𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗢𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝟏𝟏

Performance 11:
Hilariously Stupid
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Ten delicate fingers dancing idly on the piano tiles, following every note block shown in the book in front of him. At one time it'll slow down on a certain note, and some other times its tempo becomes faster as the audience is unable to move an inch from their seats.

It was beautiful. The way the pianist moved his fingers with such a feathery gesture, or when he seemingly moved them in a more aggressive way, it truly is mesmerizing. It's as if he himself was telling a story to them. A story of love and betrayal.

The music he played sounds completely foreign to them. They had never heard such a melody created- even the classical music enjoyer couldn't recognize the piece that was being played by the pianist. Even if it was created long ago, then without a doubt, this is the first time it's being published.

The music itself isn't the only attraction from the music performance. Although it seems like he was only shifted on his seat, the pianist's body gesture had given a stronger meaning to the melody.

The way he closed his eyes and fully concentrated on letting out the feeling of pure sadness- an antagonizing pain -as he forcefully held the pressure on both shoulders as he slammed all ten fingers on the tiles, giving the audience a good amount of chills as they shuddered.

At that time, all eyes were focused on the only person who sat with hands never leaving the piano tiles for more than two seconds.

His body jolted as he snapped his head up, facing the ceilings with both eyes closed. Sweats on his face fly freely in the air when he snapped his head up, facial expression full of pleasure as he reached the end of the climax.

And when he pulled his head down, there were no longer any note blocks to continue the music, and the performance ended with a loud cheer and applause as the pianist bowed his head in gratitude before leaving the stage.

That was a perfect performance. He doesn't need anyone to tell him that.

He already knew.

Because everything has to be perfect.

Because his feelings don't matter.

All of this is for the sake of pleasure.

As he reached the backstage, one of his friends approached him with a bottle of ionic water in hand as he grinned ear-to-ear at the performer.

"That was very amazing, indeed. Thank you for filling up the position" the brunette thanked him, as the other male accepted the bottle with a small thanks.

Twisting the cap, a gulping sound can be heard as soon as his lips touched the outer side of the twister. He could feel his energy had slowly regenerated, thanks to him.

Kazuma- his friend -looks at him with pure admiration and curiosity as the male stopped drinking. He leaned on a nearby wall as a support and put his left hand on his hips.

He was a second year when he met [Name] in the music room that day, alone with his friend as he taught him basic things for their literature class. Both first years didn't seem to notice his appearance on the doorstep as they were too busy with their own business, before the brunette decided to stay and see how they played.

He decided to help them out just in case they missed something with the notes- looking that he's a part of the music club, but it seems that it wasn't necessary. Because as [Name] giving his friend an example of how to play a simple melody, Kazuma just froze in his place.

He was just playing for a few minutes, that felt like an eternity for him. A blissful moment he rarely feels from watching other people playing the exact same instrument as he played. And at that moment, he just knew that he had to talk to the first year. There wasn't any meaningful reason behind his action, but he just knew that he had to. And then after that small encounter, they started to go out more.