Reckless Abandon

That night, I heard the roar of an engine and the ring of my doorbell. I didn’t answer it. When I opened my apartment door the next morning I noticed a purple rose taped to my front door. Purple: Enchantment. I wonder what my song would have been.

On Tuesday, I sat on the chesterfield and thought about the last ten months of my life. Leah is right. A lot did change after I met Asher. As much as I hate what he did, he helped me overcome some of my fears. My fear of speed, my fear of playing music and most importantly, he made me feel. Even if that feeling became anger in the end, it was pure emotion running through me.

That night, I ignored the knock on the door and cursed Mattie for being the one who is probably letting Asher into the building. When I heard the engine roar off in the distance, I open the door to see another rose taped to it. Fuchsia: Appreciation.

Yesterday, I spent my third and final day locked in the house looking through every photo album I own. I looked at pictures of Leah, Luke, and I through the years. I opened scrapbooks my mom created for me of every recital program, newspaper clipping, and accomplishment I every enjoyed. I surprised myself at how nice it felt to look at everything I accomplished. Instead of looking through my memories for contempt of what I lost, I looked on with feelings of joy and a renewed vow to be great again. Maybe not in music, but in something else. I accomplished so much and I’m only twenty-five. Imagine what I can do in twenty-five more years?

Last night’s rose was red.

Today is Thanksgiving. I didn’t go home for the holiday. The banquet for the Juliette Academy is this weekend and the quick turnaround for holiday travel is too much. Plus, Leah and Adam’s wedding is in two weeks. I’ll be home for that.

Instead of eating my mom’s turkey and dad’s famous stuffing, I am spending the day doing something I have been wanting to do since arriving in New York. I am going to explore the city.

All by myself, dressed up and ready for my date of one, I hop on the subway and trek uptown to Lincoln Center to see Yo-Yo Ma perform with the New York Philharmonic. Since I only needed one, I was easily able to get a ticket to the almost sold-out show online.

Walking through Lincoln Center, I feel the old giddiness I used to get as a kid going to see a performance. I walk through the elegant buildings, taking in the sights. I’ve been here before with my parents and once for a competition, but tonight it feels different.

It is just as amazing as I dreamed. I have listened to Yo-Yo Ma’s music and seen him play on YouTube, but never live.

When the performance is over I walk across the street and grab dinner at Café Fiorello. While eating, I scroll through my phone and order more tickets for this weekend. Tomorrow, I am going to the opera. Saturday, I am going to see a Broadway matinee and then the ballet. And on Sunday I am going to watch Allyce play my violin in the park. I call my parents for the holiday and spend an exorbitant amount of time telling my mom about the concert and the school and the city . . .

By the time the waiter comes with my check, I have a weekend of the arts fully booked and my mom and I are laughing and talking, she is completely neglecting her holiday company.

And when I get home I have a beautiful bouquet of mixed wild flowers waiting for me outside my door. Once I am securely inside my apartment I hear the familiar sound of a motorcycle rumble down the street. I may have a new sense of purpose but my feelings for Alexander Asher have not changed.

What they are, exactly, is up for debate.





My stiletto heel sinks in the lush carpeting of the Starlight Roof at the Waldorf-Astoria. This is my first New York City event and so far it is as visually stunning as anything I could have dreamed up.

The landmark hotel banquet room has a gilded ceiling of art deco design, illuminated by Austrian crystal chandeliers. In front of a wall of windows is a thirteen-piece band on a stage, surrounded by banquet tables. In the middle is a dance floor of black and white design.

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