The Fated Duet

The Unexpected Everything

School.

Play the piano.

Sleep.

Repeat.

That is my life in a nutshell.

Or at least for now it is if I don't start finding success playing the piano.

Sure I can play Beethoven's pieces from memory (which is more than what most sixteen-year-olds can say they have accomplished), but I have never been able to gain the attention of people so that I can become noticeable in a world that it can be hard to get noticed.

"Good news," my dad says as I enter my dad's small two bedroom apartment.

With my bad luck lately, I am unsure that anything could be good news for me.

"I got the two of us tickets to the New York Young Musicians Exhibition for next week."

I am clueless as to how I end up crossing the small living room area before registering what my Dad had just told me.

"Wait," I say while simultaneously freezing in place. "We are going to the New York Exhibition where the greatest musicians my age are going to perform?"

I slowly pivot around to face my dad who is grinning at me from one of the two tanned recliners in our living room space.

"Yep!"

The grin on my dad's face grows even larger.

"And since tomorrow is Saturday, we will be leaving bright and early to catch our flight to New York. I suggest you go and pack your suitcase right now."

I suddenly find myself sprinting off to the end of the hallway where my room is located, and immediately pull out my phone to record a quick vlog for my roughly two hundred Instagram followers.

"Hi, guys!" I say as I wave my hand in front of my phone. "I just wanted to let you guys know that I just found out that I will be going to the New York Young Musicians Exhibition and I will try to set up a meet and greet for any of you guys that will be going too! Thanks for all of your guy's support!"

I end the recording and post the short vlog to Instagram.

I throw my phone onto my bed and begin to pack my suitcase full of all the clothes that I am going to need while in New York while my phone buzzes to inform me of what I hope are comments on my vlog.

After fifteen minutes of digging through all of my clothes, I finally feel like I have picked out all of the clothes that I want to wear while I am in New York.

I decide that I need to record my playing of Beethoven's Fur Elise while I can, so I grab my phone and head to what is supposed to be the apartment's dining room area.

Instead of a dining table and chairs, our dining room area that sits next to our living room is occupied by a Grand Piano that my dad bought me so I could pursue my dream of playing the piano.

Noticing me set up my laptop and video camera, my dad turns off the tv and comes over to provide assistance.

Once I have everything set up, I sit down on my stool and begin the recording.

"Hello everybody, it is once again me, Greyson and today I will be playing Beethoven's Fur Elise."

I correct my posture, place my fingers on the smooth, slick keys, and begin playing one of my all-time favorite piano pieces.

After having to start over twice after unfortunate mistakes, I get a full playthrough of the piece that I am happy with, allowing me to pack up my laptop so that I can edit my video during the flight to New York City in the morning.

I check my phone and find that the worlds best violinist, Evgenia Yovanovich, had posted a tweet.

@EvgeniaYovanovich: To all my fans who will be in New York City at the Exhibition event, I am still looking for an accompanist piano play for my US tour in two months! Let me know if you want to try out!

I decide to send a reply.

@GreysonPiano: @EvgeniaYovanovich If only a small time pianist like me were good enough. www.instagram.com/GreysonPiano

Not that I will get noticed, but it is worth a try. After all, the worse that could happen is being told no.

Earlier today my friend Dallas, who is a quite advanced violinist asked me to accompany him so that he could do the Polish Dance, Op 82, for his spring final for orchestra next month, so I decide to spend a good portion of the rest of the afternoon practicing the piano portion of the Polish Dance, Op 82.

Before I know it, I have spent over an hour and a half practicing when a sudden vibration of my phone against the hard surface pulls me out of my intense concentration.

I pick up my phone to find that I have received a private message on Instagram.

I unlock my phone and open the Instagram app, only to nearly drop my phone upon seeing who the sender of the message is.

The one.

The only.

Evgenia Yovanovich.

I got messaged by Evgenia Yovanovich and Hell just froze over.

Evgenia: I am surprised that you don't compete with the level of skill you have. You are honestly better than most of the competitive pianist in our age group.

Correction, Evgenia Yovanovich messaged me so Hell froze over, and she complimented me so now the sky is falling too. My life is complete, as would the life of any musician my age as being messaged, let alone complimented, by Evgenia would earn you instant respect.

My phone once again vibrates as another message appears on my screen.

Evgenia: Showing an amazing young pianist like you off to the world would just be the icing on the cake for my tour.

What has my life become?