MIA
“Again!” Sebastian’s voice echoes off the walls of the music room.
I stand beside the piano, illuminated by a single spotlight that shines from above. The heat of it burns into my scalp and a fine sheen of sweat covers my body despite the fact that the rest of me is almost frozen. My throat feels as though it’s torn to shreds, stretched too far while attempting to reach notes impossibly high.
Over the course of the past few hours, Sebastian has ripped the clothing from my body in fits of rage. For days, he has done nothing but demand I sing the same song over and over, determined that it will be stained with perfection before I perform for his mother. I’m weak from lack of sleep and lack of food, but Sebastian won’t let me stop until he’s satisfied. He’s made me gargle olive oil, he’s insisted on keeping me hydrated in order to soothe my vocals cords but he hasn’t allowed me the one thing I need. Rest. But my voice isn’t strong enough, isn’t powerful enough to hit the notes he’s demanding of it.
Silent tears fall, and I push them away with the backs of my hands, annoyed by their presence. Tears have become my constant companion, but they only make the tightness in my throat more painful. They only make my voice crack and bleed. They only anger Sebastian.
Sebastian presses play on the soundtrack and stalks over to walk circles around me, watching as I open my mouth to sing once again. Each breath feels like a blade slicing down the sides of my throat. I make it through the first two parts of the duet flawlessly, pushing through the pain and discomfort, and defying him by allowing the tears to keep falling.
My body is so weak and weary I long to collapse to the floor, but if I did, Sebastian would only drag me to my feet again, the unspoken threat of his belt lying across the lid of the piano. Even though my body is flooded with exhaustion, Sebastian seems to thrive on the lack of sleep. His movements are jilted and skittish, as though there is too much energy contained within him and it needs a way to escape. Rather than his normal slicked-back hairstyle, his hair flops messily over his eyes, giving him an even more boyish appearance. He’s dressed only in his silk pajama pants again, the cuffs of the material tainted with dust from the hours they’ve spent sliding across the floor.
I close my eyes as the song reaches its climax, hoping that this time my voice will hold out and reach the notes demanded of it. I don’t look at the door hoping for a savior, I stopped that hours ago, or days ago. I don’t think of Ryker and hope that somehow he will save me. I don’t cry with desperation, hoping that Cameron, or Sebastian’s mother, or even his father would pop their head through the door and distract Sebastian long enough so I could get a moment to rest.
Three days ago, when we first started to practice, Sebastian was filled with such excitement, proud of the potential he said lay in my voice. But my progress did not come quick enough for him and soon his impatience won over, insisting I sing the song over and over until I could barely stand upright. Only then did he allow me a couple of hours sleep. But he woke me in the middle of the night, dragging me back to the music room and not letting me leave except to use the bathroom.
Once, when I did fall to the ground, Sebastian raised his belt and struck me until I dragged myself back to my feet and sang the song again.
And now, as I let the lyrics fall from my mouth, swallowing the pain, there’s a disconnection between me and the girl standing under the spotlight. Almost as though I’ve floated away and am watching her from afar. Watching the way Sebastian stalks around her with barely controlled rage. Watching the way her face is void of emotion, her mouth opening and closing, forming the words that have become nothing more than muscle memory.
But as the notes rise, my voice cracks and fails once again.
“No!” Sebastian clenches his fists. “You’re not putting enough into it. There’s not enough emotion. Not enough of you.” He juts a finger into my chest then runs the nail upward until it rests against my throat. “Music does not come from this.” The fingers of his hand spread out to embrace my throat, reinforcing his words. “Music comes from the soul.” Trailing his hand down my body, between my breasts, he pushes against the soft flesh of my stomach. “It comes from deep within you. It comes from everything you’ve ever felt. It’s more than words, more than notes. It is life. Breath itself. You must pour every ounce of yourself into it. Music demands everything of you. It will not accept anything less. It will not accept this pathetic attempt you’ve been trying to pass off as talent.” He grips my chin between his fingers, rubbing against the bruises that are already there. “It cannot be fooled with a part of you. I cannot be fooled with a part of you.” His face is so close his breath hits me powerfully, washing over me like acid. “I need all of you.” He takes a few steps back. “Again!”
I sink to my knees, too weary to stand, too weary to consider his reaction. “Sebastian, please.” I flinch when his eyes widen and quickly change my words, never knowing which name I am supposed to call him by. “Maestro, please. I can’t go on. I need to rest. My throat feels raw. I need—”
“Again!” he roars.
I start to shake my head, tears falling to the wooden floor and resting on the boards like dewdrops. “I can’t—”
Sebastian grabs me under my armpits, dragging me to my feet. “Again.” He says it quietly this time, hissed in my ear, his tongue darting out to moisten my neck.
My throat constricts as he leaves me to start the soundtrack again. He walks far away, dragging a seat from the corner of the room and placing it before me, just outside the ring of light, so he’s sitting in the shadows with only the gleam of his eyes visible. I keep my gaze fixed on them as I recite the lyrics, doing my best to relax my throat and sing through the pain. When I near the end, when I reach the part when my voice must lift the highest, Sebastian leans forward, his eyes shining with anticipation. The first note comes out unwaveringly and Sebastian gets to his feet, his body swaying and convulsing in time to the music, urging me to keep going as my voice rises, joining the stars until the final note floats through the air as perfection.
Sebastian pulls me to him, crushing me with his embrace and I collapse into his arms, sobbing both tears and laughter into his bare chest.
“You did it.” He presses a kiss to my scalp. “It was wonderful, so raw, so real. It was beyond perfection.” The last words are ushered from his mouth reverently as he pulls back to look me in the eye. “You are my siren, my angel of music and I just died by your voice.”
I’m sobbing from relief and exhaustion and the million other emotions which are racing through me. Clutching onto Sebastian as though my life depends on it, I press myself into his chest, not caring that it is his cruelty that put me here.
“I can’t wait for her to hear you. She will fall for you just like I have. She will see the beauty inside you and know that I have made the right decision.” He strokes my hair as he talks, more to himself than to me. “You will perform tomorrow. You will sing the song again and you will win her over.”
Even though I hear his words, even though my brain recoils at the thought of singing again so soon, I don’t protest. There’s nothing left within me. I just cling to Sebastian, hoping some of the fire within him will somehow warm my limbs.
Scooping me in his arms, Sebastian cradles me close to his body, walking over to the door and pushing them open with his back as he carries me. He takes the main stairway up the center of the house, not caring that I am naked. Not caring that he is disheveled and dressed only in silk pants. I can barely keep awake. My eyes fall closed repeatedly and I jerk them back open, straining to keep aware of my surroundings.
I catch glimpses of the paintings as we walk down the hall, fragments of the woven map stretched over the dark wood, flashes of the lights set with sporadic regularity. When we stop outside the door to my room, I let my head fall against him, giving up on my efforts to keep my eyes open.
“I’m not even going to ask,” his father’s voice booms through the silence.
My head lifts as though by its own accord from his chest, and I blink, trying to focus my eyes on Senior. But it’s not his eyes I find staring back at me. Instead, they are gray and green and blue, and they burn with denied intensity. Ryker. His head shakes imperceptibly as he warns me not to speak.
Sebastian talks to his father, but I’m unaware of what they discuss as I remain with my eyes fixed on Ryker. His gaze travels over my naked body held against Sebastian’s bare chest. He swallows as he takes in the red welts covering my backside. I want to reach for him. I want to tear myself from Sebastian’s arms and fall into his. The lines over his forehead deepen and he takes a step forward before closing his eyes and willing himself to stop. When he opens them, they are filled with so much unspoken emotion, my tears start again, slipping over my cheeks and falling to my chest. Ryker follows them as his hands clench into fists at his side. And then Sebastian carries me inside and Ryker is gone.
The loss of him is more painful than anything that Sebastian has done. As soon as Sebastian lowers me to the bed, I close my eyes and fall into a fitful sleep filled with the dramatic chords of The Phantom of the Opera and haunted by both Sebastian’s and Ryker’s gaze as I stand naked on a stage, illuminated by a single spotlight.
“Wake up.”
Someone shakes me. I feel as though I’ve only just shut my eyes but someone’s jerking me back awake, shaking my shoulder and whispering in my ear.
“Mia, wake up. It’s me, Daisy.”
I look up through bleary eyes to make out her smile hovering above me. But there’s a sadness to it this time. Almost as though it’s lopsided.
“It’s time to get ready for your performance.”
I sit up, the memory of the last few days washing over me. Lifting my hand to my throat, I clear it, testing its strength. “When?” I ask hoarsely.
Daisy’s eyes widen. “Your voice.”
“It’s just a little tender,” I croak out, unsurprised at the lack of sound coming from my throat. It’s what happens when you are made to sing for hours on end with few breaks.
She leaves my line of vision and knocks on the door. Cameron appears a few moments later. Daisy drags him over to my side, and I grab the blanket, pulling it over my nakedness. He catches a glimpse of my breasts and throws a wink my way, chuckling when I scowl back at him.
“We need a lemon and honey drink and a large bowl of hot water with some eucalyptus and a towel.”
“And where do you expect me to find all that?” Cameron looks down at Daisy, the top of her head only reaching his chest.
“In the kitchen? I don’t know. Go ask someone. She needs something to soothe her throat before she’s supposed to sing. She can barely speak.” She pushes her hands into his chest, attempting to shove him toward the door but he merely laughs at her efforts.
“Okay, okay.” Cameron lifts his hands and takes a step back. “I’ll go see what I can find.” Then he stops midway to the door and scratches his head. “I can’t leave, I’m supposed to guard you.”
Daisy rolls her eyes. “Well call someone else then. I’ve seen Ryker floating around the odd time with Senior, so maybe you could ask him.” Bending down to fluff with the covers of my bed, she casts a sideways glance at him. “Do you know where he went?”
“Who?” Cameron pulls out his phone from his pocket. “Ryker?”
“Yes, Ryker, you idiot. Who else would I be talking about? He vanished for weeks and then he suddenly appears again without a word and takes Iris away. We were just wondering where he went.”
“I don’t think it’s your job to wonder.”
“He took Iris away?” I interrupt their exchange.
Daisy nods, her bottom lip trembling, but then she straightens and places her hands on her hips, pulling her gaze away from me and back to Cameron. “And what exactly do you think my job is?” She walks over to my closet and pulls out my dressing gown, tossing it in my direction.
“Well,” a wicked smile crosses Cameron’s face, “from what I’ve seen,” he steps a little closer to her and she struggles to keep her face from breaking into a grin, “your job entails a little less of this.” He reaches out and flounces the edge of her skirt between his fingers. “And a little more of this.” He brushes his finger over the swell of her breast.
Feigning shock, she slaps him playfully. “Seb would have your hand chopped off if he knew you had touched me.”
Cameron leans close, whispering in her ear. “That’s what makes it so fun.”
She laughs and pushes him away before catching my eye and adjusting her expression into something more serious and nodding toward the mirror. “Take a seat and I’ll start with your makeup. Junior said he wants you to look glorious so glorious you shall look.”
Cameron shifts away as he speaks into the phone, opening the door and slipping back to his stationed position outside.
“And you warned me to be careful,” I say, my voice barely more than a whisper as I catch her eye in the reflection of the mirror.
She tosses her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.”
“It’s just a little harmless fun.”
“But it won’t be if Senior finds out.”
Daisy’s forehead presses into a frown as she dips her fingers into a thick cream. “You won’t tell, will you?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
“Because we haven’t done anything. It’s just a little flirting here and there, you know? Nothing meant by it. It’s just nice to, you know, nice to feel…”
“Normal?” I offer when she falls silent.
She shrugs and begins to plaster the cream over my face.