Melomania

II. The rock symphonic

(Jan)

"So... Jan Horvath..."

The young man who sat on the chair in front of the headmaster was clearly nervous. His eyes, green as freshly polished jade, were nervously staring at the portrait that hung on the wall behind the man the headmaster's desk. The man on the canvas had a dignified posture, his white hand with long, slender fingers, was tucked in the long coat he was wearing. His gaze was serene in a romantic way and the boy couldn't help but feel some kind of pull towards him, a strange kind of attraction. Before he had realised, his hands started sweating.

"Sir Czerny, I..." His words stuck in his throat and he almost choked. His gaze shifted from the canvas and met the stern, calculating gaze of the headmaster.

"You play guitar?" The man asked.

Automatically, Jan took his guitar from next the chair. Its glowing wood and warm strings welcomed him like an old friend as he took the instrument in his lap. For Jan Horvath, this felt like the feeling of a castaway clinging with every fiber of his being to a small, smooth rock in the middle of a stormy ocean.

"I-I do." His voice became more confident as he held his instrument close. "I have been playing it since I was seven and I haven't stopped since. My father played before me and I guess this influenced me quite a lot."

The headmaster raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you want to join The Franz Liszt Music Academy?"

Jan felt he choked once again, but managed to take a deep breath. He didn't know what he was more afraid of: the headmaster behind the desk or the life-like gaze of the portrait behind him. "Honestly, I have no clue. I felt some kind of pull... I just woke up one day and decided that Budapest was the place for me. I still can't explain it..."

"That's a start..." Sir Czerny mused and Jan couldn't tell wether he was sarcastic or not. "Let's see what you're capable of.

Jan stood up and nervously strung his guitar. From time to time he glanced back at Sir Czerny as if he was waiting for some kind of approval. He took a deep breath, in part because he tried to calm himself down, in part because of some kind of strange ritual to resonate with his instrument.

"You got a fast car
And I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere
Any place is better
Starting from zero, got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
Me, myself, I got nothing to prove"

He began to sing as he played, his voice cracking at the beginning of the first verse, growing in strength and confidence with each chord played. When the chorus of the song hit, he raised his gaze as he stamped his right foot and a smile of happiness began creeping up his lips. After all, Jan Horvath was happiest when he performed.

The song finished and Jan was breathing heavily. He looked back at the headmaster and his green eyes shone with pride.

"My, my, what a surprise!" Sir Czerny was clapping, his usual stern and taciturn face was transfixed with a peculiar amazement. "Mr Horvath..."

He stood up and came closer to him. "It's the first time we have had rock around here." He put his hand on Jan's shoulder and gazed at the portrait as he spoke. "He was kind of a rockstar, you know, the first of his time, the first in a long line of trailblazers... You do have potential."

"Really?!" Jan exclaimed, yet he realised he was probably too loud. "I-I... It's an honour, I..."

"You're free to go." The headmaster said looking back at the young man as if he were inspecting some kind of priceless artifact you don't know its use yet. "See you soon, Mr Horvath."

* * *

As he was walking down the hallway, a big smile of triumph was plastered on Jan's lips. His eyes shone with glimmers of pleasure and victory as he thought about the welcoming surroundings of the academy.

Why Budapest and Liszt Academy of Music, Jan couldn't find any explanation. He could have easily chosen to go in his hometown of Ljubljana, that would have certainly been easier: easy to commute, no need to change countries, no need to learn a Finno-Ugric language in less than one year. What Jan Horvath could say, however, is that he felt a certain pull towards here, like elephants do when they are nearing the end of their days, as if this place was imprinted in the back of his mind. That couldn't have probably been the case, as he first had this crazy idea a year and a half ago.

His steps echoed on the marble floor as he walked, slowly getting more and more lost and captivated in the surroundings. He felt... Some kind of energy, a certain vibe to this place that gave him a feeling of grandeur and high, unyelding respect, as if Jan suddenly found himself in a cathedral, maybe even Saint Steven's Bazilica. Lost in thought, Jan was awakened from his reverie by a soft melody played on the piano.

He retraced his steps towards the sound of the music and soon entered a classroom with big windows framed by long, velvet curtains. In a corner, sitting at a grand piano, was a girl with moussy brown hair, draping her long white fingers over the ivory keyboard. As the boy opened the door and stepped in, the melody she was playing was spoiled by a false note.

Jan quickly apologised and greeted the girl, yet she tilted her head in confusion, trying to process the words he said to her. Then, it hit him.

"Oh, sorry!" He said embarrassed. "I-I had no clue... You..."

He reached out his hand in a handshake. "Jan Horvath. What's your name?"

"Miruna." She smiled warmly. Jan took in her features. She wasn't especially beautiful, some kind of beauty that might leave one awestruck; in all words, she was normal, easily overlooked. What made her stand out, however, was her playing and the dedication she showed.

Jan brushed his hand through his blonde hair and glanced at the sheet on the piano. "Chopin?"

Miruna rolled her eyes. "Everything for the piano is Chopin to all of you. Actually, it's Schumann. Kinderszenen. Have you heard of it?"

Jan shook his head. "Never in my life. Or, if I did, I had no idea."

Miruna chuckled. "Then what are you doing here at Liszt Academy of Music?"

Jan took a deep breath.