CONFRONTATION

The police car came to a screeching stop outside the large house, and out stepped Andrew, flexing his knuckles slightly before slamming the door shut behind him and quickly rushing up the wooden boards before coming to a stop outside the front door. Andrew took a deep breath, readied himself, and knocked as loud as he could. There was honestly something so satisfying about smashing your fists against the door of someone you now hated. Inside came several loud, annoyed voices, and then the door unlocked and opened. In the doorway stood a slightly balding man with blonde hair, dark eyes and a deadly expression on his face. "What?" growled the man impatiently, and Andrew cleared his throat. "I'm here after a…disturbance happened at a university nearby," he said slowly and carefully, and to his surprise, the man started laughing.

"Police have already been here four times and not given a damn…which would make you that pathetic girl's father, now wouldn't it?" the man said gleefully, and Andrew clenched his fists. Pathetic? How dare he. "Look, sir, I'm just dong my job," Andrew murmured, and the man laughed again. "My daughter had every right to be angry after your daughter used her and then dumped her," the man said, chuckling, and Andrew grew furious. "Used her? I don't see how my daughter has used yours, considering your daughter was the one who abused her repeatedly before the fight even started!" Now, the man's face fell, a bitter look possessing his eyes as he glowered at Andrew. The two glared at one another, and then someone stepped up next to the man. "Marcus, come back inside, I'll deal with this," the newcomer murmured, and Marcus nodded, firing another glare at Andrew before disappearing.

Andrew let out a small groan when he saw the newcomer's face. It was Chloe's father, Philip. "What are you doing here?" asked Philip, sighing when he saw Andrew, and Andrew let out a sound of anger. "Your friend's daughter attacked mine today…I just came to give him a little warning." Philip sighed and glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were not being overheard before fully stepping outside and snapping the door shut behind him. "I didn't know about the fight until just an hour ago. I certainly had nothing to do with it, but maybe some sort of agreement can be arranged," Philip suggested. Andrew shrugged and was about to reply, but something hit him hard over the head, making him fall onto one knee, dazed. "What are you doing Livia!" Philip half-shouted as Livia stepped out from behind Andrew and approached Philip.

"Wasn't like you were going to do it,' she growled, and Philip sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Get inside. I'll deal with him. I didn't do anything for a reason." Livia nodded and took a step towards the door, but a hand grabbed her by the shoulder, spun her around, and a fist landed hard against her gut. Livia doubled over in pain, and Andrew shoved her back, watching as she tripped and smashed against the wooden front door loudly. Philip's eyes widened in surprise as he watched Livia sprawl against the door, and he stepped forward, fists clenched slightly. "You need to leave…right now," he hissed, and Andrew spun to face him, his eyes watering slightly as his face grew red with pure rage. "You keep this bitch…. away from my daughter and her friends," Andrew shrieked, his eyes bulging madly as he turned and stormed back to his car.

***

Andrew's car came to a skidding halt outside the mansion, and he leapt out before hurrying over to the front doors, flinging them open and stepping inside. All was quiet. He hadn't realised it was so late until now, but of course everybody would be asleep. He made sure to be quiet as he stepped through the hallways and entered the kitchen, sleep forming in the corners of his eyes as he opened the fridge and picking out a Victoria Bitter. He shut the fridge, opened the bottle and took a swig, the bitter taste burning through his mouth and throat as he gulped. He began walking towards the staircase, the lump on the back of his head making his brain throb painfully. "Up late, aren't you?" came a voice from behind, and Andrew spun on the spot to see who had spoken. It was Luke, hands in his pockets and staring.

"I could say the same to you," Andrew said, nodding his head towards Luke, who took his own Victorian Bitter from the fridge, walked over and sat on the steps beside Andrew, who reluctantly sat down as well. "So, want to tell me what you're doing up?" asked Andrew, and Luke chuckled, "You first." Andrew nodded fairly, shrugged, took another swig and then said, "I went to see Livia's father." Luke raised his eyebrows in surprise, and then took another sip. "How did that go?" Andrew shook his head while smiling, and then he motioned towards Luke, "Ok, you're turn." Luke nodded in response, took a deep breath, and said, "I was actually securing the house in case anyone decides to…. attack us in the middle of the night." Andrew raised his eyebrows, and a sheepish expression came to Luke's face. "Well, I've been securing the place up a little."

Andrew chuckled, reached over, suddenly snatched his hand under Luke's shirt and pulled it back, a loaded shotgun now held. Luke's eyes widened, and Andrew sighed, "Securing the house with weapons?" Luke slowly nodded, and Andrew thrust the shotgun back into Luke's hands. "Want some advice? Don't use those until you're ready to die fighting. If you're not, dump them. No point having weapons around if you're not prepared to face the consequences of your actions," Andrew muttered, and Luke slowly nodded. "What if I am prepared?" he whispered, and Andrew chuckled before taking another sip. "Then God help whoever the hell would want to break in." Luke laughed a little as well, shaking his head as he flicked the safety clip on the shotgun. A distant, high-pitched sound made Andrew look up to the ceiling, a small frown on his face as he tried to work out what was making the noise.

"That's Rachael. She was out last night as well with Jacob, playing her violin," Luke said, and Andrew whipped his head around to him, mouth hanging open slightly. "She still has the violin?" he whispered in shock, and Luke nodded, a small smile on his face. "She polishes it a couple times a week, keeps the strings in check, makes sure the bow isn't falling apart, tends to it." Andrew sucked in his breath, and Luke indicated toward the ceiling. "Well don't just sit there. Move your ass," Luke said, chuckling, and Andrew nodded before rising to his feet and ascending the staircase. He followed the sound of the sweet musical notes to the top floor and to the door, quietly opening it and slipping out into the cool night. It took Andrew several moments to adjust to the black, but when his eyes finally did, he saw his daughter.

She stood on the very edge of the roof, rhythmically sawing her bow up and down against the violin, her fingers gently caressing the strings at the top with a passion Andrew had never seen in anyone before. Andrew took a soft step forward, the sound of his foot against the concrete swallowed by the sound of beautiful music that emitted from Rachael. Her eyes were closed, her back to him as she flowed in time with the music, hair spilling down her back in long waves. Slowly, the piece drew to a close, and Rachael opened her eyes before setting the violin and bow back into the box and shutting it. "What was it called?" asked Andrew curiously, and Rachael jumped in surprise, only just noticing that her father was there. "It's the theme for that old movie, Schindler's List," she replied uncertainly, and Andrew nodded before slowly walking over and outstretching his hand.

"May I?" he asked gently, and slowly Rachael nodded before opening the box, taking out the violin and bow, and then handing them to her father. Andrew settled the violin gently against his shoulder, making sure to tune the strings ever so slightly until he was satisfied, and then he raised the bow. The second the bow met with the strings, music poured out almost uncontrollably, the bow slashing dramatically through the air as note after note soared, Andrew's fingers darting back and forth frantically over the wire-like strings. Rachael watched in amazement, her mouth hanging open in surprise as Andrew stretched out the music, eyes closed in concentration. Minutes passed, and Andrew still made the violin sing. Rachael had never encountered someone else with a similar passion for the violin, so there she stood, eyes wide in amazement as Andrew slowly drew the piece closed and handed the violin back to Rachael. "I never knew you could play!" she exclaimed excitedly, and Andrew laughed, "There's a lot you don't know, sweetie."