Twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six.
"Your divorce last year must have been an equally impactful experience for you," she continues mercilessly. "How did it come to this?"
Not that I enjoy discussing it, but at least my manager prepared me for this topic. "We grew apart, and I'm glad we were able to separate amicably, remaining the best of friends."
"For Sophia?"
"For everyone involved." I smile again, although I've had more than enough of it by now. When will this charade finally be over?
"Of course, our female viewers are particularly interested in your love life. An attractive, successful man like you..." Her gaze sweeps over my body as if I were every woman's dream even though I'm just an ordinary human.
The press has tried so many times in the past months to uncover something about my love life. But the truth is, it doesn't exist.
"My love belongs to music, and it will always stay that way," I respond.
A resigned sigh escapes her lips. "If that's the case, of course we want to hear you play now." She gestures toward the concert grand piano located on the side stage next to us. Its half-open lid glistens under the spotlight, the stool covered in blue velvet, and the keys magnetically drawing my fingers.
This is what I've been waiting for. Interviews are not my favorite pastime, but everything else becomes unimportant when I sit at the piano.
Relieved, I rise and approach the piano. I let my fingers rest on the pleasantly cool keys for a moment, close my eyes, and release all the tension from the interview through my breath.
Let's begin.
I cautiously play the first notes. My fingers danceacross the keys, finding their place and creating a melody that carries me away.
Every movement is perfect—no mistakes and not even the slightest hesitation. The sequence of tones becomes more and more intense, and everything within me begins to resonate.
I smile, no, I radiate, as I pour all my passion and emotions into this one piece. As I approach the grand finale, even my heart beats faster. The music permeates me, and I become one with it, forgetting the world around me. This is happiness in its purest form.
Another triplet.
The crescendo.
Then the final chord.
With my eyes still closed, I wait until the last notes have faded away in the room. This moment belongs to me and my listeners. We are all connected, experiencing the power of music and letting it affect us.
Only when absolute silence sets in does the audience begin to applaud. I hear enthusiastic cheers and open my eyelids. The lights in the hall turn on, allowing me to see the people in the audience. There's a little girl with thick glasses clapping devotedly. And an old lady, sticking her fingers in her mouth like a teenager and whistling so loudly that I can hear it from here.
I know I'm beaming. My eyes are moist, and my cheeks are glowing. Because at this moment, above all else, I am grateful.
After so many years of rigorous practice, of striving to be seen and never giving up despite countless setbacks, I am finally able to live my dream of playing the piano.
***
Shortly after, I leave the studio through the back exit, get into the car, and drive to the nearest shopping center. Once I arrive, I put on the dark baseball cap for safety and slip into the subtle gray sports jacket. That, along with my inconspicuous jeans, should be enough to stroll through the center unnoticed.
Walking along the wide corridor with glossy tiles, I focus on my mission today. My daughter, Sophia, will be spending the summer with me. I want to give her a warm welcome and provide her with everything she needs. That's why I make a stop at a toy store. My gaze searches the display. The horses and the horse stable might appeal to Sophia. Every little girl likes that sort of thing, right? Or does she prefer one of those wooden train sets?
Feeling more uncertain than I'd like, I enter the shop. The dusty smell of the carpet hits me, and a faint children's laughter can be heard amid soft background music.
"Please, Daddy, the pirate ship is so beautiful," says the little boy by the side shelf, unable to keep his legs still.
A man who is undoubtedly his father lovingly strokes his blond hair. Then he crouches down in front of his son. "We can build it together and go on an adventure. What do you think?"
"Oh, yes!" The little one's face lights up, and with a cry of joy, he throws himself into his father's arms. "You're the best dad in the whole world."
Hearing those words pierces my heart.
