Chapter 2: Maestro
The room was filled with the sweet melody of Chlayderman's "Love Story". The
music has taken up the whole space. The slight breeze rippled out the curtains and
spread the faint smell of daisies all over the room. The blurred light of the sun
seemed to play to the tune, and the tiny particles of dust - vividly seen under the
sunlight - seemed to have turned into stars which transmitted the room to another
galaxy. And all this beauty was complemented by the poetry silhouette of a young
man, whose fingers touched the piano as gently as father's fingers would caress his
daughter's head. He was so charming but if you looked a little bit closer you would
recognize a paradox in him. He was wearing a very friendly and warm smile on his
face, yet his dark brown eyes were as chilly as the moon. His hair was messy, yet
his clothes were extravagantly elegant. He preferred loneliness and always kept
himself to himself, yet all his friends claimed that he had always been the life of the
party. And now, sitting in front of the piano he was immersed in tune. His heart was
filled with mixed feeling of anguish and ecstasy, which carried him farther into
unknown places he had never been before, and you could even descry tears full of
fatique which he could hardly restrain. And suddenly all this mystery was silenced
with a kind and sweet voice, coming from the kitchen
- The table is set! Hurry up, or the tea will cool, honey!
It was his sister, a pretty and slender girl, with golden hair and chocolate-brown
eyes. She was younger than him, but she always took care of him and they both
knew, that without her he wouldn't survive a day. Her voice brought him back to life,
and he reached his hands to the faded cover to close the piano; instead he stared at
it as if he were in love with the instrument and didn't want to leave it. Hurriedly, he
closed it and went to the kitchen.
Lily had made his favourite truffle cake. They sat around the white table, covered
with soft pink cloth. A piece of freshly cooked cake was waiting for him with a cup of
hot tea, the steam of which was complimenting the dizzling smell of the red roses on
the table.
- You look upset, is anything wrong? - Lily asked.
- No, nothing.
- Don't you dare to lie to me, young man!
- Oh, I won't, I will never take such a risk.
- That's right thing to do - Lily said through the laughter.
- The cake is awesome, as always.
- Enjoy it. So, what are you going to do after the concert?
- Come home. It's not the big one, nothing extraordinary is going to happen, I
suppose.
- Come on! Don't be such a pessimist. Every day has something special in it, you
just have to see it.
- And what I am to do to see it?
- Just listen to your heart. It will never let you down.
- You should be a writer.
- Yeap, I definitely should. But you are running late, honey, be quick!
He sipped the last drop of his tea, stood up, hugged Lily, took his bag and went to
the door. Suddenly, almost stepping out of the door, he carelessly said something
into the air.
- You know, I push myself to the limits to make a beautiful piece of music, but
sometimes I forget that the best music is silence.
The words echoed for a while and hushed into a silence.
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