āShowtime!ā
Ava grinned over at Erys when she arrived, in high spirits. She was a smidge nervous about playing in front of so many people, but she knew they could do it. If she made any mistakes, she knew Erys would know how to keep on going anyway, and that was reassuring. Sheād spent hours practicing this because she didnāt want to mess anything up for her friend, so she also had some confidence that sheād be able to pull off her end of things all right. The first performance seemed to be someone singing, and they were pretty good, earning themselves a round of applause before it was time for the two girls to step onstage.
Ava took the opportunity to prepare, sliding a block of resin along the white horsehair strings of her bow. The violin itself was a Stradivarius, something she would never have dreamed of owning for herself in a million years, but Jazz had given it to her for her last birthday as though it were hardly remarkable. The gesture had reduced her to tears quite unexpectedly, at least until sheād started laughing at the look on his face. Heād had no idea what to do, having clearly not expected her to start weeping. Heād been somewhat mollified when she explained the concept of āhappy tearsā though how something like that was completely new to someone whoād lived as long as he had was a complete mystery to Ava.
No sooner had she finished with her tuning and preparation than the two girls were called on stage. Taking hold of Erysās hand for a brief moment, Ava gave it a confident, friendly squeeze, imparting her well-wishes with just that, since words werenāt the best of ideas right now. The two crossed onto the platform, Erys taking her seat at the piano and Ava standing just a little ways in front of it and off to the side. The song, one theyād chosen for the fact that it seemed to convey a lot of emotion and skill without being over the top, started with Erys, and Ava relaxed into the feeling of her friendās lovely music, closing her eyes and lifting her violin to her chin.
The bow drew across the strings in the first mournful note, and just like that, the two of them were off I their on world, where it was just each other and the music. Their performance was perfectly-times, the shifts in the melody occurring at just the right places, as though they were each reading the mind of the other. Ava felt a little like she was floating away on a raincloud, but then, music had always been like that for her. She remembered with fondness the first time sheād ever heard a classical piece on the piano, and how sheād wanted more than anything else to be able to do that. As it turned out, her short fingers and small hands were much better suited to the violin, so Jazz taught her how to play that instead, but she was always and still taken with the multitonal capabilities of the piano. Erys played very well.
The song drew to a close, fading on her last note, and she bowed before the audience, gesturing over to Erys as the applause grew louder, and the two headed backstage, only to find that Jasper was already there. He looked put-together in his suit, which he found a little bit funny considering she always had to do his cuffs for him, but he was smiling proudly at her, and it made her feel all warm inside. It was a studentās biggest praise to make their teacher proud, wasnāt it?
āI am not sure how to follow a performance like that,ā he said graciously, āThe two of you were truly something to be heard.ā Ava smiled brightly and poked him in the shoulder.
āDonāt be modest,ā she scolded, āYouāre much better than Iāll ever get to be.ā She had no idea how long heād been playing, only that she found it always absolutely entrancing when he did. āStick around, Erys, itās really something special.ā Jazz cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she could tell from the slight pinkness to his cheeks that she was embarrassing him. This was another of those faces of his that he didnāt let most people see, and she had to say, it was one of her favoritesāit made her feel like sheād accomplished something, to make him all flustered. She figured it must be a sibling-like thing, though sheād never had a brother to be sure.
Jasper was spared any further indignity when he was announced, and he smiled apologetically at both women, bowling slightly and taking his leave. Ava lingered backstage, inclined to watch from here rather than out with the crowd. She glanced over at Erys, eyes bright with her excitement. She hadnāt heard this in, what? A year, at least, and even then heād only played to help her tune the Strad. He was just so busy, he never had time for his hobbies.
Jasper sat down at the piano with what he imagined must be the feel of a man in the desert come to an oasis. There were eyes on him, of courseāthat was rather the point of a staged performance. But it was so easy to forget that, to imagine that he was just back in his home, many years ago, playing for his mother, or one of his cousins, or more recently, for Ava. The song he chose was an old one, one that he believed had been Nikkiās preference. His mother had preferred Vivaldi, and Ava liked Chopin. Naya, he remembered, liked the aggressive style of Beethoven. This one, though, took him back more than a century, to lazy summer afternoons at the manor, filled with the haze of family and warmth, and a little girl whoād looked at him with large puppy-eyes until heād sighed, closed the book he was reading, and taken her hand, leading her over to the piano bench and sitting her in his lap, letting her strike whatever keys sheād wanted and building a melody out of the ones around them, until the music was theirs and she was laughing with the delight of it all.
He missed his family, so very dearly.
The song came to a close, and Jasper stood, bowing to the audience, and departed.
Ava took the opportunity to prepare, sliding a block of resin along the white horsehair strings of her bow. The violin itself was a Stradivarius, something she would never have dreamed of owning for herself in a million years, but Jazz had given it to her for her last birthday as though it were hardly remarkable. The gesture had reduced her to tears quite unexpectedly, at least until sheād started laughing at the look on his face. Heād had no idea what to do, having clearly not expected her to start weeping. Heād been somewhat mollified when she explained the concept of āhappy tearsā though how something like that was completely new to someone whoād lived as long as he had was a complete mystery to Ava.
No sooner had she finished with her tuning and preparation than the two girls were called on stage. Taking hold of Erysās hand for a brief moment, Ava gave it a confident, friendly squeeze, imparting her well-wishes with just that, since words werenāt the best of ideas right now. The two crossed onto the platform, Erys taking her seat at the piano and Ava standing just a little ways in front of it and off to the side. The song, one theyād chosen for the fact that it seemed to convey a lot of emotion and skill without being over the top, started with Erys, and Ava relaxed into the feeling of her friendās lovely music, closing her eyes and lifting her violin to her chin.
The bow drew across the strings in the first mournful note, and just like that, the two of them were off I their on world, where it was just each other and the music. Their performance was perfectly-times, the shifts in the melody occurring at just the right places, as though they were each reading the mind of the other. Ava felt a little like she was floating away on a raincloud, but then, music had always been like that for her. She remembered with fondness the first time sheād ever heard a classical piece on the piano, and how sheād wanted more than anything else to be able to do that. As it turned out, her short fingers and small hands were much better suited to the violin, so Jazz taught her how to play that instead, but she was always and still taken with the multitonal capabilities of the piano. Erys played very well.
The song drew to a close, fading on her last note, and she bowed before the audience, gesturing over to Erys as the applause grew louder, and the two headed backstage, only to find that Jasper was already there. He looked put-together in his suit, which he found a little bit funny considering she always had to do his cuffs for him, but he was smiling proudly at her, and it made her feel all warm inside. It was a studentās biggest praise to make their teacher proud, wasnāt it?
āI am not sure how to follow a performance like that,ā he said graciously, āThe two of you were truly something to be heard.ā Ava smiled brightly and poked him in the shoulder.
āDonāt be modest,ā she scolded, āYouāre much better than Iāll ever get to be.ā She had no idea how long heād been playing, only that she found it always absolutely entrancing when he did. āStick around, Erys, itās really something special.ā Jazz cleared his throat uncomfortably, and she could tell from the slight pinkness to his cheeks that she was embarrassing him. This was another of those faces of his that he didnāt let most people see, and she had to say, it was one of her favoritesāit made her feel like sheād accomplished something, to make him all flustered. She figured it must be a sibling-like thing, though sheād never had a brother to be sure.
Jasper was spared any further indignity when he was announced, and he smiled apologetically at both women, bowling slightly and taking his leave. Ava lingered backstage, inclined to watch from here rather than out with the crowd. She glanced over at Erys, eyes bright with her excitement. She hadnāt heard this in, what? A year, at least, and even then heād only played to help her tune the Strad. He was just so busy, he never had time for his hobbies.
Jasper sat down at the piano with what he imagined must be the feel of a man in the desert come to an oasis. There were eyes on him, of courseāthat was rather the point of a staged performance. But it was so easy to forget that, to imagine that he was just back in his home, many years ago, playing for his mother, or one of his cousins, or more recently, for Ava. The song he chose was an old one, one that he believed had been Nikkiās preference. His mother had preferred Vivaldi, and Ava liked Chopin. Naya, he remembered, liked the aggressive style of Beethoven. This one, though, took him back more than a century, to lazy summer afternoons at the manor, filled with the haze of family and warmth, and a little girl whoād looked at him with large puppy-eyes until heād sighed, closed the book he was reading, and taken her hand, leading her over to the piano bench and sitting her in his lap, letting her strike whatever keys sheād wanted and building a melody out of the ones around them, until the music was theirs and she was laughing with the delight of it all.
He missed his family, so very dearly.
The song came to a close, and Jasper stood, bowing to the audience, and departed.