The Piano Lesson

With his head buried still in Yunho‘s chest,

Jaejoong replied, in a muffled voice, “I missed you, Yunho.” And he looked up at his brother, the big brown eyes, wide and sweet.

Smiling, Yunho rubbed his back, “Alright, alright. I missed you too, Jae. Come on, let’s get in the car.”

With a nod, Jaejoong agreed and went to open the door, but Yunho stopped him for a moment, bending down to zip the jacket that Jae, in his hurry to get to Yunho the instant school let out, had only half put on. And while his brother fumbled with the zipper, Jaejoong struggled to get his other arm in the sleeve. By the time Yunho had gotten the zip to hook up, thinking all the while of the damage Jae was putting this coat through, Jaejoong had managed to get his arm in. And very gently, for there had been instances where Jaejoong zipped his chin in the process of zipping the coat, Yunho pulled the zipper up.

Now they got in the car. Inside, Jaejoong bubbled happily about the things he had done at school today. Half watching traffic and half listening to his brother, Yunho went through the things he still had to do before he could go home, where he had not been yet today. The next stop was piano practice for Jaejoong.

Always on Mondays, Jae had piano lessons, for the last ten years. His teacher, a very short kindly woman in her late sixties, named Mrs. Morton was Jae’s teacher, and had been since the very beginning. Several times, during the course of those years, she had suggested that Jaejoong, with all his talent, would benefit so much more from a teacher of a higher caliber. Yet every time she suggested it, Jae had a fit. He wouldn’t have any other teacher than her.

Still driving, Yunho wondered if Jae would make him stay for the lesson today. Most of the time, Jaejoong was insistent that Yunho remain for the duration of the lesson. However, it would be nice today if that wasn’t true so Yunho could go to the store and knock off yet another stop he needed to make before they could go home.

Turning to his brother, who was describing how scary this one movie had been that they watched in class today-the dog died in the end, Jaejoong cried-Yunho interrupted.

“Jae, I’m gonna drop you off at Mrs. Morton’s and run to the store. Is that fine? Cuz then we don’t have to go after practice.” Deep down, Yunho knew this was a futile argument. Jaejoong loved going to the store.

With a gasp, Jaejoong turned to face his elder brother. “No! No! You can’t go. Oh, Yunho, you can’t go! You gotta stay!” He was starting to breathe heavy.

Quickly, Yunho replied, “Alright, Alright. I’ll stay. Calm down.” And he put his hand on Jae’s shoulder with a squeeze.

Obviously still upset from his brother’s words, Jae’s next sentence was breathy as he pulled out a picture from his back pack, as if in explanation of why Yunho needed to remain for piano. “Look, Yunho. I drew you a picture.” He held it up proudly.

“Oh! Jae! That’s a great picture. That’s a really good duck!”

“It’s a plane,” Jaejoong replied, very matter-of-factly.

“It is?” Yunho glanced back at the drawing, cocking his head, somewhat. “Oh! It is! Nice job!”

Coming inside Mrs. Morton’s house always felt to Yunho like he was walking into the Land of Perpetual Tea Pots. Mrs. Morton collected tea pots. And while that was a very charming hobby, Yunho often wondered what made a woman collect tea pots when all she drank was coffee. Granted it was a totally random thought on his part, but he wondered it in amusement every single time he walked in. On the other hand, Jae loved her collection and had named several of the pots. Very fittingly, he named one, Mrs. Potts.

The lesson began, as it always did with Jae running up and down the scales at progressively faster speeds. Yunho took his spot in the corner, out of Jaejoong’s sight, so he could focus. Yunho watched his brother’s slender, graceful fingers glide over the keys.

Sometimes, he hated piano practice. More than not, it served to remind him of what his brother could never be. Normal. Each time that Jae sat down at a piano something amazing happened. That naïveté, the one that was leaving him branded “different” for the rest of his life, disappeared. Suddenly, Jaejoong was a young man, twenty-two, in the absolute flower of his manhood, devastatingly attractive. The wide-eyed look was no longer in his face, focused intently, lost in the song he played.

Oftentimes, Yunho had fantasized that this gift Jae had for playing the piano would be the one to propel him into a normal life. Allow him to live like everyone else. Others had done it. Why not Jae? Why shouldn’t he be given the chance to lead a normal life? Why did he have to suffer?

Why did Yunho have to watch it all?

Trying to rid himself of the plaguing thought, Yunho dropped his hands into his lap, clenched.

In a moment, the piece Jae was playing ended as Mrs. Morton stopped him to correct a technique. And just like every time, when Jae stopped playing, the spell was broken. Yunho breathed easier.