I walk into the building through the snow,  my whole body shivers, and I grip my instrument case tightly, trying to keep the clunky pieces from bumping into my parents new car.

I imagine Max, and how much he would have wanted to come here, and I feel guilty for lying to him. I can tell he believes everything I say, so it was easier for me manipulate him, but it leaves me feeling like I am destroying something we have had for so long, our trust.

I had a reason to do this. I tell myself that as I hurry towards the building. I am protecting him.He will safe at his home,with his parents who have kept him in the dark for so long. Ignorance is safety. It was why he never learned of it himself. I could sense Max Vierra as soon as I saw him that day. I did not know what it was, but I wanted to find out more, because he reminded me of myself.

I knew who he was, completely, more than anyone else in the world. More than my family even. And I have used him. I feel angry at myself for it, but I have used his faith in greatness, his plans, his spirit. He believes that he can do things. He is good no matter what, because that is just the way he is. I am twisted, I think about what I do, I never do the right thing. I always say something wrong, get the wrong look.

But if you think enough and watch enough, You can do anything. Control anyone.

I stand with the conductor in the opposite room, the the lights still shining, but indirectly as we walk onto the platform, my violin raised to start the tuning. It’s easy. You play an A and wait for the rest of the people to play one, move on from string to string.  And you sit down.

I feel the hot lights above my head, my dark cloths taking in the heat, and making me sweat. I can feel it on my forehead, but I hope no one else can see that. From cold to hot, the way it always is at a winter concert.We raise or violin into position to play the first song, my favorite, triumphant and loud, a song that makes your heart beat fast but your concentration is  never broken.

And there is Max in the audience, his face serious. I almost falter, but being first chair and wonderful at what I do, I don’t.

I just worry, my chest full of it, blocking the end of the piece, where I have my solo and play like I feel like normal, but with my mind screaming for Max to leave the room. Because what is going to happen is to dangerous for him to be here.

I would not like to lose my best friend, the absolute center of my other life, my normal life, with homework and time to stomp down a hallway.

I try to feel my solo, my sound, but I don't.  All  I see is Max Vierra, and what will happen to him. I can almost see it happening, my panic rising and falling, yet I let nothing appear on my face.

Then he’s gone. I continue to play, because  if you are good at what you do, you never let people know who you are even if your best friend is gone, and you have a bad feeling where.

The audience cheers and I smile pausing to stare at each face. I watch them. Observation is the key.

You watch the way that people act and you can imitate it.

No matter who you are, if you spend your entire life staring at people, then you can start to change them.

If you spend your entire life studying books and the way authors make them, than you can write. That is Max Vierra, a very literary person, a writer who can change a book from years and years of study.  He is just like me. I know the laws of the real game, he knows the laws of the wonderful one.I was out to go change the game.

The first thing I do when I am finished with the crowd is run to get my coat, kicking off my flats as I go. I can not afford to do what I am planning to do in these.

I ran so fast I almost didn’t even get my socks wet and cold, as I knew they will be soon.

 You shiver, because it is cold and you can’t be perfect.

 I don’t. I run through the  wet snow, my feet freezing slowly.

Why did you have to park so far away?


I finally get there, shoving the key into the lock, plopping into my car. Did I stop? No I did’nt. I am driving away, wondering, why does this always have to happen?

All of the sudden I am angry at Max for coming tonight. He should not have come when I CLEARLY didn't want him to. Why else would I have lied to him? Did he think I lied to him just for the fun of it? If he had stayed away it would have helped me so much. I could have felt myself play the violin tonight.


I pulled up to the van.I know we're your getaway place is you evil buttheads

So cursing my loud car, I jumped out the door and reached into my bulging jacket pocket, pulling out a gun and pointing it at the man's head.

“ Hello Mr. Powell. Get the hell away from my friend.”

“ Why would I? I always wonder why people expect me to do things without reason. There is a huge reason why I do everything, Erin. Why would I want to do as you say?”

“ I HAVE A GUN POINTED AT YOUR HEAD. If you're going to be obnoxious, at least be intelligent.”

“ The two don’t go together.”

“ I don't care. Get away from Max. Why do you even care about Max?”

“ You know. I thought you scolded me for being stupid.” He was right, I did know.

“ Just Urghh!” I feel bad for the boy I am saving,  who after eleven years, barely knows me.

I’m not familiar with saving people. I usually manipulate for me, and me alone. But how to protect an ignorant person? It’s a lot harder than protecting yourself. The fact that they have no self defense mechanism makes them a burden to you and your mission.

I don’t know a thing about protecting someone.

The End

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