An ecstatic crowd clapped continuously, for they had just experienced an incredible performance by a mere 10 year old boy. The final notes still reverberated off the walls of the enormous concert hall, and the boy’s fingers still hung in the air. Slowly, he moved his hands to wipe the sweat off his brow, taking careful consideration to not set his gaze on the audience to his right. He sat for a moment, in front of a jet-black grand piano, taking shallow breaths after a stressful performance. The crowd’s applause slowly died down, but the aura of admiration could still be felt throughout the hall. To the crowd, it was rare to see a 10 year old boy put on a performance on the level of a professional, much less while wearing a solid black suit with a white buttoned-up tuxedo shirt underneath. Everyone was happy to simply witness such a once in a lifetime event, with countless smiles rising upon the faces of every person in the room. All except for the lone performer, who slowly rose from his chair and walked off the stage. He could only feel hollow after such a performance, for he was trapped in a ruthless world that seemed to exist solely to limit his freedom of expression.
-Two weeks before the performance-
Alexander was not a normal child. He often described himself as a “pale, frail, male”, as he was relatively thin, with skin that reflected light like a full moon. His curly, black hair sprawled onto his shoulders, with his face having just enough definition to where you could not see the shape of the skull beneath his skin. His arms were as thin as sticks, with his hands and fingers being long, dangly needles. While as thin as he was, he didn’t lack the strength to strike the keys of his keyboard in order to produce a strong, clear sound. He was also smart enough, and socially aware enough, to realize that he was seen as strange by other children his age, so he preferred to stay inside his house and play music.
As he sat anywhere in his house, he would periodically fiddle with his keyboard, practicing the music he was going to play for his big upcoming performance. He preferred playing his keyboard over playing on a regular grand piano as he felt the keyboard allowed him a bit more freedom in terms of sound. One of the biggest goals he wanted to work towards with his music was to create a song which could properly express his emotions, mainly capturing the feeling of inadequacy he felt on a nearly daily basis. But for now, he was stuck working on the same song over and over again, Clair de Lune by Debussy. In his opinion, while it was a beautiful song to listen to and play, it was the fact that it had been played countless times over the many decades since it was written. All, if not most, classical pieces were played constantly over and over by a variety of different musicians across the world, and Alexander wanted to create something new for the classical musical audience to enjoy.
As time went on, less and less people seemed to enjoy the wonders of classical music, and would move on to listen to modern pop or rock. Slowly, the stability of being able to play classical music for a living reached an all time low, and Alexander believed that if he created new music, perhaps even more beautiful than the classical pieces of the past, then maybe people would be interested in supporting classical music again. But of course, this was merely seen as a hopeless endeavor by many currently famous classical musicians, so Alexander mainly kept this dream to himself as to not lose out hope, as the 10 year old believed that they just simply didn’t have enough faith in their music in order for things to work out. This was America, where it seemed like any crazy idea could work so long as you were passionate enough.
“Practicing again, hmmm?” his mother asked while walking up behind him.
His mother was a standard American beauty, with long golden hair and a fairly thin frame. She was always in a dress or skirt, showing off her long legs for her relatively average stature. She continued her commentary while Alexander still practiced various chords on the piano.
“It’s great to see you so passionate about something. But, to be honest, I get kind of lonely when both you and your father get this way.”
Her eyes slowly shifted towards the wall, in the direction of another room. Her arms ever so slightly pushed into her torso, with her entire body slowly fidgeting. Even as a 10 year old, Alexander understood the emotions felt by his mother, as he had come to know the way his father worked very well. So he decided to set aside his keyboard for now and spend time with his mom, slowly standing up while he talked to her.
“I’ll spend time with you mom, you know how dad is. He probably won’t be out for at least another hour.”
A look of sadness washed over her for a split second, before a bright smile and radiant aura washed over her face.
“Yes, we’ll do something fun together to pass the time!” She happily exclaimed while clapping her hands together.
An hour later, both Alexander and his mom were sitting in front of a stack of newspapers spread out across their kitchen table, cutting out every kind of coupon they could find. While most coupons were digital nowadays, there were still some hidden among the articles of local newspapers. Alexander’s mother worked for the local grocery store, so she had pretty much free reign to grab all of the newspapers she wanted, but it didn’t really matter as the physical newspaper business was dying off faster than the classical music industry. Since Alexander’s father wasn’t making a whole lot of money through his work, Alexander would often work with his mother in order to find various ways to save money around the house, eventually becoming so routine that it was seen as a way of having fun. As both Alexander and his mother sat silently at the table, his mother spoke up, clearly bored of the silence.
“How is the music for the performance coming along?” She asked.
“Good.” Alexander replied
His mother puffed her cheeks and narrowed her eyes, pouting at the fact that she had gotten such a simplistic response. She decided to badger Alexander with various indirect comments in order to grab his attention.
“Humph. You’d think a house full of musicians wouldn’t be so quiet.” She commented. After darting her eyes toward her son. The only response she received was the scream of the thin newspaper as Alexander made clean, precise cuts using his tiny kid safety scissors.
“You know, this makes a good lesson to learn Alex, that passion doesn’t pay the bills. We might be doing alright, but I believe that is only because I have sacrificed my dreams in order to chase stability for my family.” She boldly proclaimed, slowly rising as she held her hand close to her chest, as if she were saluting herself. Alexander knew she was right, so he had no room to argue, but he finally spoke up to give his opinions.
“Sure it doesn’t do much in terms of money, but music fulfills me. I wouldn’t be happy if I was unable to make music. Since music is my dream, does that mean you giving up on your dreams means that you are unhappy with your life?” Alexander replied, slowly setting down his scissors and rising from his seat. His mother stood, shocked at his claim of basic logic and reasoning.
“Of course I am happy with my life.” She said with a sincere smile and a hint of regret in her eyes. “I love you and your father, even if he is a bit distant. He cares for both of us, even if he gets carried away with his work. But I believe that all the time he puts into his music is for our sake, trying to show the world that he is capable of succeeding with his passion for music.”
“In reflecting upon her own life, she started to justify the actions of my father. Is this how married people act?” Alexander thought. Just when he was about to leave the room to go back to his keyboard and practice, Alexander heard loud booming footsteps smacking against a hard wooden floor. His whole body tensed up as he slowly looked towards the doorway of the distant kitchen. It was none other than his father, a rare sight to behold. He is just over six feet tall, allowing him to tower over both Alexander and his mother, though his frame was still thin. He always looked like a cross between tired and severely ill, with his skin seemingly plastered to his bones, and his black hair in a constant scraggly mess. He was dressed in a long overcoat and hard soled shoes, which to Alexander was very confusing since he almost never left the house. His small, beady eyes quickly scanned the room, falling upon Alexander himself.
“So, are you done practicing for today?” His father asked in a deep, raspy voice.
“No, I was just about to go back to my keyboard after helping mom.” Alexander replied.
“Good.” His father replied
Alexander quickly hustled out of the room to get back to practicing for his performance. One week later, Alexander had started to master his song for the performance, as well as nearly completing his own first original piece of music. Alexander wanted to write music that strayed from the old classical pieces of music, and he felt that his new song, which to him seemed like a sort of jazz-like piece, inspired by the recent wave in new age jazz in the 21st century. Alexander felt confident about his work, but knew that his father wouldn’t necessarily approve of it, so he practiced his new piece in secret. Not even his mother knew about this music which Alexander had written. As Alexander practiced his classical piece in the living of the house, gently swaying to the music in order to get a sense of the emotions rushing through it, a long, dark shadow blocked the light in front of Alexander. There stood his father, with an imposing, menacing aura about him. He stared at Alexander for a few seconds, as if seriously considering his next words very carefully for his son.
“It sounds good, good enough to be ready for the piano.” His father commented.
“I think I would like to stick with my keyboard for the performance, I am more used to the feeling of it.” Alexander replied.
His father’s expression instantly soured, and although he had already made the mistake of showing his disgust through his face, he made sure that both his words and tone of voice did not contain any malice, as he believed Alexander would be too young to catch onto his true feelings. He instead tried to explain the situation in a very simple manner in order to change his son’s mind.
“This is a very important performance, a lot of music publishers searching for new talent will be there, so it would be best if you put on a distinguished performance, as not only your music, but your looks convey certain expectations to the audience.” He explained.
Alexander thought for a moment, and decided to respond with his true feelings on the situation.
“I know this is a very important performance, which is why I want to feel as true to myself as I possibly can. I believe that if I can show my creativity to everyone in the audience through the beauty of music, then they will surely see I am a great musician regardless of what I look like or what I play that music on.” Alexander stated. He looked up at his father, but could not see his thin face. Only a dark shadow and the reflection of the pitiful light on both of his eyes could be seen out of his entire face.
“Blind optimism can only go so far.” His father stated, before exiting the room. His tone of voice was cold, completely devoid of any emotion which perhaps reflected his rage.
“How could he be so serious about music? It only matters to me so much because of my love for it, but he seems trapped by his own feelings for music” Alexander thought. He truly did care for music, but he seemed lost recently. Alexander believed that his father wanted him to be more like he was, and fit in with the rest of the world, struggling alongside all of the other classical musicians. Alexander looked down at his keyboard.
“In that sense, father is like the white keys on the piano, perfectly aligning with one another and always creating a stable sound, but not being able to explore the possibilities of music.” Alexander whispered to himself. With that logic, Alexander associated himself more with the black keys on the piano. Though they were unstable, separate, and didn’t fit in both sound and physical shape, when combined with the sounds of the white keys, they could create endless possibilities for the future of music. With that in mind, Alexander continued to work on both of his pieces of music, in hopes to impress everyone at the big performance next week, and make his father believe that you can be successful with new, experimental music.
The day of the performance had finally arrived, and Alexander stood ready behind the curtain of a stage. Through the curtain, Alexander saw a grand piano set neatly on the stage, no doubt arranged by his father. It was long, sleek, and jet-black, with a large black cushioned seat positioned in front of the keys. The piano was set on a freshly polished, wooden floor stage, which was showered with overhead lights coming from the opposite side of the performance hall. The hall itself was vast, with two floors of audience seating. Every single seat was filled with people anticipating the big performance, with most being company representatives and such for various music publishing companies and various other fields. Alexander thought this was odd, since he was the only one performing at this concert.
“Isn’t it astounding, I called in more than a few favors for this performance.”
The words uttered by his father’s deep, cold voice sent shivers down Alexander’s spine. Alexander suddenly felt nervous as he was reminded of the faith his father had put in him for this performance. Would his father be upset with his decision to play his own music at this performance? Alexander let that nervousness seep into his expression.
“Come now, there is no need to be nervous, play your peace for these important men and women, and show that you are very talented. Show them that the way you play your music is brimming with emotion and unrivaled passion, and may it bring a new wave of listeners to the classical genre.”
“Play my piece? Brimming with Emotion?” Alexander thought. While he couldn’t understand entirely what his father meant, getting the unnerving feeling that he misheard him, Alexander knew this was the time he needed to show not only this audience, but his own father the path forward. Alexander looked over the entire audience and had a single thought in his mind, “Maybe I can make him understand that we must push for a new era, by pouring my heart and soul into performing my own song”.
He turned around to take one last look at his father, but his father had disappeared while Alexander was deep in thought. However, this did not make Alexander sad as he felt he could now focus on the future, as within the next hour, he knew he would be able to change his life, and maybe even the world forever. He walked out from behind the curtain on the side of the stage, and made his way towards the grand piano, with the sea of audience members to his right. Alexander took one last glance at the audience, and noticed his mother sitting in the front row right in front of the stage. She was in a tight red dress, and had a huge smile on her face. Alexander faced forward, trying to keep a straight face as he got closer and closer to the piano. Finally, he sat down on the cushioned seat in front of the piano, with the seat gently creaking underneath him, like the weight of expectations had made him feel heavier.
The audience was completely silent, waiting for the song to be played, and Alexander started to drip with sweat. If he played his new song, would anyone actually enjoy it? In front of a crowd of important people, and his father, he couldn’t bring himself to start the chords to his new song. Under the stress, his hands started to move on their own, in the practiced motion of his Clair de Lune piano solo. His heart did not want to play the song, but his body was forced into the movements under the pressure, and slowly but surely, he started the first notes of the song.
For the next 5 minutes, the soft piano sounds slowly drifted throughout the entire performance hall. The piano almost seemed to be playing itself, with Alexander simply along for the ride. It only felt this way because only half of his mind was focused on the music, and the other half only thought about how he needed to change the song. But no matter what he tried, he could not stop his hands. He kept moving, notes kept playing, strings kept vibrating. At a certain point, Alexander’s mind had gone completely blank. No longer could he even feel his own body, as one by one, the keys, the air, the clothes on his back, seemed to disappear. It was as though he had lost his sense of touch, then his sense of sight, his taste, his smell, and finally, his hearing. But he could still feel the music, reverberating throughout his entire body, haunting him. No longer were the notes simple plucks or twangs, but now almost felt like they were taking a physical shape, and looking down upon him. After what felt like a century, the song finally came to a close with Alexander’s right index finger sleeping on the final note. With the conclusion of the song, his senses finally came back to him, and what assaulted his entire being was a wave of applause from the audience. He did not feel like he deserved the praise, as he had not poured any emotion into the song, but he still stood up as if on command, and bowed. In the very back of the auditorium, on the first floor near the exit, he saw his father propped against the wall, slowly clapping his hands.
“That’s right, this should be for him.” Alexander thought. As he glanced around, he noticed some audience members already getting up to leave, and Alexander decided it was now or never.
“H- Hold on everyone, wait!” Alexander shouted to the crowd. With all the strength he could muster, he yelled out, “I have one final song to play, if you’re willing to listen!”
Across the crowd, confused looks were shot towards one another. Not a single person in the audience had expected this, not even Alexander’s father, who stood eerily silent in the back at this sudden news. Alexander then sat down as quickly as he could in order to start the song.
This time, instead of the music taking over him, Alexander took over the music. Every chord and melody he played were all very simplistic major chords and scale movements, but Alexander filled each note with love and care by striking the keys in rapid succession, with just enough pressure to allow each note to flow throughout the entire hall, but not so rough as to create a clear disconnect between notes. The song flowed so beautifully, that by the time it had ended, the audience simply sat in silence for a full minute, completely enchanted by the sound. For a moment, Alexander had thought he had messed everything up by playing the song at all, until…
“Kid, I’ll give you a full time contract and thousands of dollars, if I could have the honor of representing your music!”
“I can offer you your own studio apartment!”
One by one, Alexander was offered publishing deals for his music, and could not be happier. His father was nowhere to be
seen.
