Snow drifted down in front of my eyes. Flakes landed in my hair looking as though it was dandruff. Central Park was deserted unlike usual. I knew Christmas would be hard considering I was away from my parents for the first time. I had been excited for my spot at Julliard. Little did I know at the time my roommate would be so uptight and depressed. My blue Eskimo jacket was no match for the cold seeping through my skin. I needed warmth. New York City was bound to have a coffee shop near the park. I spotted a cozy looking Starbucks. I got my favorite, white chocolate mocha. Immediately I felt soothed.
I wanted to go back to my dorm, but to me that was now a forbidden place; instead, I went to a practice room on campus. As soon as I touched the gorgeous grand piano, my heartbeat quickened. Fingertips lightly caressed the keys as I began to play. It was like a flood gate opened. Sadness crushed my heart. I poured out the horrible feels from the suicide of my newest friend, my roommate, Emilia.
A long brown curl fell from its resting place atop my head. Someone-else's hand brushed it behind my ear. A strong tenor voice joined my expert playing. His voice was like that of an angel touching my eardrums. I turned to see Bentley. Bentley, tall and lean, hovered behind me. His muscular arms moved with the flow of the music as he bellowed the song he had wrote for me. "Sapphir's Song" is what he called it. I fell into his awaiting arms and cried like a little girl. Mascara ruined and eyeshadow smudged eyes looked into his electric blue ones as he said, "It's going to be okay, I promise."
