I didn’t know what it was in life that I should be keeping close to heart, or what to appreciate the most, but it’s definitely true when people say that you only know how important something is once it’s gone. And it hurt, only because it was the only thing I knew how to do and knew how to live by, and having it taken in a blink of an eye just left me lost, and all meaning of life left me too. It used to be where my life revolves around, it’s where my universe is centered. But now, a moment without it felt like a stab in the heart, like an offensive mocking. I could feel the world laughing at me, pointing at me particularly and pitying me. The world seemed to expand, making the echoing laughter bounce off the four white walls, creeping up even in my sleep to haunt and torture me. It’s the only thing I could hear now, the only thing that kept waking me up sweating and bewildered as I stare at the white ceiling, and how I wished to hear nothing anymore.

“Kyuhyun!” I stopped playing as my father’s voice echoed through the house, my hands frozen just above the piano keys, the last note slowly dying into nothingness. “Can’t you stop playing even for just a while? I can’t concentrate on work!” he said angrily, hitting the doorframe’s edge with his fan. I sighed, I understood that his interest in music is as close to nothing, but my patience with his constant nagging of I should have pursued another career is slowly and dangerously thinning.

He was a respected professor in an exclusive university, and his huge income is the reason why our family’s doing great in life, and why we could afford my majoring in music in an exclusive university for music. He knew the moment my mom and I went home when I was a child after the recital that I had completely fallen for the piano, with music, and he was very happy for me then. He was even the one who bought me my own piano and paid for the private tutoring. But everything changed when I told him I wanted to pursue a career in music, to major in piano. His face contorted to that of a deep frown, sheer disapproval etched on his eyes. “You can’t be a pianist, Kyuhyun that’s nonsense!” he said, arms crossing over his chest in total authority.

“But I want to be a pianist, it’s what I’ve been dreaming since I was a kid.” I said, eyes looking directly at my father’s angry ones. I didn’t know why he was suddenly really angry, of all the years that he’d supported my love for music, this has been the first time that he disapproved what I wanted to do. I thought he’d be happy that I knew what I wanted to pursue as a career, but the deepening of his frown and the harsh letting out of his breath said otherwise. Why was he so against me this time?

“I only put up with your interest in the piano because I thought it was just a phase, a hobby!” he boomed, hitting the coffee table with his hand and I automatically flinched. “How do you think people will react when the only son of a respected professor in an exclusive university decided to be a pianist? It wouldn’t look good! No, you’re taking education as a course, Kyuhyun.” He said with so much finality he even stood up from the couch to leave the matter like that. But I was having none of it, I wanted to reach for my dream of being a pianist, I wanted to be able to play on stage someday, and though I wanted my father to be a part of that dream, if he’ll be so against it I would be more than happy to leave him out of it. What ticked me off was the fact that my father is more worried about other people’s reaction of his son pursuing a career far from what he’s achieved. Sure I’ve already expected that kind of reaction from him, but I never thought that my father would be one to pay much attention to how people think of him. He was a respectable man and a professor, that was already a given. I didn’t see how people would respond negatively of me wanting to be a pianist. His friends knew how much I was interested in music; it was the only thing we talked about when they turn to greet me at dinner with them.

“I don’t want to be a professor, I want to be a pianist.” I said as I clenched my fist so hard from keeping my voice even I was surprised it didn’t sound louder, it sounded calmer than I wanted it to be. My father stopped in his tracks to look at me, his eyes were burning holes in my face and I looked back at him, unwavering. I wanted him to see that I can stand firm about my decisions and that I really wanted to do this. We looked at each other for a long time, he’s probably judging my actions and I’m just waiting for his verdict. And if he still ends up refusing about it, I’ll just have to find a way to study without his help.

“You have to graduate with flying colors,” he said with a defeated sigh, hand going through his still thick but graying hair. I let out a small relieved breath. “One grade below 2.0 and you’re shifting courses, are we clear?” he asked, eyes looking at me seriously and I frowned. Does he think that I won’t be taking my studies seriously that I would fail or receive lower grades? “I said, are we clear, Kyuhyun?” He asked again, arms crossing over his chest as he stared at me and waited for an answer. I nodded as I looked at his eyes and he left, and I collapsed on the couch.

===============

“Why do you always look so serious?” I asked Kyuhyun as I, again, sat beside him in the classroom. Second period just ended and we have an hour break before the third period, then it’s lunch time. Kyuhyun was once again trying to bury his face on a new sheet music that the teacher had given two days ago; it was for our midterm recital and he was so into studying it that his face was almost melting into the paper.

Kyuhyun gave me a look when he tore his attention away from the paper. “And why are you so laid back when it’s almost midterms?” he asked with his usual uninterested voice before giving all his attention back to the sheet music, his hand drumming on the table like he was playing the piano as he read the notes.

I gave Kyuhyun a shrug. Touché.

It’s not that I was feeling lazy and all to actually study, but that’s what I do at home – study the piece with my mom. And if I actually do it too at school, then I think I’ll lose my sanity and end up talking through music notes. I don’t hate studying, it’s just I believe that I need some break from all the new pieces stuffed into my brain all year. That, plus too much studying actually make my head hurt. And seeing Kyuhyun’s forehead creasing as he read further into that sheet music makes my face hurt. Does the man take a break, at all?

“What about taking a break for a while?” I asked, gently tugging on the sheet music on Kyuhyun’s hand, and he only glared at me as his grip tightened around the paper as he said a solid no and continued to read.

I didn’t know when I started to hang out with Kyuhyun – if you count watching him reading through a sheet music as I sat beside him to be hanging out – but here I was, sitting at the exact same chair I sit every free time we have, watching Kyuhyun’s face contort into a frown in full concentration as he ignores my every single attempt to a conversation. I didn’t know what it was that drove Kyuhyun to give all the time he had to – in his words, perfect – his playing the piano, but his perseverance to keep his high marks scared me instead of inspiring me to do the same. Sure he almost played like a pro, he could even have his recitals with flying colors if he wanted to, but there’s always something lacking whenever he plays, and as time goes by and he continues to do what it was he’s so concentrated to do, it takes away Kyuhyun’s chances to see what it was that he still lacks. I’m not in the position to tell him about it, only because we’re not even what people could consider as friends yet, we’re more like acquaintances for now. But it’s really saddening to know that he’s so detached whenever he played… he’s there, but not completely there.

He feels the emptiest when he plays.

And it’s scary because his expression as he plays says otherwise.

“Just for a while Kyuhyun, you can study the piece again later.” I said and completely pulled the paper from his grasp and sitting on it lest he tries to retrieve it from me. I’ve seen how pretty his smiles are when I first heard him play – it looked so real and so pure that I actually forgot that he was playing as I lost myself in his smile, and though his playing has improved, his smile and expressions when he played turned faker by the day. He looked at me with anger in his eyes, hands clenching on the table. And before he could even say anything, I held up a finger for him to stop. “You’ll get it back after a break, Kyuhyun.”

He gave me a look and though the crease on his forehead stayed, the frown on his face softened and he finally calmed down. I smiled at him, hoping he’ll return the gesture but he didn’t. He only tilted his head to the side and lifted a brow at me, “What do you want, Sungmin?” he asked.

“Let’s play a game.”

“I don’t play games.”

“This one’s fun, don’t worry. It’s called twenty questions. I’ll ask you first.” I said and pulled out a paper from a notebook I brought. I wanted to know Kyuhyun more. I wanted to know why and when he started to treat playing the piano like an obligation instead of something he loved to do. I could barely remember how he introduced himself at the music club months ago, he said he loved playing the piano, that the piano was his first love. But just like that, his playing sounded empty to the ears, it felt cold to the heart. Kyuhyun lost his reason to play, and somehow I wanted to know why. “Do you like music?”

===============

I looked at Sungmin as I silently wondered if he’s simply teasing me or just plain curious, but I find his question absolutely absurd. “I love music.” I replied with a straight face and not a single doubt tainting my tone. It’s true, and probably one of the most absolute things in my life. If I didn’t fell in love with music, or the piano, then I don’t know what else there is for me to do, and I’m one hundred percent sure that I still wouldn’t agree with my father’s want for me to take education as a career. Sungmin looked at me and nodded, writing down something on his notebook before he looked back at me.

“Your favorite piece?”

“Chopin’s Waltz of the Puppy,” and Sungmin chuckled at me as he wrote something down again. I raised a questioning eyebrow at him but he only shook his head at me before he continued.

“Favorite pianist or composer?”

“Chopin.”

His next question was what left me speechless. It made me question every single decision I had made to be where I am now. It made me doubt myself, wonder if what I’m doing now is what I wanted to do all along.

“Why do you love music?”

Why.

Why do I love music? Why did I love music?

Yes, it was fun. But it wasn’t the main reason why I fell in love with it.

Do I need a reason to love something? Surely, not.

“It’s fun,” is what I replied, but every single bit of my being was screaming otherwise. My core was hinting on another reason, screaming the real reason, but even if I shut every single sound I was hearing, I couldn’t for the life of me hear it. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew the answer, but as if something else was hiding it away, I couldn’t see it. I didn’t know that this day would come, because ever since I figured out that music was something I’d be doing and wanting to do for the rest of my life, my reason was safely tucked inside my heart, kept safe from my father’s prying disapprovals. And yet here I was, shaken by Sungmin’s single question that made me realize the horrifying truth of what time and pressure had given me.

Forgotten.

I had forgotten why I loved music.

I was too caught up with trying my best, into giving my studies every single drop of my abilities to keep my grades up – because it was part of my father’s deal – that I’ve pushed aside my reason as why I played the piano in the first place. I couldn’t look away from Sungmin when I wanted to take back my answer because he had already written it down on his notebook. I could only look at him with wide eyes, and I could feel my heart beating erratically inside my chest.

How do you forget why you loved something?

Was that even possible?

Apparently, yes, it is possible. I was a living proof of that.

Finding all the necessary energy to make my body move, I stood up from my chair and dashed out of the classroom, faintly hearing Sungmin’s screaming of my name, but I didn’t look back. I was afraid that if I did, I’ll forever lose what it was that I already lost. I wanted to retrieve it; I wanted it back in my life. I ran my way to the piano room, the only place I thought I was the happiest, the only place I could call my sanctuary. I entered the room breathless, the grand piano standing proud in the middle of the now empty room. I walked closer to it, suddenly feeling so scared that my heart wasn’t beating a tad faster like it always did a long time ago – how long has it been like this? I stared at the black piano, reveling on its beauty that always seemed to take my breath away but now refused to do so. I lifted a hand to touch the keys, hesitating a moment before letting my fingers brush across the black and white keys.

My heart shattered.