"Did you really think that the city was just going to open its arms for you? - Mia voice sounded so sweet, even while telling such a bitter truth.

"I wouldn't used those words. . . But I was definitely not expecting to meet such a bitch who, to make things worse, turned out to be my professor and the most prestigious pianist I ever met in my life. She hates me, I'm telling you, I can feel her eyes on me in every class, waiting for me to do something stupid so she could have the pleasure to destroy my self-esteem a little more."

Mia slowly released her breath, blowing into the phone. "You are so dramatic." - She laughed, and I remembered how good it used to make me feel. I missed her as much as I hate New York's first impression. "Olivia, don't forget your 'whys', your dreams. Things will not be as you want just because its your desire. Giving up is just not an option, not until you really try. Did you try talking to her? Maybe it could help her to have a better second, or even third, impression?"

"What am I supposed to tell her? That I am a country girl and I'm still trying to figure out the city? That's embarrassing and sounds more like an excuse."

"I swear Olivia! You sound like a teenager from a lame movie. I agree that she overreacted, maybe she used you as an example to the class. However, she is right by pointing out that you need to dedicate yourself in order to be a successful pianist. Its not just going to happen because you moved to NY. Annnnnnnnnnnnd......"- She dragged out the 'n', for a suspenseful effect.

"What?!"

She sighed, again, as if she was giving up on me- "And you are, in fact, stubborn. Kudos to her for figuring that out so damn fast."

"You are hilarious . . . HA.HA.HA" - I said, sarcastically -"I don't like her either. Everything just seems like it's too much for me to get over it. I know I should go and try to talk to her, but I just don't want to. She scares me, I feel uncomfortable around her, insecure. I feel like any situation with her will end in my humiliation and misery."

A silence filled our call.

"Do you remember 5th grade, when I was sad my dad left?"

"Of course I do. I use to sit with you in the playground until dawn and you were forced to go back home. Your mom was really depressed and you were scared to be alone with her "

"That was a lie" - Her mellow voice on the other side of the line made my heart skip a beat.

"What do you mean" Confused, I waited until she was ready to talk again.

"I let you think you were helping me. But the truth is . . . . . I . . ." - She breathed deeply.

"Mia, you are starting to freak me out.... you what?"

"My mom was never depressed. In fact, she was pretty happy that dad left. They hated each other for so long, that was the best decision for both."

"Wait.. WHAT? Its impossible, I remember seeing your mom miserable at home, cooking and drinking wine."

"Was she miserable, or just enjoying her time? " - Mia laughed -"You though that was what you were seeing, because you believed in that version of the story. She wasn't drunk, just enjoying her freedom, as she used to tell me."

"Are you telling me all my worries and time was wasted? What the fuck Mia. I didn't sleep for days, thinking about how sad you and your mom were. Why did you lie to me?"

"Technically, I didn't lie. You created that whole theory, and I ..just.. didn't deny it."

"Damn! Mrs. "Technically". I feel so much better now!"

"Olivia. I am sorry. Nobody ever gave me the attention you were giving. I felt loved and noticed."

"Mia... I didn't have any idea, you never told me any of that. You were always surrounded by kids, always so popular."

"No one was a real friend. I don't know why, but its easy for me to talk with people about anything that is not personal. "

"Mia!" Was the only word I was capable of speaking. For so many years I had a different version of her on my mind, as a popular, cool kid, always smiling. - "Why are you telling all this now?"

"My point is . . " She cleared her throat. "You don't know what she is thinking or her reasons for acting as she did. What you know is that you need to fight for your dream, and if she is such an important professor that could help you to become a great pianist... you need to swallow your ego and go talk to her. "

_________#_________

It was Sunday evening when I hang up my call with Mia and decided to go for a walk around Brooklyn. I haven't allowed myself to explore the city at night, frightened by all the news and horrible stories about muggings, assaults, and all the other stuff people warned me about New York.

The lights of the skyline caught my eyes, as a mirage of the stars I used to see in Arizona. It was a cheap imitation, not even close to the peace I used to feel on the mountain. Observing the unknown world portrait by my eyes, I could see the magic in the charming little shop selling hand-made crafts, or the Indian restaurant's inebriating smell of spices and herbs. This was my new life, the one I dreamed for so long, and I was wasting time complaining and worrying.

A soft rain started, bringing with it a comfortable sensation of protection, as if the universe were embracing me. I felt safety, a feeling I haven't had in a while, making me prolong my walk. I wasn't worried about the cold, it was the end of September, after all. The only thing I cared about was maintaining the courage I felt inside my chest at that moment, and not the fear that had being torturing me.

I could see all the lit-up apartments, overhear joyful conversations from the narrow streets. The city was alive, chanting joviality and possibilities. The sound of tires splashing puddles mixed with laughs, rain, voices, made me feel love for this new reality, like I had never felt before. In the past, I fantasized about New York and how my life would be, but now I could taste New York, I could smell it, touch it, live it. It was real, drawing me to an alternative world I have only ever dreamt of having.

As if I wasn't already creating music in my heart, my ears were called to notice an out-of-tune melody. Different from the song played by the city, this new music was calm, trying to invite busy pedestrians to stop and just listen.

"I can't seem to focus and you don't seem to notice. I'm not here. I'm just a mirror"

Her voice was breathy, calling all the hearts to observe. Her fingers played the strings of her acoustic guitar with perfection, creating a strong melody that fit her sure voice in perfect synchronization. It didn't matter that her stage was the grass, under a soft drizzle and cold weather; to me, it was as if she were singing from the stage at Madison Square Garden. Only God knows how many covers I watched her play, but when I came to, I was the only other person standing there.

She began packing up her guitar as I approached her to give a tip.

"I hope you get where you dream." I smiled and started walking towards the direction of my apartment.

"You were the first one to stay to listen to me for so long! I assume you liked it?!" She said staring at me, holding her case on one shoulder, full of stickers with feminists statements and bands I have never heard of before.

I smiled at her and said, "I was just wondering to myself, asking 'what is so good about New York to make me move here', and your music helped me remember that."

Her lips were shaped by red lipstick, longing to meet the dimples on her cheeks, smiling shyly. Not completely understanding why, I liked her reaction, or the effects of my words on her. A warm feeling on my chest made me want to stay in her company a little bit longer.

"How long have you being surviving New York?"

" Hum..... Less than a month?" I laughed, not knowing exactly how much time had passed, but giving her my best guess." Not so long, I guess. but it all just hit me really hard. All this..." I opened my arms, pointing to everything around me.

She just observed me with a sad expression.

"I remember feeling exactly like you."

"Does it means its get better?"

"Hum . . . no, it gets worse . . . much worse" - She said with a ton of irony and condescending voice.

"Should I laugh or cry?" I asked, as a joke. My hands were cold and my feet were really wet, even though I wanted to prolong our conversation, my body was starting to shake.

"See, your body is already giving up." - She started walking towards a traffic light. Confused, I looked to the other direction, where my apartment was, and looked at her, waiting to cross the avenue.

"Are you coming?!" She asked facing the pedestrian sign.

It didn't feel like it was invitation.

The lights from the apartments stopped trembling in the air, all drivers seemed to be lingering for my answer, as if the world stopped to face me. I looked around me and nothing felt familiar, only myself. I have myself as a the starting point for what I want. Following other people's steps was not the answer. I need to find my own path, the road that truly guides me for the best version of my dreams.

She was appealing, almost intriguing, but it seemed to me she was used to siting in the driver seat, and I couldn't be lost on someone's else road.

I turn away from where she were singing, confident that I will find the strength to change all the recent events and become what I had dreamed since a kid: the best pianist. The rain continued to guide my steps, soaking not only my hoodie, but the bitterness of my soul. Familiarized with the coldness, my body jump when it felt a warm hand on its shoulders.

"Geez. You scared me!" I said after turning to see her bending with her hands on top of her knees, breathless.

" You can't be the first one to listen to my fully concert and I don't even have a name for this cute face."

Now it was my turn to be shy. "Olivia", my voice turned out unsteady, my words quavering. A fast beat in my chest made me realize how nervous I was. It was the first time someone seemed so curious about me.

"I'm Tia" - She extended me her hand, that I shook. "So warm" I said by mistake when our skin met. It wasn't my intention, but apparently I always find a way to embarrass myself. She laughed hard and I couldn't resist the urge to laugh with her.

" I was thinking about inviting you to get a beer with me." Her shoulders moved slowly, like a dance move that made her look like this confident girl. "What do you think?"

"That was what you were trying to do back there?" I imitated her attitude with her "are you coming" act at the traffic light. Surprised, her eyes were confused, tilting her head to the side.

"Wait, are you making fun of me?"

She sounded serious, "I didn't mean to offend you." I answered.

She bounced her body slightly hitting my shoulder. "I'm just messing with you."

"You're cute". - 'Fuck', I thought after hearing my own voice messing up one more time. 'What the hell is happening to me?'.

"I'll take that as a yes?" She flipped her hair off her shoulder, looking intensively to my eyes, waiting for something more than just my answer, but I didn't quite understand what.

Losing track of time, I saw myself studying her. Her black jeans were tight, following all her body curves with perfection. Her canvas sneakers had different signatures, that I would assume her friends participate in its design. She was using a shirt with a graphic that said black queen, with different colors, comfortably vesting her body. Her hair was long, in box braids, combined with a red and white twisted knot headband.

She coughed, maybe uncomfortable by my strange attitude.

"I look horrible. Look at me and look at you. Where you in the same rain as I was? Because it seems like it didn't touch you at all. Where as me . . . I looked like a smashed piece of white bread. I don't think I can go to a bar looking like this."

"I don't agree, you look perfectly fine to me. But if that's how you feel, I live pretty close to here, with warm clothes and cold beer."

"Oh." Was the only thing I could say at first. "Hum... we just met... are you inviting a stranger to your house?"

"I can say you are not caring a gun. And judging by the fact that your pants and shirt are pretty soaked on your body, you are not carrying a knife either. So, if you plan on attacking me with your bare hands, I'm pretty confident I can defeat you."

" I can't argue with that. A beer sounds great, Tia".

_______________x_______________

"Wow. You got a scholarship to NYU to study piano? That's amazing. I'm impressed."

"You don't need to sound SO surprised. What did you think I did? Even better. What was your first impression of me?" I teased her.

"Well" - Tia turned her body, swinging her legs onto the couch and laying her head back, facing her ceiling while using her left hand to hold her beer. - " I feel like since we are still together from the moment we met, can I say I'm still building my first impression".

"Geez... BORING". - I yelled at her, throwing a cushion at her legs.

"Fine. Fine. No reason to become violent. Let me see. Judging that you were pretty melodramatic on the rain, listening to me play my guitar for almost 1 hour. All wet and intense." - She giggled. "I would bet you were a failed actor . . . yeah. . . 100%"

"Thank you! That makes me feel so confident to face Professor Molina tomorrow."

Tia moved her body, laying on her left side, her eyes softly staring at me.

"I have met so many professor Molinas in my life, I can tell you. She can't dictate your future, or how talented you are. Maybe her decision or power can give you a hard time, some challenges, but only you can stop your own dreams from becoming real. Listen to me, I have experience."

" How so?" I asked, hugging a pillow, laying on her carpet.

" I never was accepted to a nice university. First, I couldn't afford it. Second, I had a crap education, so scholarships were out of the question. I grew up in Philadelphia, moved to Brooklyn three years ago... just me and my guitar case. I work whenever I can to make ends meet, while auditioning for bands or music gigs. But one day, you will hear my name being announced in a big stage, singing for thousands of people that were there only to see me."

"You are amazing" - I could imagine her as this famous pop star, captivating crowds.

"And cute!" - She said, teasing me. I felt my cheeks getting so hot.

"You are so white that you can't hide any emotion, can you?" She asked. Her smile was charming.

Her sultry voice made my stomach uncomfortable. She bit her bottom lip while slowly leaning in towards me. Our faces were so closed I could feel her warm breath on my skin. Her wood perfume mesmerized me, captivating my senses. I tried to avoid eye contact, but it felt like a force was pulling me toward her light brown eyes, and there we were, looking deeply inside each other's eyes.

It felt like a warm wind was dancing on my spine the moment I noticed her eyes moving away from mine, stopping at my lips. Her fingers put her hair behind her ear, slowly leaning closer. I could swear she was able to hear my heart beat, or see my sweaty skin. The image of our lips touching started populating my head, and suddenly, it was the only thing I could think of.

With our noses almost touching, I closed my eyes as if I was giving up any resistance or logical thoughts asking me to run away.

"Can I kiss you? She whispered on my lips, as if she was already touching them.

The sound of Tia's voice worked like a wakening spell. Abruptly, I got up from the floor and crossed my arms. She followed me, burying both her hands in her jeans pockets.

" I should go. I think I drank too much and tomorrow I really need to make it on time to professor Molina's class." - I ran to the entrance, putting on my shoes.

"Olivia, wait. We should talk." She tried to touch my arm, which took me by surprised. Without thinking, I reacted quickly, leaning away from her. She looked hurt, but I couldn't act differently.

"I am sorry. It's just... I can't . . . Sorry" I opened her door and ran away.

———————

Hey guys!

Sorry I made her run away. I feel like she had a lot going on and needed some time to process.

How was your first crush on a girl?

On my case I was 13 and my classmate was just the cutest girl with big glasses and really shy attitude ☺.

Please, leave comments or concerns about what is good or could be better. I will love to read your feedback ❤