Sweet Desire

01 Nimble fingers

"Good morning, Mrs.Kang." I squeezed out a polite smile and bowed slightly to my homeroom teacher, a fat middle-aged woman, who walked by. Each time I wanted to spit in her face, but I knew this snake was carefully watching my every move.

I kept nodding and smiling at the students as I walked down the hallway. Many of them were very well aware of me. My looks, my 'kind nature' and my mother made me quite famous in this pretentious art school. For a moment, my smile managed to slip, but as soon as I realized it, I returned my lips to their former position. The position of a fake smile.

Your reputation must be impeccable. My father's commanding voice appeared in my head. If it suffers, you will suffer too.

It's funny.

How I'm nothing more than a trophy daughter to him.

And how he makes me pretend every time I leave my house. Makes me put on the mask of the good girl, in which I am perfect. Perfect in the eyes of people around me. I know it because they are always quick to shower me with compliments.

They never suspected that my true nature is nothing like this mask, that's how I am good at pretending. So good, that it sucks up all my energy.

I was itching to take it off...

But I couldn't do that. My father would never let me.

And it was driving me crazy.

I consoled myself that soon it will be over. Just a little longer and I'll be free. It's a pity I wouldn't be able to witness my father's reaction when it happens.

There was some time left before class started. As usual, I went to one of the practice rooms on the same floor as my classroom. I wanted to be with only myself for a while, to regain the energy I spent doing unpleasant things. And the practice room was a perfect place for this.

Because not many students had the desire to play the piano at 7 am...

...apparently not this time.

I was about to go into the spare room when the sound of the piano came from the next room. For a split second, I froze. The melody was too sorrowful, and the pianist played so passionately, as though they were pouring out their real feelings.

Someone got dumped? I snickered.

But at the same time, I felt envy. No matter how hard I tried, no matter which means of expressiveness I used, I never managed to play so emotionally. And it irritated me that the piano teacher kept bringing it up.

You play like a robot, flawless yet devoid of emotion. I frowned, recalling his favorite remark.

Idiot. Сouldn't even explain to me how to play with emotions, all he said was just feel it. Bullshit. How am I supposed to feel something I almost never experience?

I pushed those unpleasant thoughts out of my mind and focused on the present. Normally, I was indifferent to other people's piano playing, but for an unknown reason, I got a strange feeling about it now.

Curiously, I opened the door and peeked inside. When I saw the pianist, my heart skipped a beat and then hammered faster with anticipation. I wasn't expecting it to be her.

My mouth fell open into a wide smile, and it wasn't fake this time.

Fate loves me today? I couldn't explain this opportunity any other way.

I eyed the girl, sitting at the piano with her back to the door. Her long silky hair flowed freely. I spent so much time observing her that it wasn't difficult for me to recognize her even from the back. Perfect posture, a fragile figure, and long fingers, as though she was born to be a pianist.