Nevermore

Chapter 37

L U C A

After nearly an hour, Luca was called backstage with Shawn as his company. As Luca paced around the small room, he could hear the woman play the piano on stage. She had chosen to play Valse No. 5 by Chopin, which made Luca doubt if his own choice was good enough.

"Luca Miller!" Only when the selection committee called Luca onto stage did he realize that the woman before him had finished playing.

Luca took a step forward, but he froze before he could even leave the backstage. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his breathing had become short. He started to feel dizzy.

For a split moment, Luca felt like he was nine again. That he was back in the little theatre, looking anxiously at his father's empty seat in the audience, counting the seconds as he waited for him. But his father hadn't showed up. He never did.

Luca slightly jumped when he suddenly felt Shawn take a hold of his hand where he kept it by his side, and gave a gentle squeeze.

"No matter what happens, no matter if you get this part or not, we're all going to be proud of you," Shawn whispered to him, gazing down into his eyes. "You know that, right?"

All Luca managed was a small nod of his head, but it was Shawn's words that pushed him forward and onto the stage, guiding him. His voice was the remedy he'd needed all along.

There was only a piano placed in the middle of the stage, and the enormous hall was empty except for five judges on the front seats; four men and only one woman, seated in the middle.

"You may begin," the woman said after Luca politely greeted them. He realized that she had a faint Italian accent.

Luca felt weak in the knees, and yet he mustered the remaining strength in him and sat behind the piano. He began to play the first song, but after he was done and looked over at the committee, he saw them whispering together. They didn't look very impressed.

"Thank you, Mr. Miller," the middle-aged woman said in a blank voice. "Now please play your second chosen piece."

Luca placed his shaky fingers back on the piano. He closed his for a single moment and took a deep breath as his old memories fell down upon him like merciless raindrops:

He had woken up in his bed, and as he yawned, he'd seen the snow falling behind his bedroom window. All sleepiness vanished from his eyes, replaced by an excited glimmer, the way it happened to every other seven-year-old when they woke up on a snowy Christmas morning.

Luca pushed the blankets off him and immediately rushed out of his room without changing his pajamas or combing his hair. He ran down the stairs with a broad smile on his face, but he froze when he entered their hall and let out a gasp. There, right beside their Christmas tree, there was black piano with a red ribbon on top of it.

"Merry Christmas, Darling." Luca turned around at the sweet sound of his mother's voice. She was walking toward him with his father right behind her, both smiling.

"Do you like it?" Mr. Miller asked with a cup of coffee in hand.

"I love it!" Luca squealed happily. He made a run toward the piano, but he stopped himself in mid-way, and instead jumped in to hug his parents.

"I'm glad you like it," his mother said, chuckling.

"I'll get you a piano tutor. A proper one. The best one in town," Mr. Miller said proudly, patting Luca on the head and ruffling up his hair.

The following week, they hired Miss Bradley as Luca's music teacher, and within only six months he could play better than any of his peers. At nights, whenever Luca began to play the piano, his father would always come down from his office and his mother would walk out of the parlor and into the hall to hear him play, with proud smiles planted on their lips.