the last verse, the final hurdle until the end. she could do it. she could do it.

If I had just one more day
I would tell you how much that I've missed you
Since you've been away
Ooh, it's dangerous
It's so out of line
To try and turn back time

she quietened drastically when she got through those lines, and the soft pedal on the piano was pushed down with all the force she could muster. it was meant to be soft, regretful, saddened.

I'm sorry for blaming you
For everything I just couldn't do
And I've hurt myself by hurting you

she let the last few notes drift off and she sat back, her heart beating incredibly fast. the one song that would guarantee to send her heart rate going at one hundred miles an hour. she leant back as far as possible, adn then removed the music. as she did so, she heard someone walk in.

[FABIAN ALEXANDER GOLDING]

Fingers pressing repeatedly at beeping buttons, before lifting the cell up to his ear, Fabian Golding muttered swiftly under his breathe. Why wasn't she answering her phone? She'd pay when he caught up with her, which he knew wouldn't be all that long of a wait. Jeanette Reynolds wasn't all that hard to find, in truth. And after six and a half months of friendship, finding her would prove a simple task for Fabian. He already had a good idea of where she'd be this time of day, this time of the morning, and his feet had already begun the short journey to the Theatre & Band hall. The phone in his hand continued to ring, before the poison that was her voicemail struck it, zapping the little credit he knew he had on it. He needed to get a call plan.

Various classrooms passed by him as he made his way around each of the corners building, a building he'd only recently become accustom to. Being a freshman had, in many ways, proved easier than he had obsessed over during the summer between high school and college. The size of Santa Poulo Community College, however, he had not exaggerated in his day dreams. If anything, he had thought over it enough. On arrival, he'd pretty much palpitated with nerves, to find that it wasn't as terribly frightening as he'd expected. Not to mention, he had his brothers, well, brother. Only one of them hadn't been all to stirring, only one of them helpful to any degree.

Two hundred steps and three calls later, Fabian rounded the corner, the doors to the Band hall and Auditorium in plain view. But it was not what he could see that made his quick paced legs fall to an abrupt stop, it was the noise that reached his ears. Jeanette, singing, singing her heart out by the sounds of it. Although he knew she would not hear his approach, his trainers quiet on the hard wood flooring, the sound of her own voice blocking out any sound he could or would make, he crept forwards towards the ajar door, and pushed it the slightest fraction to allow himself to squeeze through the narrow gap. This would be a treat, a performance from an artist, unweighted by the idea of an audience. Fabian leant against the dark oak of the doorframe, a chill shooting up his spine as Jeanette reached a flowing group of notes that seemed to make the air vibrate alongside the music she played. She was excellent, as she always was, but something about her voice as she sang, unknowingly heard, sent further shivers down his spine.

And as the final few chords faded, he stepped from his listening post, his feet heavier on the floor than they had been, before clapping quietly, a smile on his face. "That was amazing, miss. Simply amazing... In fact, it's made me forget all about your lack of cell phone awareness..."

[JEANETTE ELIZA REYNOLDS]

Jeanette heard a voice and the sound of applause. She looked up, and saw someone she hadn't expected to see. "Fabian!" she said in her British accent that sounded so out of place there; her voice echoing off the walls. His quiet compliment hadn't gone unnoticed and her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. She smiled as she heard his last words, and then replied, slightly embarrassed, "Oh I didn't, did I?" She pulled her phone out from her jean pocket and saw the "three missed calls" message. She kind of flicked her eys to the side and bit her lip. "I should have remembered to put it on "Vibrate", this morning. Sorry..." she said, and shrugged in a "what-can-you-do-with-me" fashion.

"So...what was so important that you needed to call me three times to tell me?" She said, swivelling her legs around to the side of the piano stool, so that she was looking directly at him. "Or were you just missing me that much?" She added, laughing gently. She was a wind-up merchant at points, and she knew it. She knew, though, that if he retorted in any way - she'd be the one who looked surprised. She took the music from the piano and stood up. The heels made her look at least two inches taller, if not three. Walking down the stairs from the stage, they clicked and made her feel rather self-conscious. She was alright wearing them in front of groups of people - but put her in front of less than four and she got rather conscious of herself. Placing the papers down on top of the rest of the pile, she walked up to him. What had he wanted to tlak to her about? Or was it just one of those "Hey...I was wondering if you wanted to hang out somewhere?" conversations he had wanted to hold with her?

[FABIAN ALEXANDER GOLDING]

Fabian shook his head lightly, smile still splaying as equally as it had done upon hearing Jeanette's beautiful playing. "I was only half-serious, really. It doesn't matter..." he replied, hoping to calm her mild embarrassment. The pink on her cheeks had not gone unnoticed, and a familiar twinge twanged through his stomach at the acceptance of his compliment. "Anyways, I should have guessed, Miss Sieve. Sorry for like, bombarding your phone." The wording differences between Fabian and Jeanette stood boldly within the space between them, not a hint of negativity in it, positive and evoking as it always was. His mildly southern voice, harbored with the odd exaggeration in his consonants, her fast paced vowel .

As she swiveled to the side of the piano, standing to make her way down towards where Fabian stood, he listened to her as he too walked to the edge of the stage stairs. "Well, it wasn't anything too important I guess, he began, the click of his friends high-heels piercing his words. His eyes glanced in their direction for a moment, a few safety figures on heels and staircases passing though his mind, before he doubled them in the case of Jeanette. They were pretty shoes, but Jeanette's aptness to let her concentration slip whilst in his presence made him wary. He'd have to watch out for them. "Firstly, I wanted to remind you that you promised to go into town later this week," he said, his eyebrows lowering whilst his smile slipped into something else. The biting of his lower lip. "And, I wanted to know if you had any plans tomorrow? I really want to go down to Century 14 with Claire, but I want you to come too. And I may need to like, keep her occupied... give her someone to talk too? I have to book the tickets, see..."

"She's might bring her brother, Jermey, along..."

[JEANETTE ELIZA REYNOLDS]

She heard his brush over of the topic, but she still felt embarrassed. She was renowned for forgetting to do trivial things like that - and then being told about what she'd forgotten to do, by her friends. She looked at him and shrugged. "I know...but...I really ought to have done that. She heard his apology and she laughed gently. "Yeah...sieve suits me. I'd prefer it if it didn't...but," she shrugged, "It works. And, seriously, don't apologise. If it happened more often - perhaps I'd remember to turn it onto the right settings!" She said, shrugging once more.

She heard his reminded and she nodded. "Actually, I remembered that one." She said, pulling a small diary from her back pocket. Flicking to the page, she showed him a neat memo in her own handwriting, saying "CITY. THIS WEEK. FABIAN." She smiled brightly, and then shut it and put it back into her back pocket. "See? I can remember most things like that!" She sounded like a hyperactive 8-year-old. She'd have to calm down. "When would you like to go? I mean, I have rather little to do this week. What about you?" She saw him bite his lip, and her own smile disappeared, only a small curve at the corner of her lip stayed. She wondered what on earth he was going to say. She hadn't seen him slip into something like that very often, so she was curious. Incredibly. Being a naturally inquisitive person, curiosity didn't just kill the cat. She knew that one day, it'd kill her, too.

She heard his question and she smiled gently. She loved going out to the cinema with friends; especially Fabian. They could have a fantastic laugh at most things, and usually wouldn't disrupt the cinema too much. "Yeah," she said, and found herself almost repeating her words beforehand. "I've got so little to do this week, tomorrow should be no problem." She found herself wondering what Claire and her brother were like - they had been spoken about a lot, but she had never really met them.

[OOC: The way you talk about Jeanette's shoes reminds me of me in mine! I kind of...killed my mother's feet by steeping on them BOTH at once...with my stilleto's. Oops. XD]

[FABIAN ALEXANDER GOLDING]

A small chuckle slipped through Fabian's lips as he read the short reminder in Jeanette's diary. Did she always carry that thing around with her? He had seen it numerous times, but he'd never really thought over the concept that she carried it with her wherever she went. But it seemed to fit now, especially when he paired it to his latest comparison for her.

"If I want to apologies, I shall, Miss," he replied, as she took her place beside him. He turned before he continued, trying to decide how to place the words so that it wouldn't seem like such a- ... a selfish reason to invite her. He linked his arm through hers, taking the first step towards the door in the hopes that she'd follow his lead. "I mean, I really want you to come and all, and I would have invited you anyway! But, it's just that..."

He stopped, his fingers reaching upward towards his collor. He tugged it away from his neck, where it seemed to itch annoyingly. Funny, how he hadn't notcied it before the blood had rushed to his face. He could feel it in his cheeks, pooling with the thought of Jeremy. Oh, Christ, he was so pathetic. Grow up, Mr, you're not in junior high anymore...

"I kind of need you to keep Claire company while I get to know Jeremy." he rushed in one breathe, painfully aware that he was nolonger looking at his friends face, but at his own shoes now, plain converse-esque types, the laces messed up. Wow. Why did he suddenly feel so self conscious. Oh yeah. He'd liked this guy since forever.

"Sorry. I really do want you there. It's just... you know."

[JEANETTE ELIZA REYNOLDS]

She heard him tell her that he'd apologise as and when he wished, and she shrugged. "Okay then." She said simply, and laughed. "I'll stop trying to stop you, then, I guess!" He seemed to be trying to find what to say, and she let him think. She didn't like butting in when people were unsure of their own words. She felt his arm link through hers and she followed him. "Oh! Wait!" She said, quickly, as she unlinked her arm and ran towards the pile of sheet music. "Um... Let me put this in the cupboard over there. They let me store things for a few days in there - saves me from taking it all the way back." She added, as she bundled the papers into a small cupboard to the left of the stage. Running back to him, she linked her arm though his again, and smiled brightly. "Sorry, what were you about to say?"

As she heard his words again, she thought it was cute how he seemed to be finding it so hard to find the right words. She saw him blush and she tried very hard not to smile. Okay, so who was he thinking of? As he rushed his words, she smiled. He wanted her to placate Claire, basically, though he was too nice to admit it. She saw him look at his shoes and she smiled gently. As he apologised once more, she patted him on the shoulder. "You like apologising, don't you? Well, don't. " She said, laughing quietly. "It's fine. It'll be the first time I've met Claire, so it'll be nice to meet someone new. Anyway, I know you like him, so I would have probably gone off with her anyway!"

She had known for a little while that whenever Jeremy passed, Fabian would act peculiar. She hadn't thought there might be something more there, but he was acting so much like he was crushing on him. Sure, Jeanette wasn't particularly pleased - she liked Fabian, but he seemed to be blissfully unaware, which was partly good... and partly bad.

"I'll be there, okay." She said, firmly. "Here, I'll prove it." She got the diary out once more, removed the pen from its side and found the date. Concentrating, she wrote neatly in the box underneath today's date "Century 14, Fabian, Claire, Jeremy - DO NOT FORGET!" Putting it away, she looked at him once more. "See?"