Chapter 13 Gabriel
New York City
It was early, barely four a.m. and Buffy was in Richard’s hall, searching for the auditorium. The long, dark hallway was just a little creepy with only a dim, yellow backlight flickering on and off at each end of the hall. The steady thudding of footsteps seemed to echo through the empty building as she tentatively felt her way along the cemented walls.
Being in the deserted building thrilled Buffy. The only sounds she could hear were the soft squeaking of her shoes against the newly shined linoleum tiles and the nearly undetectable buzz of the faltering light overhead. She shivered a little uneasily at the thought of being all alone in a humongous building. But, at the same time, she felt oddly comfortable – more so than whenever she was in the company of other people. Lately, she had been craving and welcoming solitude, enjoying the few moments that she had to herself to let her mind wander off on its own. Life hadn’t been easy for her and she could hardly afford the minute or two of quiet contemplation that she needed. Aside from the classes she was taking, looking for a job, and spending time with friends, there was really no extra time left.
So she allowed herself to take the quiet moment for granted. Her mind started to drift to thoughts that she had been determined to keep off her mind.
Her hand grazed along the cold, metal door that lead to one of Julliard’s biggest performance halls and she pushed herself against it. It grunted, then gave way to her body weight, letting her slip inside to the backstage.
The musty scent of boxes and old furniture hit her and she was now engulfed in total darkness. Her hand groped the wall for a light switch. She found one and flipped it up, causing a faint sliver of light to shine through the long, narrow slit in the center of the heavy, velvet curtains. Walking slowly and carefully as to not trip over the metal fold-up chairs that were left half-hazardly placed in her way, she made her way towards the flowing cloth backdrop to push her way through. The layers of red rustled and easily moved to the side at her gentle nudge and she stepped onto the stage, gasping at the sight before her.
There was only a single row of lights hanging from the high ceiling and it cast a dim glow over the wooden stage and the first few rows of red, velvet seats. A shimmer of light tumbled delicately over the lid of a polished grand piano waiting for her at the center of the stage. The white sheen seemed to dance across it’s ebony color, beckoning her closer.
She marveled at the feel of standing on the stage, staring out into the breathtaking blackness of the empty audience. The vast array of vacant chairs lined up like expectant tin soldiers thrilled her and she drowned in their promise of excitement beyond measure.
The piano was a Steinway. Nothing but the best, of course. It was polished and shined, yet it’s apparent age was comforting and it warmed her. It smiled gently and invited her to run her little, nimble fingers over its keys and to make it play the music that it was built to produce. She lifted the cover over the keys and jumped a little when the soft thud reverberated down the spacious auditorium, surprising her. The eerie emptiness amplified any sound she made and responded to her every movement, echoing the squeaks of protest from the unoiled bench as she adjusted it.
The first note sliced through the silence like a swift bullet, making the entire auditorium ripple like a small coin tossed in an undisturbed lake. It overwhelmed the quiet stillness as it rang out, filling the hall completely as it spilled into the deepest nook and the farthest cranny. The warm, liquid melody following it flowed languidly from the beautiful, old instrument and Richard’s Hall was no longer a quiet, old, deserted building. The night swiftly became early morning as the first drops of music illuminated Manhattan, calling forth the faint yellow hints of sunlight.
……
Gabriel was certain that he was the only occupant in the building. Then why in his mother’s name was he hearing the transparent ghost of a melody coming from the Dane A. Richard’s Performance Hall above?
A little intrigued and a little put off by the interruption of his daily quiet time, he stood up from the couch that he had been sitting on and stretched. He sighed as he trudged up the old, cracked, cement steps to head towards the auditorium, ready to kick out whoever had decided to enter before the building was officially open. That’s what I get for forgetting to lock up…
He paused by the entrance of the auditorium and rested his hands on the door’s handle. Whoever was in there was definitely talented. The music was flawless; the passages were played with easy clarity and there was power behind each note. Gabriel pressed his ear to the door. There was something about the bittersweet tune that had caught his attention, and it wasn’t the pianist’s perfect technique.
Careful not to make a sound, he eased the door open as quietly as possible and slipped into the dark, behind all the rows of seats. He looked up towards the stage and his breath was knocked out of him at the sight of a small, blonde girl sitting at the piano on the stage.
She didn’t hear him come in – if she did, she made a good impression of ignoring him. Gabriel widened his eyes and held in a gasp as he watched the blonde haired beauty close her eyes and tilt her head as the melody became more bitter than sweet. No doubt about it, this girl was an angel.
Never in his life had he ever been so mesmerized by a single female such as he was right now. He basked in her presence and for once in his life, was happy that a girl didn’t notice him. There was something beautiful in the simple movements of her body over the piano oblivious to anybody else, something breathtaking about her unreserved grace.
Her blonde hair gleamed under the thin, white haze of the stage light. It cascaded down her shoulders in loose tendrils, falling over her shoulders freely. She wore was dressed comfortably in a simple white t-shirt over jeans and still, he was captivated by her. Stunned, he didn’t move a muscle until the very last chord.
Buffy put her hands on her lap and sighed, contented. Making music always lifted her up no matter how low she had fallen. She looked around, certain that somewhere in the middle of her playing, she had heard the door open but she wasn’t sure if her mind had just made it up. When she was greeted with the open darkness of a silent audience, she returned her eyes to the white and black keys in front of her.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she suddenly heard a muffled, coughing sound that rang out from the emptiness in the direction of the back beyond the sea of velvet seats. Snapping her head up in alarm, she caught the muted outline of a moving form emerging from the center aisle. Quickly, she stood up, clutching the piano for support. A man slowly appeared before her, materializing from the cloud of blackness into the mezzanine.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, backing up, “I didn’t know anybody was in here and I wasn’t sure if I could –“
“Don’t worry about it,” he cut her off with a smile. Buffy stared at him. He was tall with dark, mussed-up hair and transparent blue eyes which were silently fixated on her. Intense, blue eyes that reminded her of the deep blue of another man from long ago. His blue jeans were tattered and old and he wore a wrinkled, white shirt that looked they had been slept in. She began to relax as he continued to regard her curiously with a friendly face and a casual smile.
“Uh, well,” she quickly closed the lid of the piano and shoved her hands in her pockets. “I have a lesson with Professor Walsh in- ” she glanced at the thin, silver watch on her wrist, “- four hours and I was just going to hang here, check the piano out, I didn’t know if the place was open and if it wasn’t I’m really sorry and I didn’t mean to break in or anything... But, if you, uh, want me to leave or if I’m not allowed here I can definitely go. Yeah, I’ll, just, uh, go. Look at me. Haha.. uh, I’m all about the leaving, so I’ll just uh,.. go back from where I came from and, ugh, I know I must be rambling and you probably think I’m a complete loser and … I’m done.”
Gabriel felt like laughing as he took in her face, blushing in embarrassment, and he strolled up to her until he was at the edge of the stage.
“It’s fine. My fault, I forgot to lock up. You don’t have to leave. Stay.”
“Thanks,” she dropped back down onto the bench. The man was now running his hands through his hair and looking away, suddenly seeming nervous – another familiar gesture. I wonder what he’s doing here so early… “I’m Buffy.” she announced, giving him an overtly bright smile.
“What’s a buffy?” he asked, blue eyes back on her and smiling again. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh.
“My name,” she explained, raising her eyebrows in amusement. “Buffy Summers.”
“Oh!” his eyes widened a little. Just a little embarrassing… “Hello, Buffy Summers. I’m Emmanuel Alfred Gabriel Walsh the fifth, Manny to my mother, Emmanuel to my grandparents, Gabe to everyone who has a death wish, and Gabriel to all my friends.” He relaxed in a sloppy grin and held up a hand to her.
“How about Alfred?” Buffy grinned back and stooped down to take his hand in hers. His face contorted in mock disgust and he wrinkled his nose.
“Okay, I lied, Alfred’s not really part of my name,” he confessed. She raised her eyebrows and he added, “Neither is the fifth, I just thought it sounded cool. Make me all important. It’s just Gabriel. Or Emmanuel if you’re over fifty.”
“Gabriel’s pretty,” she giggled. He dramatically clutched his chest at her words and fell back into a seat in the first row.
“You wound me!”
“Aren’t you going to say something about my name?”
“Nah, I already asked you what a Buffy was so I guess I’ll let your name be for now.”
“Well, you certainly are the gentleman,” she teased. She liked him. Instinctively, she knew he wasn’t a student, maybe it was the way he dressed or the way he carried himself. Nevertheless, she found herself instantly attracted to the crinkles at the side of his eyes when he smiled and she liked the relaxing air about him. This man, she decided, … this man would be the best kind of friend for her.
“That’s what they tell me,” he agreed. “So,… a lesson with Professor Walsh, eh? She’s my mother, so I may just have to tell her to be extra extra hard on you.”
“Hey!”
She adamantly protested but she couldn’t erase the airy feeling from her head that was making her dizzy. A feeling she hadn’t felt in a long while.
It felt good.
A/N: I'm hope most of you will be happy with this new development... This is still a Spuffy fic and i doubt any of you will hate Gabriel, my new character, as much as you guys dislike Riley/Parker/Angel.
Anyways... if i told you that in my mind, Gabriel looks a LOT like Tom Welling... mmmmmm
And i know i overlooked the fact that most buildings on campus would probably have security of some kind... i kinda forgot about that until after the chapter was written.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Okay, i've never actually been to Julliard. I'm am a pianist though and i based my description off of a music school that i had a summer camp at a few summers ago. So any Julliard students... i'm just making the halls up and the descriptions up for the sake of the story.