C. 04

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A's POV

"Rest in peace, you sweet, sweet, gray-haired Angel." I'd pressed his forehead to the urn, shifting slightly after a moment to gently kiss it before rising.

My hand tightened around the ring in my grip, the metal pressing into my flesh with unabashed rigidity.  I watched as the player in front of me concluded, the song wrapping up.  It had felt empty, devoid of anything - the sounds were fine, but nothing a midi and a computer couldn't put together with the right instructions.

Nothing special.

"Alec Durwing, you have been selected to perform second," came the voice of Derek Solier, a man I knew not to mess with.  Just my luck to me second, I guess.

I already knew who was going to be eliminated - this was going to be easy.  As long as I got into that studio with the other band members, I was home free.

We were home free.

'Hold on, Marie,' I thought chastely, closing my eyes for a moment.  I took the chain with the ring and slipped it over my head, tucking the object beneath the fabric of my shirt and rising.  I gave Oliver a reassuring look.  

"Wish me luck, man."  He offered a thumbs up and I smiled.  

I walked up on stage, sitting down into front of the piano and touching my fingers to it.

Ah.  The familiar feel of a piano that's been played correctly before.

It reminded me of Marie's, the one tucked away in her bedroom, the one I'd longed to play for so long.  I bit my lip, testing the first key I touched.

It echoed beautifully through the air.

I calmed myself and let Marie flow through my fingers and onto the keys.

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