“This is nonsense, and nonsense doesn’t belong on my desk, Ms. Scott.” Professor Jennifer Clarke almost spat her coffee on my lyric sheet before shoving it off her table. My songwriting professor has rejected my song for the third time.
I need her to accept my lyrics and give me a passing grade before the holidays because my benefactor, Mr. John Pitch, wants an email report.“Did you think you were Taylor Swift, little girl? Did you think writing too much like her would make me happy? She is already in the business. We don’t need another one.”I lower my head, clenching my fist because I want to shout back so badly. Professor Clarke is a sophisticated woman in her mid-thirties, but she has mood swings like a woman going through menopause. I don’t argue with my professors, but she’s the only one who upsets me to the core.“I understand, professor.”I’m also not the only student going back and forth at her office in the past few weeks, but I’m the last one she hasn’t passed.“You’ve been in this program for over two years! What in the hell is going on with you? But I get it. I get it, okay?” She waves with her manicured fingers. “You can compose. It’s one of the program’s most important majors, but you have two. You signed up for this, so you won’t be able to make it here just by being good enough.”“I understand, professor,” I say again.“I don’t know how or why they would think your composition is music when your songwriting skills deserve an F. It doesn’t have a story or shape. I don’t know where you’re getting at. It sounds like you copied songs from the internet and put them together. But with Maria...”I sigh. I stop listening when she talks about Maria Callahan. I know what’s going on now. Last month, I beat her favorite pet in the composition contest. It’s not like I begged the judges to pick me.“Anya Scott! Are you even paying attention?” she demands.I shake in panic. “Yes, ma’am.”“Then why aren’t you picking up your trash?”My heart sinks. This is when she’s going to tell me to rewrite my song. “I’ll go over everything again and—”“There’s no need. We don’t have time for that, so let’s get this over with. Put that back on my desk.”“What?”“Oh, do you want me to get it for you?”“I’m sorry.” I prevent myself from showing emotions. I bend down and pick up my lyrics sheets. I take it to her desk carefully.She makes a face. “This paper should get an F. But I’m considerate, so I’m giving you a C, but don’t disappoint me again.” She scribbles my grade on the top of the paper and hands it to me. “I mean, I hope you won’t disappoint your new professor. I’m sure you heard the news.”“Yes, professor.”Professor Clarke is moving to the contemporary performance department, and next semester, a new professor will take over the composition and songwriting courses.Professor Julian Sebastian.He was a well-known composer and record producer in Hollywood before he became a professor. His family owned the Sebastian Entertainment Group, a multi-billion-dollar American film studio and a music publisher based in Manhattan. His personal life: he proposed to Stella Pierce, an award-winning singer-songwriter, but they split two years ago. And after that news about him and Stella came out, he left the mainstream and finished his Ph.D. at Yale.I met him once in senior high school. The principal invited him to evaluate those who applied for the John Pitch Scholarship to study music in college. I played Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu as my final piece in the competition, and I was one of his chosen five out of the seventy students who participated.The man is sexy as hell. He is the kind of guy who’ll invade your dreams for a week. I even used his face as an inspiration when I touched myself.“I’ll do my best, professor.”“Don’t try. Just do it.” She rolls her eyes. “Now leave.”I slide my lyric sheet inside my portfolio and scurry out of her office before hearing more insults.I lost my parents in a car accident when I was sixteen, and no one would help me except me. I lied about my age to work part-time jobs to support myself because I was enrolled in a music-focused private high school. I aspired to be a top composer. It was my and my parents’ dream for me. So when I got into college, I worked hard to maintain my scholarship by getting outstanding grades in everything, but this subject gave me a hard time.Why can’t I do it right?A whistle suddenly blows in my face.“Hey!” I step away, but relief floods over me when I see my boyfriend’s handsome face. “Kristoff. You scared me!”He smiles as he runs his fingers through his quiff hair, revealing his deep dimples. My frustration instantly fades with just one look at his face and sterling gray eyes.He looks stunning in his black cashmere sweater and tattered gray jeans today. We’ve been dating for a year, yet seeing his face each day feels like I’m meeting him for the first time.“I’m sorry.” He kisses my forehead and tucks a lock of my brown shoulder-length hair behind my ear. “But what’s the matter, mm?”My shoulders droop. “Professor Clarke.”His brow furrows as he looks up at our professor’s office door. “I can see that. What happened?”I sighed. “She graded me a C.”“Well, welcome to one of the finest music schools in the United States...” says a high-pitched voice from behind us. Looking over my shoulder, I see Maria Callahan’s fake smile and red hair. Her arms are folded across her big boobs.I grumble. “Seriously?”“Yes, seriously. That happens if you are overconfident. My sister suspected you of cheating in the competition.” She refers to Miranda Callahan, a composer, and WSM alumna. She wrote a song for a famous British band as her debut.“Maria. Don’t,” Kristoff growls.“I’m sorry, Kristoff, but you don’t know your girlfriend too well. We don’t even know where she came from or how she ended up in Whitlock.”“What are you trying to suggest that I cheated the admissions, too?” I respond with a sneer. I absolutely can’t believe her.Her tongue clicks. “We know nothing about your family and have no musical experience. That is unusual in Whitlock. We spent tons of hours in exhausting workshops and training just to get in. What about you? What exactly did you do? Tell us because I’m interested.”I give her a smirk. “Maybe it’s because I’m smarter than you?”“Bullshit. Even Kristoff and your friend Lora have notable achievements. You? Nothing.”God. She’s too immature. Maybe that’s why she lost to me.But, damn. From age fifteen, Maria’s known achievements were her music soundtracks for fantasy films. Everyone at WSM acknowledged her, including most professors. How can I compete with that?Kristoff is about to say something, but I move at Maria’s eye level. “Look. If you have any complaints about me, just ask the admissions.” I dare her, but I don’t want her to go there.If she does, she’ll discover that I was accepted because of a scholarship, not because of any noteworthy achievements or special training. It will not be good for me. They tormented Prisha Khan because she was like me. Last year, she dropped out and returned to India.Maria laughs. “Okay. Maybe I asked the wrong question. What did you offer them? After all, most of the school’s directors are... men. See you around, loser.” She stares at me from head to toe with disgust before walking away.“I’d smack that proud face if she were a man,” Kristoff says.“It’s not worth it. Come on.” I grab Kristoff’s hand. My best friend, Lora, is waiting for us at the coffee shop.“She gave me a B plus, but I thought this was the lowest possible grade.” Lora’s bewildered blue-green eyes stare at me. “Yes, and you know I need straight As to keep my scholarship,” I say, sipping my Frappuccino. “I’m sure that your benefactor would understand. It’s not a bad grade,” says Kristoff. “What did she give you?” I ask him. He pauses a moment before answering. “A-plus. Sorry, babe.” “See?” I groan and clench my teeth. “She doesn’t like me.” “Maybe she’s frustrated that Saint Maria still ranks below you in other academics.” Lora munches her muffin. “Saint Maria. That’s hilarious.” I snort a laugh. “But still, number one is the best.” I bump my boyfriend’s shoulder with my fist. “What does it feel like to be always on top?” He grins. “It’s been the same since the first year.” “Cocky.” I slowly exhale the tension building up in my chest, remembering my benefactor. “Okay, but I can’t keep sending Mr. Pitch excuses. It’s likely one of the reasons why he never answers a
“This is amazing, Kristoff!” Lora squeals, her eyes wide-eyed at her surroundings. “This is better than I expected.” The Sebastian family house features contemporary architecture. It is well-lit from the exterior to the interior—with enormous chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, a large event hall just below the twin grand staircases, towering windows, and carpeted pristine marble floors. And the guests are dressed to impress in designer gowns and suits. Lora’s family is well-off too, but seeing how she appreciates fancy social events like this makes me believe the Sebastians are even more impressive. They’ve gathered New York’s wealthiest and most respected people in one place. That’s already something else. Whenever Kristoff and Lora returned to their homes for the holidays, I always spent them alone in the apartment. I had nowhere to go and no one to celebrate with. So I look forward to this year. My friends look stunning in their own designer outfits tonight. Lora is dressed
Kristoff ushers me onto the mansion’s front porch. All around us are snow, a bright moon, and a stunning oceanfront with the sounds of beach waves. It is indeed beautiful.I pivot to speak to him, but he brings his face close and presses his mouth into mine. I let out a groan in surprise. This gives him the opening to slide his tongue into my mouth.Our tongues glide in a slow, sensuous rhythm while he skates his fingers at the nape of my head. My heart beats at a rapid rate. Our breaths speed up, and it’s tempting me to go further. I wrap my arms around his neck.God. I need him right now... Here...But suddenly, he pauses, leaving me hanging.“You look so beautiful tonight,” he mumbles.I grunt in protest. “You’re a bad man, Kristoff.”He gives me a peck on the head and chuckles. “I’m sorry, I can’t help myself. I might not be able to stop.”“I suppose,” I murmur hoarsely. “But I love it here. This place is beautiful. Thank you.”He peers deeply into my eyes. “You don’t know how hap
America rushes over to Kristoff and yanks him back. She shoots me an incredulous look before confronting him. “I’m talking to you, Kris. Don’t ignore me.”“I just did!”Perhaps there isn’t enough time to explain what happened. I don’t keep anything from Kristoff, and what just happened just now was an accident.“Just for now, please. Listen to Mom,” she implores. “Ignoring her right now isn’t such a good idea. She tolerated enough that you brought this girl here.”I grunt. I suppose she’ll keep treating me like I’m trash.Kristoff jerks away from his sister’s grasp. “I won’t come home tonight. Not when everybody is trying to control me. Let’s avoid making a scene, please. We shouldn’t be discussing this here.”“Mr. Cleve and his family will visit us at brunch. It’s embarrassing if you don’t show up,” she asserts.Okay, what is happening? I don’t think I’m following.“I’m not spending Christmas with you. I will spend it with whoever I want to. You are free to leave the party anytime yo
Bewildered, I look up into Professor Sebastian’s face. He’s the man I snatched and kissed in the dark. My gaze lands on his mouth—his soft, plump mouth that touched mine as his fingers fondled the back of my head and lower back. It’s not just in my head. It’s real.But how did he end up right next to me at that precise moment?Stop it, Anya! How could you have known it was him?He’s changed the suit and no longer wears the gold mask.“Really?” Kristoff’s scowl transforms into a beam. “Why didn’t you say so?”God, he shouldn’t be smiling right now.“The professor’s right. I didn’t recognize him,” I clarify, my voice sounding like a sigh.“Actually, I’d like to ask Ms. Scott to a dance,” the professor says.No! “What?”“Ms. Scott. May I?” He extends his hand to me.“Go on,” Kristoff urges, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Maybe you could ask him.”“About what?” He won’t say this if he realizes he is the man I kissed.“What else? About school, of course.”“How about you?”“I’ll be here.
Before the night is over, Kristoff leads me back to the dance floor. I always feel at ease in his arms. The comforting familiarity resonates with me. The tension I felt while dancing with Professor Sebastian had faded. This is much better.“So, what did you talk about? Isn’t he great?”“He is an honorable man.”He smiles with pride. “I told you he is fantastic. Did you get a chance to introduce yourself?”“Yes, but nothing that relates to school. Kris, I don’t feel like discussing my academic credentials at a party. I’ll take that out during class.” I wrap my arms around Kristoff’s neck. He presses me against him as his arms encircle my waist.“What did he say to you? He’s grinning all the time,” he observes with intrigue.“We simply had a brief chat about his family and his eccentricities. I share bits of words of wisdom with him.”“That sounds like Julian to me. I’m glad that he hasn’t changed.”“But is he really so open and transparent? With anyone he just met, specifically.”“Mm.
Over the few days after Christmas through the start of the new semester, my encounter with Professor Sebastian has played repeatedly in my mind. His handsome features, infectious laugh, and charming nature all lingered with me long after our little time together ended. Surely, every Whitlock female student would do anything for a chance to dance with him.Coincidentally, Lora and I were able to have a long conversation with him. My best friend also had a brief dance with him at the party. As I suspected, she mentioned wanting to one day lead an orchestra. Lora thinks he’s fascinating.Right now, Professor Sebastian is looking quite dazzling in his semi-formal attire, albeit he still isn’t a fan of ties, yet he’s even more handsome now that he’s wearing eyeglasses.“This term, I will be your professor for music composition and songwriting. I come from a long line of musicians and artists, which may be new to some of you. As the former Executive Producer and COO, I was in charge of the
By the time the classes are over in the afternoon, the sky is decorated with silvery, bluish-gray snow clouds. The coldness of the breeze permeates my hands. But what the heck, it’s already 6:30! I’ve just arrived at Professor Sebastian’s office.“Just send me a text when you’re done. I’ll just meet up with the guys for quick practice.” Kristoff’s thumb lightly touches my cheek. The ‘guys’ mean the members of his quartet group, and ‘brief’ can often mean an hour.“What do you think the professor will say? I’m late.”“Don’t worry. He already thinks you’re outstanding.” He offers an assured grin.“If you say so.” I return his smile. I feel somewhat relieved. “Are you still coming over?”“I really want to, but Lora...”I laugh. “She’s just messing with you. Let’s watch a movie. I like romcoms.”“Alright, then.” He kisses my forehead. “Even though I like sci-fi.”“Go. I’ll text you.”He winks at me, waves his hand, and walks away.I knock on Professor Sebastian’s door. “Professor? It’s me