He was convinced I would never be good enough.
But I am. If I win. Even he won't be able to ignore that proof. It's my chance to make him understand that choosing the piano was the right decision. And ultimately, to prove it to myself.
I barely notice Tamika jumping into my arms with a shout of joy. My thoughts are scattered, and emotions are overflowing. But gradually, a clear image forms in my mind.
"We should plan a tour," I say. Besides the musical concept, the jury values sales figures the most. But the fans, who will ultimately decide, can only be convinced by my music. I have to be better than I've ever been. I have to surpass myself; only then do I have a chance at this prize.
"Don't worry, preparations are already underway. Ralf and I are developing a new show. We need fresh compositions from you, preferably with a romantic touch, nothing too extravagant." Tamika's eyes light up. "We're planning an open-air tour, performing in all the capital cities and musical centers of Europe. Additionally, we'll ensure plenty of positive press coverage."
"Yes, yes, and yes." I can already vividly imagine myself sitting at the piano on the stage in the Arena di Verona, pouring my soul out. I hear the accompanying orchestra, see the fireworks rising behind the ancient arches of the amphitheater, and feel the energy of the moment. "That sounds amazing."
"The fans will love you. And they undoubtedly have to," Tamika grins mischievously.
I nod excitedly, but behind all my enthusiasm, a heavy thought suddenly emerges. "What about Sophia?"
Tamika shrugs. "She'll come with us, of course. She'll find this journey exciting, and in the fall, she can brag to her kindergarten friends about it."
Even though Tamika takes it lightly, my thoughts darken further. "But she's only five. Who will take care of her on tour?"
"We'll hire a nanny. I'll take care of that. Between rehearsals, performances, and press events, you can do something nice with Sophia," she says, casually uttering the words as if it's not a problem at all. As if there would be any time for anything during a tour.
I sink onto one of the kitchen stools, resting my head in my hands. How could I neglect Sophia like this when I finally have the chance to be a good father to her? This is wrong.
Suddenly, Tamika's forearm is heavy on my shoulders. "Don't even start thinking that way," she says, as if she knows exactly what's going on inside me.
I look up at her. Her expression is serious.
"You've worked too hard to let up now. If there ever was a right time to give it your all, it's the coming months." She looks into my eyes intensely, her hand tightening around my shoulder.
"That's true..."
"Besides, you have many more summers ahead with your daughter. Next year, you can even take a whole month off and spend exclusive time with her. But you can only win the award this year, and maybe neveragain." It's fascinating how Tamika sees the world so pragmatically. But she's my manager for a reason. She knows what's best for my career.
However, no matter how right she may be in this matter, I can't give in to her urging without a fight. "Isn't there another possibility? A smaller tour, more concert breaks? Or we could skip the press events?" I look at her hopefully, but I can already read the answers to the questions on her face.
She hands me my glass again, somberly. "Your competitors will fight with all means necessary. If you don't go along, negative headlines will rain down on you. Your fans will turn away, and then you can forget about the music award."
Right. I have to deliver. This nomination is an honor, and if I don't do everything to win the prize, my father will be proven right once and for all. I would be forced to admit that I'm actually not good enough. And that I never truly was.
That must not happen!
I have to find a way to reconcile my most important career goal with the desire to be a good father. There's no other way.
"Well, it's settled then," I say, my voice firm as if I'm trying to convince myself that I can achieve both. I nod emphatically, then I place the champagne glass on the kitchen counter without taking a single sip.
