Virtuoso

Immeasurable blood, sweat and tears led him to be just that. A virtuoso.

It gave him a high amount of respect – both from himself and from those around him. It was never easy to be the best.

“Umma, why can’t I play outside like the rest of the kids?”

“Son, this is for you.”

“Umma, I don’t want to be good in playing the piano. I don’t want to play the piano.”

“You’ll learn to love it. I promise you.”

Bach.

Strauss.

Beethoven.

He found it too foolish for his parents to think he could be anything like them.

But still, he went on. Note after note. Chord after chord. Arpeggio after arpeggio. He went on until the piano became a part of him.

Effortlessly, skilfully, his fingers danced over the keys of the piano each and every time he played. He made it look so easy when behind his flawless performances, there would always be the blood, sweat and tears.

“What now?” Heechul asked; his back facing his friend as he stared at the oak trophy case leaning against the wall.

“What do you mean ‘what now’?” Leeteuk asked absently; fingers skimming through score after score.

“A virtuoso can fall in love too, right?”

“Of course.” He answered. “With music.”

Heechul rolled his eyes. “My friend, you are hopeless.”

“How can I be hopeless?”

His eyes rolled again; a few strides later and he was seated on the leather couch. “What’s the most important performance you ever did or will ever do?”

Leeteuk paused, quietly setting the scores back on his table. “I…”

“When you find someone you’d want to play the piano for for the rest of your life, get back to me and answer my question.”

His friend’s question seemed worthless back then.

The same friend watched with a proud smile on his face as Leeteuk walked down the aisle, heading for the pristine white piano at the end of it. Taking a seat on the similarly coloured bench; his fingers were soon lightly resting on the keys of the piano.

As the first note reached the ears of those it could, people were soon on their feet; the music filling their hearts and mind. Soon, a feeling of serenity reigned.

“Pachelbel’s Canon?”

“Why do I have a feeling there’s an unspoken ‘why’ to your question?”

Heechul shrugged absently. “I thought you’d go for something more… complicated.”

“You told me three years ago... when I find someone I’d want to play the piano for for the rest of my life, I should look for you.”

“So what’s the answer?” He asked. “What now?”

“I don’t think I’d love playing any other piece as much as I love this one.”

The white curtains were drawn apart and sunlight slowly crept in.

A shadow soon contrasted the brightest, followed by a figure of a tall woman.

Leeteuk continued to play as if he hadn’t played the piano in the longest time. In truth, it felt like it.

He allowed his eyes to look from the keys to the woman slowly walking down the aisle; her hand resting on the crook of her father’s elbow. Sooyoung smiled so brilliantly at him as she kept her eyes on no one else but him, whispering an ‘I love you’ into the air and to him.

He could afford to let his fingers do their magic without his watchful eyes. He’d played this piece one too many times. It was only once in his life, however, that he’d get to see her like that.

“You know, you’re really one of a kind.”

“If it’s because I’m a virtuoso then–”

Heechul snorted. “You’re the only groom I know who’d play the wedding march at his own wedding.”

“I always play for her. Why would our wedding be any different?”