Your fingers fly over the black and white keys with a clumsy grace that does not serve to please; not your irritable instructor.
"No! No, no, no, stop Mikaela! Stop this instant," she orders waspishly.
You cease playing wearily as she stalks to the grand piano from across the room. Her heels click menacingly on the cream parquet floor and her jacket lapels flutter with her step as she fixes you with an intimidating glare.
"Your fourth stumble over that F. Will you please concentrate and remember to play that as F sharp?" she snaps.
You lower your head ashamedly. "Yes, Madame Lee," you mutter, smoothing the sheet music.
"Let's try that again. And, play with fluidity at the speed of andante please. Evenly."
"Yes Madame."
Your piano teacher is not someone to be messed with. Though petit and slim, as well as acquiring an increasing amount of grey hair, Madame Lee is still one of the most strict and scariest teachers you've ever met. From her haughty gait to the way she holds her head high, it's obvious that age does not hinder her, and from personal experience, it's evident as well in her loud voice.
You resume playing, timidly at first, and then more confidently. But Madame Lee is not satisfied. "Again! With alacrity at the start and a smooth transition at the bridge! Again!"
Sighing, you position your fingers yet again to play, but she suddenly silences you with a wave of her hand. "We are out of time. I shall see you next week. Do practice hard; though we may need more luck than skill with you," she says harshly, adjusting her black wire-rimmed glasses before striding out.
You collapse at the piano in the deserted studio room and exhale loudly. The moonlight is filtering through the silky chiffon curtains, and slanted silver beams appear across the room in a soothing pattern.
Defeatedly, you step open the glass French doors out onto the balcony into the fresh air of the cool night. You lean on the pearly marble balustrade and gaze at the stunning night. The inky sky is dotted with innumerable constellations of sparkling stars. They glitter like diamonds; precious jewels set in a backdrop of the darkest velvet.
The smooth white stone under your hands is cool and refreshing yet cannot ease the turmoil in your mind. When will you be able to finally meet the expectations of Madame Lee. Will such a thing ever happen?
Tonight does not provide the answers, and you turn away, returning to the grand room. You exit silently, pulling your thick coat closer to you and drawing the gilded ivory-white doors closed. You quietly proceed down the hallways, past the elegant paintings and blooming flower vases placed at intervals down the corridors, and eventually leaving the majestic building of Amadeus Academy.
~
You stand in front of Studio #5 and take a deep breath. Well, here goes nothing. You've practiced diligently, like any other week, but they do little to raise the opinion of Madame Lee. And you see today as no different.
As you play, your instructor tuts and waves her hands about, making you slow and stop.
"No, no, no. It," She jabs at the sheet music emphatically. 'clearly says pianissimo and not piano. Softer, lighter, chaster, please. Again from bar 27!'
The rest of the lesson goes similarly to that, with Madame Lee pointing out mistakes and flaws in all aspects; posture, dynamics, rhythm etc. It's entirely exhausting. By the time the teacher has finally left, you feel drained.
The door clicks lightly, making you turn around. It's a handsome guy, who looks around the same age as you, with fluffy brown hair and dark eyes.
You get up quickly. "Sorry, I didn't know there was going to be-"
He smiles cutely. "No, no, that's okay. I was only listening to you play."
You groan inwardly. "I'm bad right? I just can't get anything the way Madame Lee wants it."
A laugh escapes his mouth. "That's alright, I have her too and she's pretty demanding."
"Ugh, tell me about it."
He approaches you. "So... do you want help? It's Phantasietanz, right? Schumann?'
You nod vigorously. "It's so terribly hard.
He flips through his folder and puts it on the stand, but not before considerately putting your sheets on top of the piano to avoid them getting creased. "Alright. Play for me."
You see his name written in the corner of the page; Byun Baekhyun. "Can I call you Baekhyun?"
He glances at you, surprised. "Sure."
You allow yourself a small smile and begin to play. You play relatively well until that part you always play wrong. It just never sounds right.
"Yeah... I can help you with that."
Baekhyun leans down and places his fingers on the keys, arms around you and breath tickling your ear. You withdraw your hands and place them in your lap.
"I'll play now... And you watch and listen carefully. Okay?"
You nod, a light blush appearing at the close proximity.
He really is talented at playing. His long fingers deftly move over the octaves and execute the bridge with stunning precision, to finally end with the cadence. You watch attentively, rapt.
"Now, you try it."
You do as told. He moves the way your hands are positioned a little. "It'll help the music flow better," he explains.
You start. It works better and even the bridge starts to sound a little less horrid. It actually is recognisable now, though you still haven't quite done it justice. One step at a time.
At the end of your impromptu private lesson, you've gotten to know Baekhyun a bit more. He's friendly, though shy, but he seems to have warmed up to you easily and in between practising, you talk to each other about general things. You're almost disappointed when Baekhyun waves at you and leaves.
~
Baekhyun comes around a lot now; the two of you've gotten into the habit of meeting in Studio #5, and perhaps it's not so piano-centric anymore. You've become rather good friends.
And you've managed to improve in Madame Lee's eyes. You smugly remember the lesson after the first 2 times Baekhyun helped you.
"Miss Mikaela. Let's see you do Schumann," Madame Lee said, looking through the panoramic windows that gave a sweeping view.
You started calmly, the familiar music filling the room with a more refined style than before. Madame Lee visibly started and peered at you through those infuriating glasses, suspicious.
The coda ran evenly and for once, you finally thought that you'd perhaps accomplished something more. Maybe only small, even minute, but it was something.
"Well, well, there is more potential than meets the microscope, darling," she said, almost in a complimenting manner. Almost. Well, that was good enough.
"Hello Baekhyun," you greet cheerfully as he turns up at the exact moment he always does. Approximately 30 seconds after Madame Lee leaves. Such perfect timing.
"Hello Mikaela. How's the new piece going?"
"Don't even talk about it, Baek."
"Alright, we'll talk about something else. I'll sing for you."
You nod eagerly and watch him intently.
Baekhyun's voice is sweet and the song sounds contemporary, in fact, incredibly familiar. "Angel?"
He smiles and stops singing. "Yeah, you're my angel."
You blush and laugh it off. "Don't joke with me, Byun Baekhyun~" you say as you drag him onto the balcony like every other time.
Together, you stand side by side in the pale moonlight and he can almost see your halo if he looks hard enough. "I'm serious," he whispers, snaking an arm around your waist. "Be my angel?"
Your cheeks redden in embarrassment at having indirectly blown him off. "Okay, I guess. But you'll have to help me with the new music; I can't play it."
"Anything, Mikaela. After all, from what I've heard, music in the moonlight has got to be one of the romantic settings for a date."