The Pianist of the Lost Hearts

Chapter XVI

That night, the audience was busier than usual. There were murmurs of gossip floating in the air, whispered in the ears, so that the very polite and upright members of the elite would not feel embarrassed by their appearance in front of other groups of aristocrats sitting at their respective tables. What were the reasons for the unrest? Whispers spread throughout the hall about the strange disappearance of the pianist, who she had not played the night before in front of a full house. The ladies gave venomous looks when they mentioned the pianist, with haughtiness and arrogance in her words.

The maestro watched from afar, sitting at the bar, sipping his usual iced Viennese coffee, at the same time he sat there every day, when the hands of the old clock pointed to nine in the evening. The tips of his long fingers tapped the wooden surface anxiously, following his left leg that was shaking with nerves. There was no sign of the pianist, no clue in his field of vision. His wide eyes watched everywhere, attentive and apprehensive, while in his mind his voice murmured: Where are you Mélodie? Appears... For me. At that moment, his heart began to pound loudly in his chest. His eyes widened and quickly darted towards the corridor that led to the maze.

The sound of slow but steady footsteps reached his ears. On the wall, a majestic silhouette was drawn against the light, whose walk was that of a queen, whose owner was completely familiar to him. Melodie. A smile of relief appeared faintly on the curve of his lips when he saw the short and slender figure outlined by a dress whose fabric color was different from the usual black, being a metallic purple that shone in the light of the chandeliers, shining hints of silver. It was a silky dress that gracefully outlined her curves and flowed with her steps, the decor was in a heart shape, framed by the long sleeves tight to her slender arms. Her neck was adorned with a small and delicate golden pendant, shaped like a treble clef.

Ludwig's heart was beating so hard in his chest that it almost burst out of him, feeling the heat flooding his body. His lips were open and his oriental eyes were wide and entranced by the beauty that the pianist shone that night. It was a vision that was so beautiful that in his mind there was no work of art to compare it to, not even the most impressionistic works of Van Gogh. The words had escaped his mouth and his hand was still in the air, with the cup of coffee steaming, close to his lips.

Silence erupted throughout the hall in unison and all eyes were directed to the pianist who calmly climbed the stairs, stepping onto the stage. She turned her body towards the audience, with her impeccable pose and expressionless face, and bowed before heading towards the majestic grand piano.

She sat on the bench and placed her foot on the pedal, extended her arms and delicately placed her long, slender fingers on the white keys. Finally, she closed her eyes and began to strum the legendary, brooding melody.

As the unshakable and nostalgic peace broke out throughout the hall, enchanting everyone present in an environment that almost seemed like a dream that took them away from all their sorrows, the invisible weight that had until then pressed on Ludwig's shoulders gradually disappeared, calming the his heart.

His wide-eyed eyes couldn't look away from her, admiring the hazel eyes that focused on the dance as her fingers hovered over the keys. The room was completely silent during those minutes of the performance, until the last strummed chord.

When she finished, the hall was filled with applause. However, amidst the agitation and enthusiasm of the audience, Ludwig continued to pay attention to the pianist. He noticed the long, tired sigh that she let escape her lips, and the tension that gradually disappeared from her body, but it quickly returned when she looked up and came face to face with Madame, who was sitting at one of the tables. near the stage, whose blue eyes glared at her furiously.