Unceasing brightness

Light.

All-encompassing. Ever present. Absolute radiance. It was beautiful.

Relentless. Invasive. Frighteningly bright. It left no room for darkness.

It blinded me. All the lights in the world were upon me. There was no room for a shadow of mine. No room for doubt. No room for thought. It was the lights, and the lights were me. I touched the ceramic keys of heaven's machination. They felt light, my hand glided on them as if water. I realise soon that I am expected.

Expected for what?

The lights are overbearing; they are disorienting but clarity finally hits me. I feel the 12000 parts of this instrument of music and my fingers find purchase. I press the key and blood rushes through my body. The sharp, yet regal tone of A minor pierces my ears. I try to remember what comes next but I already know. Chords turn into quartets and soon the lights disappear.

I flow in the sound. My fingers guide its flow. The stillness of the place seems inviting. As if it had been waiting for my arrival. I listen and weave Elfrida Andrée’s A minor quartet repertoire into Debussy’s Clair De Lune, the softer quiet parts of the music leading to the more eccentric parts of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier.

I don’t know how it happened. It’s like one of those things you have nightmares about.

I had spent countless days working on a piece that had made my master call me a lunatic. I wasn’t skilled enough; he said. But to his credit he didn’t dismiss the idea entirely. He let me try after all. In the massive auditorium of Culture and History, at the eve of inaugural day no less. Just the thought rattles me. I turn to a C# minor repertoire to slowly bring in the more well recognized Rachmaninov.

I feel the strings tense as my movements become animated and the tempo more rapid. The experience of playing a piano is something you can’t ever describe. It is like a dance between your fingers and the sounds each key makes. It’s a passionate dance between you and the music you create. And just like a well-choreographed dance, one slip could make the entire thing fall apart.

To be on the stage, thousands of people watching you. Enraptured to your performance, hanging on to every note. Every sound you make- precise, perfect. And then you slip. You tap the wrong note.

Something deep inside me broke. It was like glass shattering on the floor. One moment I was playing Liszt’s Liebestraum as the ode to my piece and then a singular note took over my world. Its echoes were in my head. I keep playing, not letting it take over my flow. My hands danced rapidly on the keys but it was as if the strings resented me. I feel the sharp stare of everyone watching me. Their gaze pierced through the veil of sound I had created around myself. I neared the climax. I would see it to the end, I promised myself.

I descended the higher octaves to the low ones as I neared the end of my performance. They called the piece a dream. To envision two people madly falling in love. If that were so, I had ended on the note of two people being married happily ever after. But perhaps their love had come at a cost. The note that kept haunting me were the dreams they had sacrificed to be with each other. I embraced my shortcomings and lived with it. It was the only reason I hadn’t drowned in despair.

Suddenly the illusion is no more. The audience looks at each other. They don’t speak but they silently know that you are but a mere mortal. No better than the rest of them.

And yet, they clap. Their cheers and shouts drown me as I stand up and bow. The lights have finally relented. I find myself with my shadow again, judging me. It had plenty of reasons to. I had fucked up. I slowly walked backstage. My master was the only one standing back there with the rest of the tech crew. He walked towards me and pulled me into a hug. I may have teared up a bit but he just gently patted me on my shoulder. When he pulled away he looked me in the eye and said “Whatever lesson you take away from today, remember that I am proud to be your master and you have every reason to be proud of what you have accomplished here today.”

When you got on that stage, you always took the risk of committing a fatal error. Major or minor, everyone who watched you that day would remember that you made a mistake. They wouldn’t remind you of it, perhaps. They might even be good natured about it and say that it was just the nerves. First performances were supposed to be challenging, they would say.

Perhaps that was the anchor I needed. To let all of it sink in. The 3-piece suit I wore had become a drenched mess. I pull off my jacket and wrap it around my torso. It would have to do for now. I walk outside into the auditorium grounds proper and feel the tang of the summer night. August 5th hadn’t brought along the winds of fall this year. My family was there sitting in the front rows and they waved at me. I waved back at them and started walking in their direction when I realised every seat was occupied. My brother sensed my plight. Pulling out his tongue he taunted me with his ever emotive face.

I turned around and caught my friend waving me over. Walking in his direction I heard the host call my performance “a work of art.” I suppose she was right. All art is flawed after all.

And then the people you care about dearly would say the same damn things to you and you become numb to it. It feels dumb to even think about it normally. It’s like a scar on your face that everyone looks at but ignores. They know a response- be it sympathetic or questioning, would be painful on your part. Not that it stops them from asking anyway.

“You look awful.” Luke Rogers was right. I felt awful, at least.

“Good to see you too, buddy.” I replied. My voice came out ragged.

“First of all, I want you to drink something for me.” Luke handed me a glass of water. Or atleast, I thought it was a glass of water.

“I promise getting me drunk isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

“Oh I would love to see you drunk, personally. But today unfortunately isn’t that day.”

I stared at him pointedly.

“Okay…” I took the glass from his hands and sipped. It tasted awful. Like genuinely pretty awful. “Ugh, do I really have to?”

“No complaining- just chug it down for now.”

“But what is it?!” I exclaimed as Luke tried to force it down my throat. I had no strength to resist.

“Pinch of salt and sugar with a tang of lemon. You don’t wanna pass out in this heat, do you now?” Luke said, taking the glass from my hand and handing it to one of the volunteers in the event grounds. I grumbled and stayed silent.

“Secondly and this is important so listen to me carefully.” He said, grabbing my shoulders.

“Oh? Wait, don’t tell me-” I started.

“Nothing will change the fact that you performed out of your freaking mind. So please don’t go around moping and being miserable tonight, okay?” Luke continued earnestly.

“You finally asked out Sanya?” I finished and immediately regretted it. Luke’s ears went red and he laughed awkwardly.

“Low blow dude. Totally not cool!” Luke tried to smile awkwardly but it was futile.

“It’s your fault for being so serious when you said that!” I retorted.

“Do you really think I would be hanging out with your dumbass if I had asked her out?”

“Well- maybe if you had gotten rejected?”

“Yours truly would be listening to dreamy pop bands and reading shoujo mangas if that was the case, not attending couples central at night. Take a hint, Greyson.” He paused for a bit. “Besides… I could never be the one to catch a shooting star.”

“Sorry?” Luke’s tone surprised me. I hadn’t heard him being philosophical like that in a hot minute.

“Forget it. Anyway, what do you wanna do now?”

“We are meeting with the rest of them, right?” I asked. Not that I was particularly looking forward to the ‘them’ entity all that much.

“Yeah, around Fair street. It’s kinda really hot and suffocating in here.” I looked at the jacket tied around my torso and stared at him.

“You think?”

“I think you need a long break and-” he said as we walked out of the auditorium and under the night sky “you need a Cooper special.”

“Wait, it's still open?”

“Yeah late hours tonight for the nightly crowd. It’s inaugural day buddy, lots of money exchanging hands.”

“How fortunate for me.” I mused to myself as we walked around the corner into Fair street.

Probably memorable to most people for being the most vibrantly decorated locale in the entire town, Fair street became the heart of the city whenever the town of Willowby came together for an event. Regardless of where it happened, the street would always be home to the fairy lights and neon signs of the several stalls that came to life on the eve of such occasions. Usually though the lights aren’t up for this long. Definitely not after 10 in the night.

“Didn’t know they would keep the lights on just for my performance.” I mused to myself as we walked into the semi-crowded part of the street. There was the usual lineup of different styles of food- although Chinese as always received the most demand. Delilah Sexton or as we liked to call her- Deeds, the owner of the ‘Mel’s at 22’ cafe, handled the organisation of the food stalls. They usually managed the Italian section and sure enough there they were waving at someone in the crowd with a plate of food in their hands. I rushed their way and Deeds gave me a big smile.

“What took you so long?” Before I could respond Deeds shouted something at the batch of chefs in the back. “Thought you had gone straight home! Wouldn’t blame you either, considering how hellish it is right now.”

“You guys doing okay back there?” I asked partly out of concern but mostly because Deeds could go feral when managing too many things at once.

“Mostly. Just another day of managing a bunch of shitheads who can’t follow directions. Oh look at me, forgetting to let people order again- What are you guys having tonight? Don’t worry-” Deeds must have expected that I wasn’t really in the mood for Italian in this heat and after the ordeal I had gone through. “-it doesn’t have to be Italian, just lemme know what you guys are having and I will have it sent right your way!”

I looked at Luke questioning if he wanted something for himself, and he shook his head. Oh well, guess it was just me.

“I will have the Cooper special and an iced coffee, please.” I said as I scanned the payment QR code.

“Sure thing Grayson. You guys scat now, I will have my boys hand it to you when it’s ready. Have a great rest of the night!” 

Despite everything however, you persevere. Because deep down you know that if you give in to the pain, you will only end up hurting the people you care about. So you work harder to not repeat those mistakes again. You have promises to keep and dreams to fulfil. You perform as if you hadn’t just stepped on a vine of thorns. You perform as if the world was but a moment you had to live for. The flaws merely sharpened your clarity of that moment.

Luke and I walked along the centre of the street which ironically was the least crowded part as most people flocked around the pedestrian sides, sitting down in their little groups and vibing to the end of the world. I tried to spot my friends amidst the crowd as I noticed Luke doing the same, before deciding that I simply didn’t have the energy for it. I switched on my phone and texted them in the group chat when I heard her call out to me. Call out my name.