Since you all were so intrigued by my first installment of my Skrillex fanfiction, I thought I’d bless everyone with the second chapter. To set the scene: Skrillex and I are going to one of Hy’s “acclaimed concerts.” Jasper (a second love interest) is still a horrible person. Quinn (my best friend) is a poet, and I don’t remember why he’s mentioned here. For that, you can make up your own reason, and creativity is encouraged! Any objectionable grammar is compliments of my 13-year-old self.
“Oh, Hy, you’ll do absolutely marvelous, I know it! Brighton hall will be even more so with you playing!”
Hy turned from the car window.
“Thank you, darling, but empty flattery will do no good to either you or me.” Hy patted her gloved hand.
“Are you accusing me? Of empty flattery?” Her voice began to climb, “I’m just trying to make you less nervous!”
Hy sighed. “Izzie, I am not nervous because of the crowd. I’ve played hundreds like this.” Izzie snatched her hand away, leaning against the old leather seats.
“Why are you nervous, then? Ever since Quinn’s debut party you have been acting strange: distant and jittery.”
Hy began to bite at his nails.
She pressed onwards.
“Well, what are you worried about? Is it because of all the important critics there? No, I know, it’s because of the stage! Yes, isn’t this the one with the failing lights? I’ll have a quick word with the manager about that.”
Hy slammed his palm on the car door. “Enough, girl! Quit your blabbering and hold your tongue! I’ve had enough of this nonsense, I don’t need any of your sympathy!”
The car screeched to a halt in front of the glittering hall, less welcome as it had been before.
Izzie sat in shock. Blinking twice, she managed a quiet apology before burying her face in a pale yellow shawl.
Hy swallowed. Extracting himself from the awfully tight auto, he stalked up the grand steps.
He didn’t mean to hurt her.
After, the driver gasped at his own incompetence and hurried over to her door, bowing as he opened.
“I am quite sorry, miss. You may deduct my intrusion on your personal business from my pay, I did not mean to overhear.”
Izzie quickly wiped her cheeks, and blew into a handkerchief. Smiling, she took the driver’s hand.
“It’s quite alright. I should probably pay you now, since I will most likely be returning alone.”
Accepting her tip, the man sped off, leaving her alone under the flickering street lamp.
Jasper pulled up in front of the large hall, wondering why he had even attended this performance in the first place. He did not particularly like Hy Moon, nor did he care for his music.
He turned towards the girl in the silken peach gown, struggling to climb the marble steps.
Jasper chuckled, “Need a hand, lady fair?”
Lifting the train of the gown, he helped her over the final few steps.
“Now I am glad I came, you look absolutely stunning!”
Izzie grinned, wiping the corners of her eyes. “Oh Jasper. It’s good to see you, really. I was so hoping I didn’t have to sit alone in there.”
Jasper halted. “Dear, are you feeling alright? Your eyes…They are slightly swollen.”
He reached for his coat, draping the deep green velvet around her shoulders. “Catching a cold won’t exactly help your recovery.”
Offering his arm, the two made their way to the top balcony overlooking the stage. Jasper called over the waiter, demanding a salad with no more than two olives, which resulted in Jasper’s giggle when he thought they looked like eyes.
Izzie looked over at Jasper. “Thank you,” she smiled. “Really, thank you. Things almost seem normal.”
Jasper glanced down “normal, you say?” His hand reached for hers.
She nodded “I miss home. I miss you and Quinn. Having you here, comforting me like a good brother would, it almost takes me back.”
She could not be sure, but his body shuddered slightly before relaxing again.
Jasper’s hand dropped as the curtains rose.
Waving a baton, Hy began smashing buttons, cueing robots with violins, kettle drums, pianos, any instrument known to man intertwining expertly.
The critics nodded. Nothing short of the best.
Except, out of the corner of his eye, Hy saw her head swaying to the music, but not alone.
A second head mimicked its movement; taller, darker. Their eyes locked, and Hy froze. Only for a moment, but enough for his heart to drop through the floor.
The music shuddered, the critics’ heads snapping up. Hy recovered, but the damage had been done.
The audience applauded as per usual, but many had sat, dumbfounded.
The great Hy moon, the perfectionist, had made a mistake.
Hy quietly excused himself from any interviews, desperately searching for her.