“Start again from the beginning.”
 
  “But mom, it was only half a step off!”
 
  “I said start again from the beginning.  Do not get sloppy; you will get better, it just takes time.  Also, do not start your sentences with prepositions.”
 
  Allegra turned back to the grand piano and breathed in deeply.  How many times had she had to repeat this one verse?  Ten?  Twenty times?  She stopped keeping track around five.  As her mother had said before, “There ain’t isn’t no any rest for the wicked”.  In the 12 years that she had been alive, Allegra had certainly known no rest.  Her parents, well, her mother at least, made sure to keep her busy with one thing or another.  Her father was a career politician of the Conservative party in the House of Commons, and Allegra never got to spend any quality time with him.  Her mother was a music teacher who made sure her daughter shared her love of classical music.  What both her parents had in common was the desire to raise a perfect daughter, a daughter who was cultured, persistent, and, most importantly, willing to follow in her father’s footsteps. 
 
  It took a few years, but her parents were able to program a routine into Allegra’s impressionable mind.  Every week day, she would wake up at 6 AM sharp, make breakfast for herself, and be showered, dressed, and ready by 7 AM.  After school, she would study until dinner then practice each of her instruments (piano, clarinet, and cello) for 30 minutes each before going to bed.  Of all the rooms in her parents' rich, upper-class home, her favorite was the library.  On weekends when she had nothing better to do, Allegra would spend every waking moment that she wasn't studying or practicing buried in a book.  However, what she wanted most of all was something that could be found well within the boundaries of reality and Oxfordshire.  What she wanted was a friend.
 
  Placing her fingers on the keys, Allegra began to play the opening notes to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata.  Tapping her foot lightly to keep in-time, she pressed lightly on each key, just as her mother had taught her.  It wasn’t long before she came to the part of the movement that had tripped her up all these times.  Concentrating hard, she positioned her fingers to reach that one note, only to slip and press the key a step below it.  Stopping immediately on instinct, Allegra heard the words in her head long before her mother said them.
 
  “Again from the beginning.”
 
  This time, Allegra sighed loudly in frustration and slumped forward.  Promptly, her mother grasped her by the shoulder and dragged her back up.  The patience slipping from her voice, her mother scolded her, “Do not sass me, Allegra Sibellius Asquith!  You will repeat this until you can play it, and you will do so sitting up straight like a civilized human being!”
 
  Brought back in line, Allegra nodded, “I’m sorry, mother.  It won’t happen again.”  At that point, a thought occurred to her that she had almost forgotten.  Turning towards her mother she inquired, “Mother, may I ask a question?”
 
  “You may,” her mother answered.
 
   Allegra hesitated for a second, unsure of how her mother would react.  Finally, she spoke up, “One of my classmates wanted to invite me to a sleep over at her house.  It’s just down the street on the right.  Do I have yours and father’s permission to go?”  She did all she could not to show any sort of emotion that would betray how nervous she felt.
 
  Her mother answered with another question, “Who is this classmate?”
 
  “Her name is Elizabeth Chestminster,” Allegra answered, a smile slowly starting to creep across her face too soon.
 
  “Chestminster?  Absolutely not!” her mother angrily responded.   “Robert Chestminster is a member of the Labor party, and your father and I will not see you with the likes of him!  I will not let him corrupt your mind!”
 
  “But mom!”
 
  “I said no!” her mother yelled, immediately taking Allegra aback.  She had not seen her mother yell since the last time she had thrown a tantrum many years ago.  Turning her eyes down, she breathed in deep and did her best to hold back her tears, “I understand, mother.”
 
  “Good.  Now, start again from the beginning.”

Allegra always woke up at six o’clock, and always to Hans Zimmer.  Her blue-haired roommate once asked why, and her answer was simple:  to the former, it was the time she had always woken up at since she was just a little girl, and to the latter, it was because she hated Hans Zimmer.  Slipping out of bed she turned off the music, and flicked on her bedside lamp.  Her eyes adjusting to the light, she slipped on her bathrobe and slippers, picking her way downstairs through the early-morning light.  Reaching the kitchen, she placed a kettle on the stove and switched it on, reaching into the cupboard for the toaster.  She soon became aware of sounds of movement coming from her roommate’s room.  Strange, Veronica never got up this early.
  About Veronica; she was the one person Allegra hoped never to have as her roommate.  Taking after her father, she applied and was accepted to Cambridge University to pursue a degree in political science.  Not content to live in a small, cramped dormitory, Allegra had scoured the local papers for any place nice near the campus.  The only place she could find that was within her price range and distance was a flat only a few kilometers from the campus.  Calling the number, the phone was answered by a woman who introduced herself as Veronica in an accent that reeked of working-class Manchester.  Rather naively, Allegra decided it was best to put prejudices aside and give this “Veronica” the benefit of a doubt, so she agreed to the terms and packed her bags.  Veronica still giggled every time she brought up the look on Allegra’s face when she opened the door to find a blue-haired Manc DJ with a Tesco in her hand and hardstyle blasting from a nearby stereo system.  Out of options, Allegra had no choice but to settle in.  She stayed in her room the rest of the night.
  Allegra popped two pieces of rye bread into the toaster as Veronica made her way into the kitchen.  “You’re up early,” she said without even turning around.  “I couldn’t sleep,” Veronica replied, “I had this wicked idea for a new beat and but I could never get it right, no matter what I did.  Oh, you’re making breakfast?  Could I trouble you for some coffee?”
  Allegra rolled her eyes and loudly groaned as she heard Veronica once again describe her “song writing”.  Allegra had already made it clear to her roommate that her taste in music was atrocious and uncouth.  Veronica had rubbed it off as a joke, but Allegra was not joking.  She absolutely could not stand these synthetic sounds she often heard coming from Veronica’s room which often times sounded like Beethoven rolling over in his grave.  Every time her roommate turned on her stereo “for inspiration”, Allegra had to close her own door and push her headphones tight against her head to prevent her ear drums from being raped any more than they already had been.
  Recognizing that sigh, Veronica glared at her back, “Oi, I heard that!  Just because it isn’t some posh symphony doesn’t give you the right to act all snooty, yeah!”  Allegra finished pouring a packet of coffee into the coffee machine and turned it on, finally turning to face Veronica.  “It might do you some good to actually listen to something like that.  Who knows, you may actually gain some class.”
  “Piss off!” Veronica retorted angrily, “It may actually do you some good to get laid.  Who knows, you may actually lose some attitude.”
  Allegra’s eyes widened in shock and she stiffened, rather caught off guard.  Veronica would normally brush her insults off, but staying up all night must have killed her cool.  “I beg your pardon?  Do you not remember the last few gentlemen you tried to ‘hook me up’ with?”
  “I knew a few musicians and you all seemed like you would get along, but you snubbed every single one of them!” Veronica replied.  “What was that business, now?”
  “While I appreciated your efforts to find me a companion, I do not need any more drama in my life other than that caused by my studies.”
  “What about that pianist?”
  “He was a psychopath.”
  “In bed, maybe.”
  “What?!  How do you-“.  Allegra was immediately interrupted by a whistle as her kettle came to a boil.  Turning the stove off, she proceeded to pull out a tea cup and packet of english breakfast, “Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”
  “And what about that cute violinist?  You two really seemed to dig each other.”
   Allegra caught the toast as it popped up and placed the slices on a small plate, “If you must know, we both agreed we were taking this relationship too fast and mutually decided to keep things professional.”
  “OH, COME OFF IT!”
  Reaching her breaking point, Allegra set the toast down and turned to glare at Veronica, “In all matter of respect, why must you want to be so involved in my life?!  Don’t you understand I don’t need your help?!”
  Without breaking eye contact, Veronica tonelessly replied, “As your friend, I’m here to help you.”
  Allegra mentally tripped, “E-excuse me?”
  Veronica cocked her eyebrow, “You know, a friend?  Someone who watches your back, yeah?  Don’t tell me you never had one?”
  Allegra turned her attention towards the still-brewing coffee maker.  She was silent for a moment before quietly responding, “I don’t believe I have.  I always rather preferred my own company, and my parents didn’t exactly encourage social behavior.”
  Veronica remained silent for a while before replying, “You know, I’m going to a party at one of my other friend’s house.  You wanna come?”
  Allegra looked back at her and small grin crept across her face, “I may be able to clear my schedule up on that day.”
  Veronica smiled broadly, “Don’t forget to bring that violinist.”