"Beethoven", by Richard Wagner (1970)

Chapter 1

It was in January of 1970, that I, Richard Wagner, had to rent out a room in my apartment to keep up with the ungodly rental prices in New York City. 

When I found out that the MIGHTY Beethoven himself was applying to live with me, I could not contain my excitement. It was everything that I had ever dreamed of! My hero coming to live with me? Wow! I won't forget squealing in excitement as I read through the paper, hopping in joy. I called my friends to tell them about it! I tried phoning my dearest friend and partner in life, Franz Liszt, about this but he couldn't answer. It didn't surprise me, as he was busy touring around the continent.

I didn't bother to interview the maestro before he came over, as I had complete confidence in this masterful genius. Surely, any problems that would arise- if any- would be taken care of swiftly and without issue. 

The smell of incense lightly scented the room as I cleaned the apartment, and set some snacks out and a nice bottle of wine that Liszt had gotten me about a month back from Hungary. I had been waiting for a good occasion to pop it open, and I had found this moment suitable. Just as I had done the final touches on the mantle piece, I had gotten a loud knock on the door, causing me to jump. 

All of the sudden, right before I had the chance to react, the door swung open, and there was the immortal man himself: Ludwig Van Beethoven! I thought it was kind of rude that he barged in, but I decided not to take offense since this is now his living space as well.

"Welcome, Herr Beethoven!" I rushed over, holding his hand and shaking it earnestly, "I am your biggest fan! I hope you will like living here!"

"Guten Tag," He said with a stern expression on his face. Then he turned away, adding to my confusion, dropped his suitcase on the floor, and grabbed the expensive bottle of wine on the table.

"O-Oh, I see you have noticed-" I was stopped in my tracks when he opened it, and without hesitation, put the bottle to his lips and quite almost chugged the delicacy in about seven gulps! I stared in complete shock, absolutely speechless, as he wiped his stained lips with his sleeve, dropped the bottle on the table, and stumbled over to my bedroom, and passed out in my bed.

"W-What the fuck?" I muttered as I had just heard him snore very loudly. His snoring concerned me all the more because of how out of rhythm it was, where even to the untrained ear, it signified the possibility of sleep apnea.

I stared off into the distance as the sickly snores filled the silence, collecting my thoughts. I snapped myself out of it, trying to push down any sort of concern that arose within myself about the possible predicament I quite deliberately put myself into without any preparation or thought.

Feeling very upset, I threw the bottle away, and went to the phone. I dialed the number that my dear friend was temporarily using, and tried to get an answer.

"Hello?" I heard the man's voice.

"Franz!" I gasped in relief, "You won't believe what happened just now!"

"Oh, Richard! I'm glad you called!" He said with a quickness in his tone, "I can't really talk right now, but I promise that I will get back to you."

"What's going on?" I scratched my cheek.

"Well," He sighed tiredly, "I have to leave the hotel in about five minutes, and I'm going to be talking with the manager at the theatre where I'm performing."

"Well..." I grit my teeth together in nervousness, "I won't bother you, I know you're in a rush."

"Thank you for understanding, dear." He chuckled.

"No problem!" I got irritated, "Um, please call me when you can."

"Of course!" Then without a beat, "Talk to you later."

Then we shared our "byes" and hung up. Immediately, I went over to the couch, plopped down, and leaned my face into my hands as I groaned. Just when I heard a gasp followed by loud snores, I slapped my hands on my lap, and silently cried out, "Please, God, I don't want this to be a problem."

I turned on the television to watch a show to ease my worries. The news played as I stared dead eyed for about a couple hours at the screen. Eventually, I was flipping through the same few channels hoping that something would interest me. That was when the older fellow German man had walked in and stumbled over to the fridge. My eyes went wide as I turned the television off, went over and stopped him.

"Sir!" I said, "If you need anything, I can make it for you."

"WAS??" He cried out in our native tongue.

Then I remembered in my embarrassment that this poor musician was deaf. So, I grabbed a notepad from the drawer and took a pen out, scribbling down what I had just said. And just before I could show him what I had said, he was already finished downing a bottle of chardonnay. He dropped it on the floor and stumbled back into my bedroom and immediately the abominable snores came back. I shook my fists and howled, my patience wearing extremely thin. I could not understand why and how he drank so much in such little time. And even more so, the audacity he had to take my drinks without asking, much less a thank you.

I gave up and laid down on the couch, closing my eyes, feeling sleep come upon me. 

It felt like no time had passed before I was jolted awake by a loud pound on the keys of my piano. I collected myself and sat up, looking on the stand beside me to see what time it was. When it revealed it was half past three in the morning, I immediately stood and went to the notepad and furiously scribbled on it, "I love your playing, Herr Beethoven, but could you please play later perhaps? The neighbors are sleeping and I don't want us to disturb them."

When I showed it to him, he stopped his playing and sprung up to me, grabbed me by the collar, and screamed, "MY MUSIC IS POETRY! IF YOU FUCK WITH MY POETRY, YOU FUCK WITH ME!"

Then he dropped me, and I fell to the floor. He then started to pound again on the piano. Normally, I would become absolutely livid with rage, and fight back. But, since it came from my hero, I couldn't help but feel tears rush down my face. I ran into my bedroom, which was now messy, and without a second thought I fell face first into my pillow and sobbed out loud, feeling inconsolable.

I had then realized, at that moment, that I truly had made a mistake.