Part One

I like music. It’s quite difficult to explain why I like it, but ever since I was a kid, I knew that there was a connection between the words unspoken and the melody unsung. I suppose it all started with those folk songs my mother liked so much, the ones with the simple beat and the simple words that upon inspection really weren’t as simple as they appeared to be. Like how they sang about flowers and mountains and the weather but in reality, it’s all just a metaphor for one’s love, or heartbreak, in most cases. Almost as if the words themselves were a disguise.

I was on the plane to see my best friend, and was undeniably excited. Quite rightly so too, as I had spent nearly the whole summer slaving away at the family restaurant just so I could save up for the plane tickets. Tao, that was his name, had told me not to worry about accommodation and that he would take care of everything, so all I had to do was chase my dream. Like a flower amongst the weeds, trying to reach for the sun, if I had to sing a folk song about it.

As the plane touched down, I gripped intensely onto the armrest and grinned to myself. This, he told me, was where I would become a star.

I saw him shortly after, having just come out of Immigration and Customs, and boy, was I in for a surprise. He was standing right near the exit, craning his neck, scanning for a kid with a mop of brown hair and a guitar case on his back. But the crowd in front of him were making it difficult for him, what with their jumping around and obsessive squealing. It also didn’t help that I was not so tall and plain looking, allowing me to blend in with the crowd. Like a wallflower, if I had to sing about it.

So I waved my hands maniacally and tip-toed a little as I made my way through the crowd (strangely consisting of mainly females), hoping that he could see me. He did. And like those cheesy romantic movies, we ran into each other’s arms and embraced tightly, almost too afraid to let go, as if we would never see each other again if we did.

“My, you’ve grown into a fine young man.” I grinned, surveying his impressive height.

He rolled his eyes, grinning as he took my luggage. “And you, you’ve grown into a nagging uncle. It’s just a few centimetres, nothing so impressive.” He dismissed it with a flick of his wrist. “But Xing ah, you could’ve chosen a better day to arrive.”

Just when I was about to offer a retort, the crowd suddenly rushed forward, their squeals turning into roars.

“Oppa!” The screamed, holding up banners like their lives depended on it. “Oppa! Look here!”

Then, like a collective stampede, the crowd pushed and squeezed, chanted and stomped.

People usually think that the part where the song builds up towards the chorus is the most exciting part, if done correctly. But no one ever realises that this is the most important part of music. It could make or break the entire song – the chorus is nothing without this build up.

I lost my balance.

“Yixing!” Tao screeched as he bent down. “!”

I think Tao knew this as well, cursing and swearing and “if only it had been another way”.

I groaned, wincing as my back became the doormat to this loud crowd. The guitar, being broken on impact, couldn’t help me as people stomped all over me, getting to the point where I couldn’t see anything anymore.

“Stop! Can’t you see he’s injured?!” Tao yelled at the crowd, none of whom looked like they cared. But then again, why should they? I doubted that they could even see me anyway.

With tears running down my face, I out.

It turned out that there had been a celebrity group arriving at the airport. I learnt this from Tao, who told me that they were quite a popular group, recently debuted and just came back from interviews overseas. So that explained the crowd. I also learnt that my spine had been injured and that I had to stay in hospital for a while, which wasn’t a great start to my dream-chasing, but something I could tolerate. I could get better right?

But like those folk songs my mother liked, things really weren’t that simple. Nothing was ever that simple. Flowers weren’t just flowers, twigs weren’t just twigs, and mountains weren’t just impressive slabs of earth that appealed to the human eye.

“Your wrist is broken.”

“But it can be fixed right?”

The doctor shook his head. “No.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of the bones on your wrist are shattered, and while your wrist will heal, it means you can no longer do certain things with that hand.”

And just like that, all the music in the world stopped playing.

Author’s notes: Crowds of fangirls are scary! Here it is, the first part of Allegro is up. It’s a little short, but I really couldn’t make it longer without it sounding repetitive. Besides, I kind of enjoy cliff hangers. Stay tuned for the next update! :)