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Love is not an open door.
Love is not a game.
Love is not a fairytale.
When the game of love leaves seventeen year old Serena Waltz heartbroken, betrayed and almost dead, life offers her another chance to begin again.
But under one fat...
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A year ago...
"Why do you always have to play that god damn song! My ears are hurting!"
I complained for the nth time. But Peter(my dad) pretended not to hear. He went on playing the grand piano in the living room.
I was furious at him.
"Will you ever stop that?" I asked him, rather forcefully.
Suddenly, he stopped.
Then he looked straight at me, his hazel eyes glimmering. "What's the matter with you Koala? You always loved my song," he exclaimed.
"I used to like it, but now I don't." I repeated, disgusted.
Peter heaved a sigh.
"I thought you were happy to hear me play."
I stared at him.
"Then you better stop that. Or else I won't be happy again." I said.
It was super disgusting to even keep a piano in our house. But dad insisted that playing the piano was his passion of life. Yet for me hearing music all day; at school, at home, at midnight, on weekends, made me want to throw up.
Music made all this mess.
So I hated Music.
***
Later that night, I suddenly woke up from my sleep. Glancing at the clock in frustration, I realized that it was 12.36 am. Annoyed, I tried to sleep again.
But something was bothering me.
It was a peculiar yet a familiar sound coming from outside the bedroom. It was a lullaby that my mother taught me to fall asleep once I wake up in the middle of the night. But no one was singing it. Only the melody sang itself.
Oh. It was the piano.
Adrenaline gushed through me. My hands trembled hard. I couldn't be hearing that haunting sound, I told myself.
Determined to end the person who was playing that Hellish instrument, I found myself tiptoeing the living room.
To my surprise, I found a brown haired girl less than my age, playing the piano.
Her back was turned at me concealing half of her face.
