The Two Pianists

Chapter Two

"Are you ready for the concert today, Elijah?" Micheal asked. I nodded quickly as he was looking at himself in the mirror.

He was wearing gloves, with a tux. He said professional pianists should always wear gloves because they want to protect your "tool". I guess I agree with that, but not exactly for the same reasons.

"God, who knows who's gonna watch? You better not embarrass yourself," he said to my reflection in the mirror. I looked away.

More like embarrass you, I thought to myself.

"You best get ready, we're going to leave in half an hour."

"Fine," I muttered as I left his room and walked up the stairs to my room. I opened the door and sat on my bed. I sighed and I wondered what to wear to the concert.

I was sure that Camila was going to watch, or someone she knew at least. Camila gets on my nerves. I'm pretty sure she's better than me, but I've only heard her play a couple of times.

Still, I can't be beaten by a girl.

I walked up to my closet and grabbed a random tux. Literally, all I had was tuxedos.

To be honest I should probably be grateful for all the money Micheal has and has given me. But I don't really care. He's the one who forced me into piano because I was good at it. That doesn't mean I like it.

"Elijah!"

I groaned and shoved the tux on. I won't lie, I look good in everything. I quickly brushed my hair and pasted a smile on my face in my mirror.

"Eh...good enough," I said to myself.

I heard someone laugh behind me. "You're not gonna play piano by looking at yourself, you know." I turned about and saw Micheal leaning on the frame of my door.

I felt my face go red, "Whatever."

"Let's go, we can't be late."

He opened the door for me as if I was royalty. I bounded down the stairs.

"Gloves?"

"Oh... I left them on my bed."

"Go get them, we can't be late!"

I rolled my eyes and went back up the stairs. I grabbed my white gloves (which have never gotten dirty, surprisingly), and put them on carefully. Micheal would freak if I ripped them.

I'm not too sure why he was so scared that I'd ruin my hands or fingers, but I was okay with that. To be honest, I like to draw rather than play the piano.

"Elijah!" Micheal yelled.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," I yelled back.

I walked down the stairs and found Micheal waiting for me at the front door.

"What took you so long?"

I shrugged and opened the front door. Our Benz was waiting with our driver. I climbed in, but Micheal took the front seat.

"You ready, Elijah?"

"Yep..."

He looked at me, and I quickly started to practice the notes on my lap. I knew it all by heart of course, but it didn't hurt to practice.

Micheal smiled in approval, but I didn't smile back because he'd know it was fake. I'm not too sure if he knows that I like to draw, and I haven't told him because I don't know how he would react.

Most people would probably be nervous being on T.V. and having hundreds of people watch you.

Well, I'm not most people. I've done this so many times, I've gotten bored of it. But Micheal was a pianist before, so I guess I have to too.

Mom was...

Actually, I've never met my mom. Whenever I bring it up, Micheal just goes quiet. So I've decided not to ask.

The only thing I know was that she was Emily Smith, and she played the violin. I have no idea what she looks like since there are no pictures of her around the house. As far as I know at least.

I'll find out someday, just maybe not today.