Fingers danced across ivory keys, an intricate waltz only the blonde could coax forth from within the black behemoth of a piano. Unbeknownst to her, the diminutive brunette in the wings was gawking; she couldn’t believe this woman, or her talent!
Why was she not already on the concert circuit?
Why wasn’t she performing for sold out audiences?
Why was she hiding in McKinley?
The blonde’s name left her lips, and somehow, no matter how whispered, the blonde’s concentration shattered.
“What are you doing here, Berry?”
The brunette walked slowly to the piano, as if treading on landmines or cups of the most delicate porcelain. She didn’t want to scare the blonde off.
“Where have you been hiding that, Quinn?” The blonde twitched and growled for Rachel to answer her question. “I came to practice… Now tell me why no one knows about your gift!”
“Lessons,” the blonde huffed. “Since I was three. I hated it, but ever since…” she gestured at her stomach, “It’s helped me to relax. A strange look crawled across the brunette’s face, somewhere between pity, shock, and understanding. “She only ever settled down when I played something for her, and now I won’t settle down until I play anything at all…”
“I…” The blonde looked up at the brunette, who was evidently still in shock.
The silence deafened them.
Then…
“Play me something.”
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