Finding Harmony

Chapter 1: Music

The first time I learned about Greek mythology, I thought I had fallen in love. It was so poetic and free, like a world where my imagination had no limits. I could conjure up images of Zeus, Apollo, and every kind of creature and god in my mind.

Then, I discovered music. Music became a way to express love without words, a means to grieve for someone I had never met. It could make you smile in an instant or break your heart. It was an art not everyone could master, but those who could wield it had the power to make you feel emotions you had never experienced before.

I discovered music, real music, for the first time at a classical concert. My best friend had dragged me there.

I hadn't had a good day in so long that I didn't remember what it was like. But when everyone sat down and the violinist started playing, I smiled—a genuine smile that made my cheeks hurt. I looked up from my phone and suddenly saw how many people were just... listening. No one was talking, no one was judging; they were just... people sharing a true love for music.

For the rest of the hour, as the violinists played, I didn't look at my phone once. In fact, I closed my eyes and relaxed. I let my shoulders drop and just... listened.

When the music stopped, I didn't immediately open my eyes. I let it sink in; I let myself breathe.

"You like classical music?" I heard a man's voice.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to bother," I said as I got up.

The guy who spoke to me was one of the violinists.

"You weren't bothering. I'm glad you liked it," he smiled.

I smiled back, noticing a twinkle in his eyes as he held his violin close. I excused myself and went to find my best friend.

As I walked, I thought about the recent encounter. There was this twinkle in his eyes; I didn't know why, but every time I looked in his direction, that twinkle was like a contagious smile. You didn't have to talk; you could see it from across the room and feel that smile creeping onto your face.

Maybe this was what it was like to meet someone who was okay with you being different, who didn't seem to mind that you were... you.

The concert continued for another few hours, with pianos, singers, guitars, and many more musicians. All making me think, "I'm finally home."

When the concert finished, it was around nine o'clock in the evening.

Knowing my strict parents, I couldn't go back home.

"Will you be okay?" my best friend Jamie asked me.

"Yeah, I'll probably go get something at the store," I replied, a forced smile on my face.

I never wanted to tell Jamie how broken I felt inside. I didn't want to worry her; she knew that.

"If you want, you can stay for supper. There's plenty for everyone," the violinist from before said behind us.

"Can he? He always worries me with this," Jamie started.

"It's fine, I'm okay, thanks," I cut her off.

"No, no, come on, we have loads to share," he insisted.

"See you tomorrow," Jamie said to me, squeezing my hand before she left.

"Come on, I'll show you where we eat," he said.

"Are you sure it's okay?" I asked.

"Of course. By the way, I didn't even introduce myself properly. My name's Leon," he replied.

"Viggo," I introduced myself as he shook my hand.

I had supper with all of them. Even though not everyone got along well or there were age differences, no one was judged or treated differently, myself included.

"So how old are you, Viggo?" Jim, a guitarist, asked me.

"I recently turned twenty," I answered with a smile.

"Really? When?" Kim, a singer and pianist, asked me with curiosity.

"Two days ago," I answered as I sipped my glass of Cava (I lived in Spain).

"Happy birthday then," Leon smiled, sitting next to me. I smiled back.

The night went by so quickly that I didn't notice I had fallen asleep there, surrounded by the people who had made me laugh and cry tears of joy in just twenty-four hours of meeting them—something my parents had never shown me: love.