The Painter & The Pianist

ix.

CHAPTER NINE

Monserrat and Amadeus walked through the doors to the banquet. Amadeus' eyes searched around the building while joyful excitement jumped around in them both. Then, his enthusiasm came down to a dull content.

"Huh." Amadeus' semi-disappointed response drew the attention of Monserrat. "What is it?" Monserrat said while he resisted a scowl. "Oh, nothing. I...uh...I just expected a bit more of 'pizzazz'."

Monserrat looked over the not so heavily dense crowd to see the beautifully constructed building. He admired the engravings encasing the wall, and loved the historic feel from the chipped and faded paint. 'Pizzazz...pft, this place doesn't need pizazz...' Monserrat thought.

"I think this is a well-aged artisan building, but I suppose you're too artsy-craftsy to see it," Monserrat said as he flashed a smile to show him that he had been joking. Amadeus let out a single sarcastic laugh; then stared into Monserrat's eyes. "I like how your eyes light up when you think about art."

"It's physically impossible for my eyes to light up." Monserrat joked as he began the voyage to make his way to the seating area. As he trailed behind, Amadeus searched the vast room for the musical entertainment for the evening.

"This place is nice, you know. They even have some violins and violoncellos here to play." Amadeus smile widened a bit as he pulled the chair out and gestured Monserrat to sit. "You know, you don't have to say the whole word just say cello," Monserrat said in a corrective tone as he took his seat. "It's still a shame that they don't have a piano," Amadeus chided before he smirked pridefully. Monserrat glanced at him with a chuckle on his lips. "You could've played a good selection if you wanted to," Monserrat said. "I think the only reason they wouldn't accept me playing, is because they couldn't even afford my commission price."

A small man, with a wavy beard that reminded Monserrat of the ocean's dried seaweed, walked out on stage. While Monserrat monitored his beard, have expected it to wash away, Amadeus stared at the man's enlarged gut. He imagined he could hold only the smallest of instruments. 'Maybe he'd make a good trumpet player,' Amadeus thought to himself.

As both the boys finished their thoughts, the man spoke. "We are in a room, and sure, to some, it may just be a room, but to me, it's a future. The young men and women in this room have given their all to art, just for this banquet which benefits Breast Cancer Awareness. No matter the winner today, which was not easy to decide, I believe they will all be winners in life." Then, he took a breath in as though it was his first. 'Maybe he wouldn't be good at trumpet.' Amadeus thought, '...needs the lung capacity.' "I am proud of every single one of the artists in this room." The man smiled with delight. "Now we will commence the food portion of the evening."

"Not like he needs it," Amadeus said, not realizing he had said it out loud. "Be nice," Monserrat said, giving Amadeus a small slap on the side. "I really thought that I said it in my head." Amadeus' face scrunched up in regret. "I'll be back in a minute." Monserrat rose from his seat proudly and walked toward the art pieces placed in a neatly organized pattern before he placed his among the rest.

It was clear from the look on Monserrat's face that he wanted a glass of tea. As he approached the bar, the waitress asked what he had wanted. "An iced tea, please," Monserrat said contently. The waitress gave him an iced tea in a tall glass with a lemon. 'Fancy,' Monserrat thought to himself. Soon after, he found himself drinking the whole thing in no time. "Another one, madame!" He called with an eye twitch.

Meanwhile, Amadeus sat in a bored state. He grabbed the water glass, that had seemed to be just as bored as him, and lifted it over his head. "I'm under-water..." He whispered to himself letting out a chuckle.