Read A-Muse :: My Phone | Tapas Community

===Canan===

I want my phone back.

I can't even begin to comprehend the thought process of forgetting your own phone not to mention the lack of realizing the phone you have isn't even your phone. How do you go half a day not even glancing at it. Due to the negligence of her own belongings and the password on her phone I had to wait until after my class to use my office phone to call her.

I lean in my chair to peer out the glass window of my office, I happen to see a group of women sitting in the art buildings courtyard, they're always on their phones waiting for me to leave the room. And just as I had anticipated they're on their phones even now. I lean forward again and release a sigh clicking the power button to the phone in my hand. The screen cover is a picture of the phones owner sitting on an ancient theater's steps with eight other girls who look similar in age smiling from ear to ear. There's tourist in the background but the girls in the picture seem unfazed that their photo was photobombed.

I glance at the time, it's already six o'clock. This girl needs to hurry she's wasting my time when I have places I need to be.

There's a knock on my door and I quickly stand up hoping it's the girl but instead it's just one of my students.

"Professor," She starts.

I can't even remember her name but I know she doesn't truly care about music theory, either that or her horrendous grade is a result of to many tasks on her plate. Based off of the way she was looking at me it seemed it was the first one.

"Yes," I say as kindly as I can possibly muster.

She batts her lashes and then steps into my office slowly closing the door.

Im getting nervous or I just find every person a pervert trying to attack me. "How may I help you?" I say trying to hear if she truly has a valid reason for being here.

"I was curious if there was extra credit that I could perform to better my grade."

Valid.

"Im glad you ask." I answer beginning to rumage through my desk.

She begins to step closer but I don't allow her to close the gap as I start handing her piles of papers. "You can begin with an essay on the contents we've learned this semester in music theory then you can create a time line of when music first emerged-"

"Well actually," She leans both hands on the arms of my chair trapping me. "I was hoping for something thats more on the physical side."

Sudenly the door swings opens and it's the girl. Talk about timing.

She seems stunned first then glances at me then the phone on the desk. She smirks but it holds so much disgust that it's obvious what she's thinking.

"Hi," she forces. "Sorry I''ll just-" she lets herself out then comes back. "I'll just-" She drops my phone on the desk and takes her own before closing the door again.

That was awkward.

I suck a breath in before I speak. "Okay, I'm giving you thirty seconds to leave my office or I'm reporting you for academic integrity violations"

She stands straight. "Professor Foster, that's unfair you're the art dean."

"And you decided to step into my office and belittle my belief in my own grading system not to mention my morals." I stand up to my full height. "So I suggest you leave now." I glare.

She frowns then looks to be on the verge of tears before turning away and running out. I let out a long sigh then glance at my phone that was now sitting on the corner of my desk. Should I be worried that the girl who had my phone might spread rumors. Well I've never seen her in the music departmant so perhaps not. I take a slow breath and look at the time, it's six thirty now. I have to leave right away to get across town.

I close up my office as quickly as I can and then gather my breif case along with my phone making sure it is in fact mine. Who knows maybe the girl was a far wosre air head then I thought and switched the phones again.

I quickly hurry across campus to my car in the parking lot doing my best to avoid the eyes of possible students or faculty. They all wanted to talk to me. Never ending talks of just nothing, typically just random topics to keep a conversation with me but today I saw a new face that I wish I saw more often. Disgust.

That girl was disgusted with me or at least my attitude. I had seen the way her brunette hair had fallen across her eyes as she stared at me, like she was stunned at first. Taken aback by my handsome face, which yes I was highly aware was attractive but as soon as I began to scold her that curiousity and awe melted away replaced with revulsion not to mention the fact that she mimikced me when she thought I was out of ear shot.

Don't get me wrong I still hated her sass and would have put her in her place had I not been in a hurry to get to my class which I was fifteen minutes late for. It was just refreshing to see that expression of the face of a young person

The only times I got reactions like those was when men saw me as a threat to whoever they were desperatley trying to get the attention of.

I arrive to my car unscathed by the curious eyes that watched me leave the campus.

I know that I am handsome, I had been told that all my life, I was even a child star and model but those were my mothers aspirations. Mine was music. I had a deep love and profound feeling for music. It had all started with the four string violin at the age of thirteen. After that I felt that I could create beautiful things that weren't me. I could make something greater than myself. So I came to learn more then thirty different instruments along with all the musical styles I coould possibly learn in the past twenty years.

I take a breath as I reach my destination and make a turn into the facility I had been hoping to be part of for some time now but due to my need to teach and sustain my life through work I had to put it off until now. It was the city's performing arts center and I was finally going to have a chance to join the orchestra just as I always wanted.

I pull into the parking lot and park my car as quickly as I can. I rush out of the vehicle like its on fire and then hurry up the stone steps to the entrance of the facility. I pull the golden handle on the glass door and enter the luxurious newley renovared center. Chandliers of crystals hang down from the high ceiling and twinkle in the light of the evening sun.

I can hear the soft chatter of people setting up along with the gentle tuning of a few instruments. Primarily I hear a harp whose player is tuning each string with meticulous precision.

I head toward the sound of the performers and through the red upolstrey double doors leading to the main stage. There on the stage there is a dozen people setting up chairs and large instrument.

I feel a bit awakward now as I realize I should have entered the facility through the back stage doors and hallways but I was already here and I might as well continue down just as I planned. I notice a figure standing at the end of aisle way I was walking down and a very familiar girl who appeared to be asking a question about the sheet music. She gives a small nod and a lock of her brunette hair falls over her face. She pushes it back as I slow my walk and then she turns away heading back onto the stage to a seat next to the huge golden harp.

I can't believe it at first but as if to doubt me she grabs the huge instrument and plucks a string. With a professional ear she can hear the slight sharpness and with an even more precise move of her hands she grabs her tuning wrench from her music stand and adjusts her harp's string. She places it down and plays a couple melodic and beatiful chords which only prove to me more she's a professional. She grins soft and gentle as she gives the man who I can now tell is the conductor a thumbs up which he nods to. Then she sees me and her grin fades to disbelief.

For the first time since meeting her in the afternoon, our feelings are mutual.