The Nightingale and His Golden Cage

Never ending wishes

Music such a beautiful escape. when I want to think I have my methods, but when I want to live, music is a is the best way. Music, such a sweet escape, a taste on your tongue of freedom as the unbroken promises of beauty are released through the words of the song, the tones of the piano, the notes of the cello. The melody of the soul. Painting a smile on everyone's face, even when the song they are producing isn't perfect. Such a human thing. Something to be proud of.

My fingers glide over the piano in a passionate harmony of sound and movement. I close my eyes and it is truly beautiful if I may say so myself. I slowly open my eyes and take a deep breath as the music fades away and my hands stop moving. I hear a chuckle behind me. I smile to myself and turn around. Cecil is leaning against the doorframe. "That was magnificent Marius." I smile and thank him. He sits down in the comfortable chair next to the piano. "How have the last few weeks been?" He asks with a smile but I know he truly doesn't care, he truly isn't interested, he is simply being polite and kind.  But I comply willingly and reply, just as politely. "quite alright. Nothing new really" "Well than shall we commence?" Cecil asks with a smile, this time genuine. I nod and smile back, looking briefly in the stormy grey eyes of the dark blonde man.

He puts the sheet music on the piano, written by hand as always (Cecil likes to do that.) "This is la Companella by Lizst and technically paganini, I wanted to give you something a little more difficult." He says with a smile. I look at the notes and play the music in my head. I smile when realise I've heard this before, I think I have played this back when I was younger, of course I know how to play it. "I know this one!" I exclaim enthusiastically. Cecil frowns and nods "Go ahead." I give the sheet music back and start playing. I have always preffered to play by ear. After I finish Cecil looks at me baffeled. "I knew you were good but....this....this....." I smile shyly. "I try my best." "I should ask your father if you are allowed to give a performance in Palais Venais." I smile with pain in my heart. "I haven't been there since I was seven." The composer chuckles "Oh come on dear, hold your head up high! Talent like this can't be hidden. Letting it go to waste would be a crime against the muses." "I don't think my father would care about them." I say cynically. "Come on Marius" He says with a smile "dare to dream!" I shrug and shake my head with an slight smile. "At least one of us does."

"Well, If you know this one already I might have something else for you he gives me another score. I look at it and see that it is unfinished. "Do you want to play the violin or piano?" I look at the scores and eventually decide on the violin. Cecil sits down by the piano and we start to play. the harmonising instruments have a beautiful dynamic as they find their way, through the music like a river through the mountains. An unfinished masterpiece, a silent melody of hope.

I could describe the feeling with a hundred idioms and a thousand similes but none will truly capture the tranquil happiness om my heart. What a truly sweet escape, another world, not to be afraid, freedom in isolation.

Cecil smiles "I know it's not ready and I know it's not perfect but I wanted to share it with you. I hope you enjoyed it." "It's a masterpiece Cecil one of the best you've ever written. You shouldn't feel like it isn't perfect I think it is utterly perfect. It is incredible, be proud of it! It'll go down in history Cecil. I promise you." "You're far too kind, you can make anything sound friendly and sweet." I laugh "I am absolutely certain that is terribly untrue. I can't possibly be that kind dear Cecil" He laughs. "You don't trust easily" he says, still chuckling. I smile bittersweetly knowing full well that I trust too easily.

He grabs his pocket watch. "Oh no, how time flies!" I smile, "That's a shame, but I am certain you have a busy day ahead of you. Let me accompany you to the door."I say with a smile, standing up. Cecil stops me, "Marius, your talent is to special to be wasted we cannot keep it from the world, I'd deem that a crime against humanity." "Well, I......I'll ask my father about the possibility" "Good I reckon you have more influence on your father" He says as we an walk through art room to marble staircase with the burgrundy red stair and carpet runner. I nod while I know I don't have more influence on my father than he has. We talk about his last concert and I silently wish I could attend a real concert. I wish many things many of which I know I won't have and never will.

We walk out of the doors and the kind sun shines on my fragile white skin I flutter my eyelashes for a few second. My eyes have always struggled with sunlight. I do not understand why, but I don't mind it at all. It makes me feel vulnerable, human. A servant puts a parasol above  my head protecting my eyes and skin from the demise I wish to have. I bid Cecil goodbye and watch as the carriage slowly dissappears.

I wonder why I long for the things I know can't hove. But I believe that is something human. I wipe the tear from my face and walk along the large pond with the fountain. I look at the trees and to take breath of the odour flowers. I have so much beauty in my life. I am such a fortunate person, I have a beautiful place I can call home, pockets full of money and I could get anything material in this world on a whim. But my wanting has not stopped, no my desire for things I can't have is even greater. I want so much more. I want to be away from palais l'Etoiles, I want to be in the busy streets of the world the books describe, I want to see other countries and other people, I want unpredictability, But the things I envy most are not all those stupid things, those dreamy things. No, what I really dream of is not foolish freedom. I dream of a loving mother who encourages me to be me, who I can trace my fingers over her face and recognise her in the dark, I wish for a to mother who embraces and consoles me, A kind mother, a mother I remember, a present mother, a mother like Helen Graham in The Tenant of Wildfell Hal. I want a dedicated father who makes efforts for me, I want a father who visibly loves me and doesn't hesitate to be there for me, a father unlike my own, a father like Bob Cratchit from a Christmas Carol. And than my last wish is my own Mr. Darcy a man, a companion, somebody who loves me more than I know. Somebody to fill the awfully empty spots of the bed, to talk, to entertain, to fill the silence, to understand.

We arrive at the several stairs leading up to the temple of Aphrodite, or venus, Whatever you prefer I turn to the servant and order him to go away. "But the sun" he says I chuckle "I'll be careful and there's enough shadow." He nods and leaves. I begin to ascend the broad stairs. they're interrupted every so often they  by a platform with stone floors, greenery and statues. I eventually arrive at little dome that protects the lifelike statue. I look closely at the marble face of the godess of Love, Lust and Beauty. I wonder if there's a higher power and why the worst sinners are the ones who insist that going to church is necessary. I also wonder who this statue was modeled after, I choose to believe it was modeled after mother, my father's aphrodite.I wonder if she is, or was. She might even be dead. She must be modeled after he, I must believe this modeled by my mother, it would be the last thing I have left of her, aside from the blurry imagine my mind has stored so far away. The only thing I remember is her deep and sweet voice singing me lullabies and teaching me lessons. I will never forget her voice but I once must have believed that about her face, now those memories lie comatose in my mind. I trace my fingers over her face and close my eyes and recognise every dimple and imperfection on the face of the fodess of perfection.

I get startled as I feel a hand on my shoulder. I immediately look up. It's Octavio and my tame fox Renard. Yes he's called fox, yes, because I speak mostly french I litterally call him Fox, No, I am not ashamed. "You startled me Octavio!" I say with the chuckle while saying it in the sign language we invented so many years ago at the same time. Octavio answers with only the signs, he has parmantently paralyzed vocal chords. "shouldn't you be inside? I thought your would arrive soon." He signs. I nod and pet Renard who stay by my side at all times. (well, that is, when he's awake.)  "Will you accompany me while we walk back?" I ask, looking at the slightly dark skin with white patches. I've always thought they suited him very well. "So how was your lesson with Cecil?" He asks "Great, as always." I say. "I hope Francois will drop by today" I say. Octavio smiles cynically. "He won't" he signs I stick out my tongue and he feigns offence, "He will" "I dare you to bet he won't" he signs. I chuckle I give him a hand. "We have a deal". while Renard and I enter the palace and Octavio stays in the garden to do his job.

When there are aristocrats I tend to detach myself from reality. I try my best to detach myself fully from my humanity. That make them just a bit less insufferable. They all have such a strange way of behaving some seem enchanted, others are trying to make me fall in love with their daughters (while their sons seem like a better fit) and others, like the ones  we have today, feel like they want to sell their soul for a part of me. As if they worship me. Some even have the nerve to ask for a strand of of hair. But I won't go crazy. I will remain wise, I remaim calm, I remain kind. Nod and smile that's how I survive. I don't even dare to call it living

Yes, that is a day for me. And it to starts again the next morning. Avever- ending cycle of unhappines

Oh and yes, Octavio won the bet.