Post by sophia madeleine fiske on Apr 2, 2009 22:28:29 GMT -5
keep your eyes open as if love could come ,
as we shifted through this twisted abandon
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Sophia loved the calm of Ireland, though calm was not something to describe the hustle and bustle of Dublin. In its own secluded corner of the city, however, Murphy Academy of the Arts was quiet enough to supply the petite brunette with all the tranquility that she needed. There were constantly people coming and going through the courtyard, sometimes groups of people with particularly loud conversations in the rough Irish brogue, but she didn't really mind it. There was something about the canopy of lush, green trees that blocked out most of the afternoon sun that made everything seem serene. It was under these conditions that Sophie sat, flipping through the brand-spankin'-new pages of music she'd received not twenty minutes before. She loved getting new music; each song was a new adventure, every note a tiny detail that could change the entire outcome of a performance. Music was her entire purpose of being, she was sure of it. Her parents told her that she had been born singing and that she hadn't stopped. Sophie was only four when her parents, the beautiful Helena Vanderbilt-Fiske and the formidable Alexander Fiske, enrolled her daughter in voice lessons. And she had loved every moment of those lessons, babbling on and on to her nanny hours after the young opera singer left about all the pretty notes.
Thirteen years later, Sophia Fiske was still going strong. She was consistently one of the best, if not the best, singers in her class. She had a fantastic, maybe even unbelievable, range that even the best singers in the world would be jealous of. Interacting with her, however, she showed none of the prima donna tendencies that plagued many of the students at Murphy. Though she had been raised in privilege with a diamond-encrusted platinum spoon in her mouth, her behavior did not betray her as the rich trust fund baby that she was. Sophia didn’t view singing as a competition, like so many of her schoolmates did, though she did feel a certain swell of pride when she got better grades or better critique. For a split second, she would rise to a level of egotism that was uncharacteristic of her. The feeling of superiority was something she quelled quickly, because it was not a trait that she particularly admired in anybody, though she tolerated it. Sophia Fiske tolerated a lot of things. She had the patience of a saint that allowed her to be so relaxed and happy all of the time; not much bothered her, and when people did bother her, she just looked the other way or made the best of the situation.
But if there was one thing in the world that she could not stand, it was people disliking her. She was not audacious enough to say that people had to like her, but she preferred it if they did. Having people angry at her gave her a nagging, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach that kept her up at night worrying about what she’d done to offend them. It would not go away until she had gotten to the bottom of the situation and fixed it. That sometimes caused annoyance where there had initially been none. It was a vicious cycle and Sophia could not break free of it. She sought approval everywhere from everyone and couldn’t sleep well until she got it, even though she knew that she could not make everybody happy. It could quite possibly be the death of her one day, going to strange lengths to make sure she was okay with everybody. That would be near impossible, since Sophia was so often in the public eye due to her relationship with the prince. The Prince Taran fan club was first in line as Sophia Fiske haters and there was nothing that she could do to quell their distaste. Her mother had told her that being hated came with the territory of being in the public eye and that she would just have to deal with it if she wanted to be princess of Ireland.
Sophia wasn’t so sure that she did. She loved Taran more than she imagined she ever could have and knew that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, but she hadn’t ever actually thought about what that would entail. Being Princess Sophia would come with perks, of course, but it would also have many drawbacks. Was singing as a profession looked down upon in the royal family? She didn’t know and she hadn’t had the courage to bring the subject up with Taran. It all seemed too distant in the future, yet the future seemed to be heading toward her faster and faster with each passing moment. That scared her.
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status: done.
word count: 797. i think.
lyrics: no doubling back - jason mraz
notes: um. i have no idea what i wrote.
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