story (rough draft)

Odessa

He was tall and stringy, with rather dainty hands. He had a strong jaw, set in a frown, and beads of sweat dripped down his young face. His ruby red, silk shirt was in good condition, but obviously second hand. He gave a good impression of a man from a rich family, but any well informed maiden could spot the disguise. His light, neatly trimmed hair was strewn with silver, and his formidable olive green eyes were lined in concentration. He was playing a very elaborately painted violin. Silver and gold leaves danced around the old, wooden body, looping joyfully under the strings like silver water drifting under a bridge. The strings were small, and fragile looking, but even as delicate as they looked, they were emitting the sweetest sound I had ever heard.
I looked around un-comfortably in my over-sized, over-weight dress, looking to see if anyone else was feeling un-comfortable. All eyes were focused on the young man’s face. Young ladies were fanning themselves with their lacy fans, and men held their hands clasped in their laps, but their eyes never left his furrowed brow.
“Darling, pay attention. It is not becoming of a woman to stare at others” A soft, hot hand was laid on my shoulder.
I turned to look into the face of my fiancé. He was young, and proper, and everything a woman should wish for in a man, but still, I had my reasons why not to marry him. I nodded, and started fanning myself, with the formerly idol, white, lace fan in my white gloved hand.
I felt puffy, and much too dressed up. I imagined myself to be a giant, multi-layered cake, topped with icing, and sugar. Dressed to the nines, I felt ridiculous, sitting here, and sweating while William told me I was un-proper. William had dragged me to the concert, telling me the whole time that women should be interested in music, and how I was exactly the opposite of what a proper young lady should be.
The last sweet noise of music faded, and applause lit the audience.
The young man seemed pleased, and he lowered his violin to his side, then took a deep bow. “Thank you all for coming” He said in a rich, deep voice. He looked tired, but his voice rang with energy.
“That was splendid” William said softly, standing up. He reached out a hand to pull me up from my seat.
I took it happily. I was eager to get out of the concert hall, and get outside where the cold air could cool my brow. “Yes it was” I paused. “Do you suppose we will ever see the young man again?” I asked, thinking f his charming violin playing.
“Hush darling. It is improper for a woman to speak when not spoken to” William scolded.
I turned away, and pursed my lips. It was always un-becoming of a woman to do anything. How could William just expect me to stand by his side: a useless lump of flesh and blood?
William held out his hand gently, and I placed my own, lacy-gloved hand on top of his, and together we walked out of the hall.
“Good day Mr. Smith” the door man said politly, tipping his hat at us as we walked by.
William smiled. “You see my pet? This is what good money gets you: fine theater seats, and polite ‘hellos’”
I just nodded, biting my overly red lips. I didn’t want to be scolded by him again. Not in front of a door man.
William stepped up into the carriage, and pulled me up along side him. He instructed the carriage driver where to go, and then turned to me, with one of his gentleman’s smiles. “What a lovely show. Did you enjoy it love?”
I nodded my head politely. “It was lovely” I agreed. I turned away from him and frowned. I hated being with him. If my family wasn’t so rich, I wouldn’t have been set up to marry him. I wished that I could have the freedom to chose who I loved, but ladies weren’t allowed to fall in love with just anyone. Ladies were only allowed to love who their parents told them to love. It was so unfair, and I hated the injustice of it.

Charles

I reached out softly to polish the wood of my violin. It was such a delicate little thing, and I feared that one day it would just snap under my fingers.
“Good show lad” The theater owner said merrily, clapping my shoulder. “Made quiet a bit of money” He smiled greedily, showing me a large wad of cash. “And your paying” He said, the smile wiped off his face. He counted out the money quickly, careful not to give me so much as a penny more than he had to.
“Thank you Mr. Benson” I said, stuffing the money down in my pockets. I put the violin back in it’s case carefully, and looked up into the oval mirror placed right at eye level. The theater was generally used for ballet’s, and other theater productions, so the dressing rooms were large, with mirrors lining about every wall.
I pushed my brown-gray hair out of my eyes. I’m not sure why my hair is grey, my friends joked that it’s because I act like a fifty year old, but it’s only a joke.
I straightened my second hand jacket, and stood up, picking the violin case up off the ground. “Thank you for letting me perform” I said formally, shaking Mr. Benson’s hand.

I left the theater and made my way up to a bar to celebrate my success. This had been an excellent day. I figured that buying a drink wouldn’t hurt.

The sun had set, and I was still at the bar. I was talking to one of my good friends, and we were in a heated conversation about politics, when I heard a loud scream. I sat up straight, ridged in my chair. I got up to go see what was happening.
As I exited the bar, I saw a beautiful woman pressed up against a wall. A grubby looking drunk held a rusty knife to her throat.
She looked panicked, but even in her horrified state, her beauty was amazing. Her white skin looked so soft, and delicate, that I wanted to reach out to touch her shoulder, to see if it was really soft. Her rosy pink lips were set in a whimper. Her honey-gold eyes were wide in fear, and her wheat blond curls were slowly coming un-done. “Help” She breathed.
I stepped behind the man holding the knife and pressed my cold metal violin stick against his neck. I supposed that it might feel like a knife, so it was worth a shot.
The man made a surprised sound.
“Go” I said in the most threatening voice I could use.
He scurried off without looking back.
“Thank you for saving me” The woman said, stroking her neck, with long pale hands. “I owe you my life”
“That’s ridiculous” I said, waving her comment away with a gensture. “What’s your name?” I asked.
She smiled with her pearly white teeth. “Odessa” Her voice was honey sweet. “And you are?”
“Charles” I answered quickly. “It’s nice to meet you Odessa.” And at that precise moment I knew that I was falling deeply in love.