I enter my room, still recovering from my conversation with Father. Impa is lying on my bed with a bowl of popcorn, using my laptop to find a movie on Netflix.

"Welcome back," she says when I close the door. As I walk up to the bed she shuts the laptop and looks up at me. "Let's watch a movie downstairs in the home theater. Whatcha in the mood for? Comedy, action... something spooky?" she asks in a ghost voice.

"How about drama," I sigh.

"Oh no." She examines my face and sits up. "What happened?"

How can one put it into words?

"Did he say something dumb again?"

"He... he told me how proud he is to have me as his daughter."

"Really?" Impa raises an eyebrow.

"And then he told me that I will drop biology."

"Wait what? Did he say both these things in one breath because I can totally see it."

I nod, staring past her into nothingness as my conversation with Father plays on repeat in the back of my head.

No, you will no longer be majoring in biology.

"But biology is your passion," Impa emphasizes.

"Indeed," I nod again.

"Then why are you so calm? It's freaking me out. Woah, wait a second. Wait, a, second. Holy shit. Did you tell him no?"

"I did."

You can't do that! my own voice echoes through my memory.

"Really?" Impa nearly bounces off the bed from excitement. "What did you say to him? I want to know the exact words you used."

"I... I told him that he had no right to choose my major for me. Especially since I have received perfect scores exclusively."

"Ohh, nice, what did he say?"

"He said that I got a 92 at a quiz, a quiz that didn't even count toward my final grade, may I add..." The volume of my voice is increasing dramatically.

"And then what?" She scoops some popcorn into her mouth.

"I got upset, so I yelled at him." I stalk back and forth from one side of my room to the other. "I told him that he is a manipulative control freak. I looked him dead in the eye and said: You set me up for failure! We both knew it would be impossible to get a 100 on every assignment. Only I had to cling to the hope that there is a way to make it possible while you were patiently waiting for me to make a mistake. You pressured me into perfection, something that only exists in a figurative sense."

"Yess, get it girl!" Impa applauds.

I punch one of my decorative pillows. That felt good. I take another hit.

"You never cared whether I succeeded in biology," I shout at it. "You just needed a reason to take it away from me. Well congratulations. Your daughter will no longer be wasting her time studying biology because you no longer have a daughter. You have a roommate... Until Tuesday when I turn 18. And then you have nothing. I'll be gone. Find someone else to tyrannize."

The popcorn falls out of Impa's mouth and right back into the bowl as she gapes at me in a frozen state of awe.

"Damn. You said that?"

"No of course not!" I bring my hands up to my face in such a pace that I slap both my cheeks at once. "I couldn't say any of it. So I just said okay."

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I was speechless, okay? I didn't know what to say! My world was caving in and I am glad I didn't pass out on the spot." I think the pure shock is the only thing keeping my tears at bay.

"You did not say "okay". Tell me you didn't just throw your dreams in the trash with a simple "okay"," she cries, throwing her hands at me.

"I didn't throw my dreams in the trash. I have a plan."

"A plan? What plan? How is saying "okay" a plan?"

"Father and I agreed that I should at least finish this semester as a double major. Dropping classes now would look bad on my transcripts."

"So? How is that a plan?"

"Let me finish," I bid. "We still have a little over two months left in the semester. That's enough time to prove to Father that--"

"No, no, no, no," Impa shushes me. "You've already proven yourself a million times. Let's face it, you could be nominated for the best student in the country, in the world even, your dad would not care. He'll continue to find reasons to be dissatisfied. You have to say something or do something or else he'll keep pushing you around."

Her words are harsh but her eyes are full of sympathy.

"You need a better plan, pronto! Moving out wasn't such a bad idea if you ask me. You can move into the dorms," her face lights up. "Hey, it's really not a terrible idea, Zelda. We could be roommates!"

"You already have a roommate," I say confused.

"What?"

"Paya..?"

"Oh, duh, but next semester we could room together. I can switch rooms. Come on, that'd be so fucking perfect!"

"Slow down, I'm trying to study biology without abandoning my father. I don't think he would ever forgive me for leaving."

"You are not the one who needs forgiveness," Impa pouts. "So what's the plan then? You guys agreed to finish the semester as a double major and then in January you will downgrade to political science, correct? But in reality you're hoping he will change his mind if you continue to work your ass off?"

"At least it will give me time to come up with a better idea."

"Zelda open your eyes," she frowns. "Your dad is not going to change his mind. Aren't you at least a little angry?"

"Of course I am, Impa! I am angrier than ever, and I am deeply hurt... and frustrated, and tired. I hate this more than anyone, believe me, I considered breaking one of his weird sculptures from Asia but I am not a hot-heated mess like him. And yes, it would be a hell of a lot easier to just walk out the door and disobey the only family member I have left but I am not giving up on him!"

I take a deep breath to calm myself. "

He's my Father. I have good memories of him and I refuse to run away just because he has a different plan for me. I can do this. I can convince him that political science is not essential for a good career and that becoming a politician and taking over his school doesn't have to be my destiny. He finally sees my effort and is willing to find a compromise. I'm sure there's a way to make it work for both of us."

"For both of you, huh?" She crosses her arms. "What about the rest? What about me? What about Link? Daruk, Urbosa... You barely see us anymore. How do you imagine a relationship with Link if you never get to see him? Or worse, what if your dad finds out about you two and tells you you can't date him anymore? Are you going to say "okay"?"

"No."

"Oh so that's where you draw the line? He can decide over your education but he can't decide who you can date?"

"Impa, don't yell, he is going to hear you."

"So what if he hears me? Wouldn't that be a good thing? You just said you would stand up for yourself if he found out that you're dating Link," she says purposefully loud.

I press my hand against her mouth and pin her down on the mattress. She could probably kick me right off if she wanted to but she decides against it. Though she tries to say something against my palm.

"Shut up," I demand in a whisper. "And stop licking my hand you 3 year old scallywag!"

"Are you done?" I wipe my hand on her shirt and roll off to lay next to her. We lie in silence for no more than three seconds.

"Why now?" she asks, looking at the ceiling with me.

"Why now what?"

"Why do you have to change your major now? Don't tell me it's because of that unofficial 92, I swear, I'll lose it."

"No that's not why... It's my fault really. I told him how stressed out I was... I could tell he cared, I saw it in his eyes. But he thinks the solution for my problems is to rid me of the double major. He missed my point completely."

"And that man has a doctorate?" Impa puffs half a chuckle.

"I can't even blame him because I know he means well. He just doesn't understand the source of my misery."

"Do you?" she tilts her head toward me. "What exactly is the source of your misery?"

"It's many things combined."

"No, it's one thing and you know it. Why can't you just admit that it's him?"

"Because!" I claw my hair and shut my eyes painfully forceful. "What kind of a person would I be if I said it out loud? What kind of a Father would he be if I admitted that he is..."

I can't do this. I don't want to think about him like that. He is trying. I just have to find a way to articulate myself properly.

"Can we please talk about anything else," I beg her.

"Fine," she gives in, not supporting but tolerating my denial. "I don't want to upset you, I just care about your dreams too, you know?"

"No, I know... But I can't handle this tonight. I just want to lie in bed and not waste another thought on the matter."

"Whatever Your Highness desires," Impa says with the smile I needed.

✤ ✤ ✤

Monday afternoon I am the first to leave the gym. The coach made me the goalkeeper but I was so distracted that I let Malice score five points. I keep thinking about a way to change Father's mind but so far I've come up with nothing. On top of that I haven't spoken to Link in two days.

I'm okay with that. Every time I look at him I am just reminded of his skills and popularity, and how he handles himself so well while I am falling apart under Father's dictatorship. And as if that wasn't bad enough I keep thinking about Mipha. I don't like feeling insecure, not after everything Link has done for me, so I have to find a way to convince myself that Mipha's love is unrequited before I spend time with either of them.

I'm supposed to meet Pik at the library in ten minutes to study for our astronomy exam but now it seems pointless. If I am not going to study biology, why bother to get that perfect score?

No, that's not me... I want to keep my good grades, I just don't like the thought of doing it for Father.

Right as I want to leave the locker room, Malice walks in.

"You look like you're in a hurry," she sneers.

"Don't test me, Malice. Not today," I warn her.

"Aw, somebody's a bit moody."

"The only reason you should be talking to me is to thank me. I didn't report your boyfriend for cutting Link's arm. Ganon could get arrested and expelled."

"He doesn't go to school here."

"Doesn't matter. He's a criminal. And while I keep wondering why you would volunteer to date such a violent and abusive person, it doesn't really surprise me."

"You don't know the first thing about him," she defends the man who beats her.

"No, and I honestly don't want to know him."

"Like your boyfriend is perfect. Oh wait, I forgot, you don't have one. But then again, it's not so lonely within your castle walls after all, is it? Don't think for a second I'm forgetting about your little secret."

I push past her and leave but she follows me down the hallway.

"What? No comeback? Scared I'll share your relationship with the world?" she says.

"It's ironic that you feel threatened by some hypothetical relationship when you already have your perfect, misogynistic fairytale prince. You are his epitome of a modern Elizabeth Bàthory. Now you can rule the underworld together. A match made in hell."

"I have no clue who that is and I don't feel threatened by you. I feel sorry for you because you still don't see it."

"See what?" I play along with her little game and regret it instantly.

"That Link is too good for you. He's a generous man as I'm sure you know. But not a very social guy. So why does he talk to you? Because you're a charity case to him. He pities you."

I would like to slap her across the face but starting a fight with an MMA fighter is not a smart move. When I don't participate in any further insult exchanges we go our separate ways. It's so hard to feel bad for her when she continuously tests my composure.

After grabbing two sodas from one of the vending machines I head to the library. Pik is already waiting at one of the desks. His face lights up when I take a seat next to him and hand him the canned Fanta.

"How colorful is the world today?" He asks me with a smile. My confused pause drives him to clarify; "How are you today?"

"Oh," I reflect on the day and answer, "It's not a rainbow but it's not black and white?"

"In other words: You are doing fine."

"I am," I return a smile. "Ready to teach me facts involving hydrostatic equilibrium and helium fusion reactions utterly irrelevant to my major?"

"Born ready. But let's study somewhere else today."

"Where?" I arch my brows.

"Don't worry, it's on campus. And it's super quiet and private."

Private I like. I'm already on edge because I expect Father to catch me with a boy in the library. Which wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't a walking canvas. Pik being a tutor is something not even I myself would believe with his dyed hair and tongue piercing.

I follow him to the arts building until we stop in front of a tall, black door that I am too familiar with. The white letters read Backstage. Pik unlocks the door and steps inside the dark area.

"This is where you want to study?" I ask him, following him behind the curtain and onto the stage.

"Why not? There is no rehearsal today and I have the keys, so nobody will bother us," he turns on the spotlight, but only one, leaving the countless rows of empty chairs in darkness. Then he takes a seat at the edge of the stage, facing where the audience would sit. I take a seat next to him, trying to adjust to the foreign feeling of the stage and the warm light raining down on us.

"It's so quiet," I feel the need to whisper.

"Yes, places like these are rarely so peaceful," he says, full of admiration.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I decide to check the notification before turning it off for our study session.

*You okay? You seem quiet today* from Link. I appreciate the irony of him calling me quiet. It's sweet that he checks if I'm okay though.

Pik didn't mean to look at my screen but he saw Link's message and is giving it his best to respect my privacy by looking the other way. I can tell that Link's name on my screen annoyed him so I put my phone away after replying to the text with a quick thumbs up

"How come you have a key to the auditorium?" I ask Pik to distract him from Link.

"I'm a TA, I work for the producer, so she gave me a spare key in case I needed to lead a rehearsal or open the doors for the stage crew when she's off campus."

"You're a TA, a lead in a play, and an honors student?" I say astonished.

"I'm a man of many talents," he boasts.

"Is that so? Impress me then," I playfully challenge.

"You don't have to tell me twice." He cracks his knuckles and smirks at me. "Let's see... I completed my Bachelors of music and piano performance three years ago at the age of 20, now I'm a grad student pursuing my masters of art and music education. That allows me to lead the orchestra as their conductor, so I get to choose the music, the tempo, and add my own twists to the pieces. I also get to sing most of the solos in our choir which is a privilege given that there is a guy far more talented than me. I kid you not, that guy, Kass, he's a fantastic singer with a divine gift for the accordion. Granted, I taught him most of it, but still, at some point he'll steal my spotlight. Do I keep going or do you need a minute to process all this awesomeness?"

"I was definitely impressed by the brief modesty that slipped through your brag," I tease. "But anybody can tell a good tale. I will believe you once I see it."

"You would have seen it long ago had you come to my gig in August," he reminds me, his smile never fading. "But why see it when you can hear it instead? Close your eyes, let me play something for you."

"Wait, I don't think--'' I start but he's already steering for the black grand piano on the carpet between the stage and the audience. "What if somebody hears it? There's no way these walls are that sound proof."

"Don't worry, I've got it covered."

"How?"

"Come here, I'll show you."

Hesitantly, I get up and walk over to the piano half lit by the lone light.

"Have a seat," he requests but I don't know if it's such a good idea to sit by the piano with him. "Don't overthink it," he adds as if he was able to read my mind.

I sit down next to him on the slim black stool, overthinking every step of the process.

"Now close your eyes."

"Pik--"

"Don't," he interrupts gently. "Don't overthink it."

I close my eyes with a sigh.

"How many times have I told you not to worry, and how many of those times did you actually let go?" He asks rhetorically. "I know you have a mountain of challenges waiting to be conquered, but just for this one moment I want you to detach yourself from your problems. Whether or not somebody else hears the piano won't matter once you let go."

The room turns dead silent for a few seconds and I can hear my own heartbeat drumming in my chest as Pik exhales slowly. His foot finds the pedal and his fingers the keys. Softly, notes begin to play and music fills the vast space.

The opening is gentle and pianissimo, like that of Chopin's Nocturne No. 20 in C-sharp and I can hear Pik's emotions flowing into the music as his hands glide delicately over the keys. Goosebumps rise with the volume and I am rather curious as to why I don't recognize this piece. It's not Mozart and certainly not Beethoven.

Eyes still shut, filigrees begin to fill the darkness before me. Elements of Ludovico Einaudi are present but Pik plays it more like Yiruma. The tempo increases and the room fills with color. I open my eyes to watch his fingers fly over the keys in a lively and spirited fashion. This piece is telling a story, a story with a heartbreaking beginning that is turning into something merry and light. Optimism and hope are transcribed by these notes. My fingers thirst to play along. I haven't touched a piano in a long time and found joy in it all the less often. Pik is giving me a different insight into music. One that doesn't feel forced or dictated.

My eyes climb up his arms to look at his profile. He looks like a different person when he is playing the piano, wearing the same expression he does on stage.

Before the piece is over, his fingers halt and abruptly stop the music. He turns to look at me. I blush, embarrassed that he caught me staring at the side of his face.

"What made you stop?" I ask.

"I haven't finished writing it yet," he laughs carefree.

"You composed this piece?"

"Obviously. You told me to impress you. If I played another artist's music, wouldn't the praise go to them? Besides, I wasn't sure which pianist you admired the most, so I thought it wise to choose myself."

"Wise indeed, over the years I have come to dislike the classics. 30 hours a week of practicing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata 3rd movement will do that to you."

"You practice 30 hours a week?" he gapes at me.

"Not anymore. I stopped playing a few years ago after I failed an audition."

"Sorry to hear that. Do you still play though?"

"Sometimes. Not so much lately."

"I saw your fingers itching for a moment there. They want to feel the music, better not disappoint them," he nods at the piano, gesturing to me to play.

"I couldn't."

"Really?" He takes my hands into his warm touch without a warning and examines each finger closely. "Looks to me like your hands are in perfect condition."

"I mean, we should be studying," I remind both of us. It's incredible how his music made me forget all about the pile of problems waiting for me.

"I'll make you a deal," Pik brings his hands back to the piano. "If you recognize this piece, you have to play along. If you don't, we'll go back to studying."

Before I can agree or decline he is already playing the next piece. My expectations were broad, from Für Elise to Preludes to Fantasie-Impromptu to any of the famous classical pieces, but Elvis Presley? Now that I didn't see coming.

"Recognize it?" the corner of his mouth curls into a smile.

"Yes but I don't know the notes."

"Trust your ears."

As he plays the melody on the lower end, I focus on the lyrics on the higher keys. I really have to guess which key to press but the notes align with those I have in mind.

His voice begins to sing softly in perfect harmony to the music. "Wise men say, only fools rush in." My fingers freeze but he keeps the melody alive.

"Detach yourself from your worries," he whispers to me, his eyes following his fingers.

I turn my head back at the piano and do as he says. Our elbows stroke each other and our fingers come close to touching.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin," my heart sinks deeper with each word that falls so heavenly from his lips, "if I can't help falling in love with you?"

My stomach flutters and I think about Link...

Hearing those words... Link is whom my mind escapes to. And eager to follow, my heart throws itself against my rib cage, hoping to break free.

The realization shocks me. What am I doing playing the piano with Pik? I should be with Link. Despite the guilt I feel for sitting here so close to my mentor, I find comfort in it, knowing that Link may have felt the same when he was all alone with Mipha. Perhaps he thought about me too.

"Pik," I breathe timorous, my hands retreating.

The music seizes unhurried and Pik's head turns to look at me. The soft light flickers in his grey eyes as his never-dying smile grows faintly.

"It's just a song," he assures me but there is a part of me that doesn't believe him. That part he clearly sees, and more empathy flows through his bright eyes. Sitting so close to him I tell myself not to look at his lips and end up doing just that. Curse my brain. I look back up at his eyes, hoping he didn't notice it.

"What makes you so nervous?" he asks tenderly.

"I'm not nervous," I lie.

"I heard it in the way you played. Your notes were tense and your heart was divided. Were you thinking about your grades?"

"No."

"Were you thinking about your Father?"

"No..."

"Then what is it?"

"It's you," I admit shyly.

"Why do I make you nervous?" his eyes fall to my lips and settle there.

My head turns the other way, determined to stay that way. "This is exactly why. You're flirting with me when you know that we can't."

"I'm drawn to disagree. First of all, we can flirt, we just shouldn't." I roll my eyes at him. "Secondly, I don't flirt with you. I appreciate your beauty, but I haven't made any effort to seduce you. I just wanted you to relax your mind for a few minutes and allow yourself to feel free. And you did. For the duration of a mere song. Is that so wrong of me?"

Feeling defeated, I remain silent.

"Let's study, shall we? We have a big exam tomorrow." He gets up and returns to our stacks of books.