Disclaimer/AN: It should go without saying that I do not own anything regarding Mozart in the Jungle, and that I am merely a fan writing a story inspired by the show.

Prologue

Montana

"Hai-Lai... Why the oboe?"

And then comes the pause. And then the chuckling. His amusement at himself makes her smile. She can't help but smile and think of him, even though he is miles away in New York City, or God knows where else, and she is wrapped up in blankets in the mountains of Montana. The tape ends, and Hailey leaves the headphones on, remembering that day in his dimly lit office when she heard the recording for the first time. She wonders if he knows she kept it.

She's been in Montana with Erik and his friends for two weeks, and shit, it has been a welcome break from New York and the city and the symphony and, most importantly, the drama. Right now, she doesn't have to think about the strike, about Betty's blackmailing, about Rodrigo, about the way her heart rate increases exponentially whenever she's around him, about the feeling of their lips touching...

"Fuck it," she whispers, and throws the headphones off.

You're supposed to be relaxing, she tells herself. Having a good time with a cute boy who genuinely likes you. Whom you can like back...without a scandal. Stop listening to that damn tape all the time and get out there and go have fun!

She sighs and stretches out her limbs. Enough thinking about what's back in New York. It's time to enjoy herself.

Erik's head pops into the room, just peeking past the doorway, an award-winning smile on his face. "Hailey! You ready to ditch the PJs and hit up the slopes?"

She smiles wide and jumps out of her woolen blanket cocoon with enthusiasm. "Hell yeah!"

She takes his outstretched hand and leaves her conflicted thoughts behind.

New York City

He can't help but feel a little hurt about her leaving. She gets to run off and leave the mess of the symphony behind, and he is stuck in New York City, trying and failing not to think about the strike. But, she is a grown woman, and her own person, and she has plenty of time on her hands, and she has been working so hard...

Then Rodrigo's grip tightens on his handlebars.

But when she returns, she'll just turn around and leave again. And this time, it won't be with some young, harmless, well-to-do man and his car from the future. No, when she leaves again, she'll be on tour with a much older, predatory man who would love nothing more than to slip it in again.

Rodrigo lets out a primal yell of frustration and pedals faster.

She is smart enough to know what to do, he thinks. She said she would not have sex with him. Remind yourself of that.

But she already has once, not that she knows that he knows that, and that alone is enough to make Rodrigo worry. And feel jealous. Not that he would ever admit it. Not to himself, and especially not to Hailey.

Through his anger creeps up guilt. He should not be so angry. This is a good opportunity for her. She gets to travel again. She gets to play her oboe with a professional. She gets to do what she loves. And that's all she ever wanted, isn't it?

He sighs and slows to a stop. Amidst the crowds and their hustle and bustle, he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, his face turned up to sky.

The chirping of his cellphone interrupts his meditation, bringing him back to the rush of the real world. Hailey's name appears on the screen.

"Hai-Lai?" he answers, surprised at her phone call.

She sniffles on the other end.

"Hai-Lai," he repeats, sounding concerned and confused.

She clears her throat and speaks softly. "Rodrigo, I need your help."

"Yes, Hai-Lai. Anything. What do you need?"

He hears her take a deep breath. "Can you get me from the airport?"

The request shocks Rodrigo. The airport? Why is she coming back to New York? Has there been an accident? Is she okay? All these questions he wants to ask, but the desperation in her voice alerts him that now is not the time for questions.

"Of course, Hai-Lai. Let me know what time to be there and I will be there."