[Mister the Tall Pianist]

Part 7

I was playing for someone I believed was a ghost.

But it seems I was mistaken.

I'm glad. 

So I will stand tall for you.

And only for you.

This time around, you didn't want to leave a note, fearing the next one he would leave you would actually make your heart explode in a burst of butterflies and extremely cheesy glittery rose petals and bubbles. It was enough that this one nearly did, you didn't want to take any chance.

But then again... You could be making up your own ideas, right? Such a handsome, talented, cute, shy and just perfect piece of man could not have taken such a liking to someone like you so fast, right? You didn't think of yourself as a person who could stand out from the crowd, not like he could... After all, he didn't even notice your presence the first time you talked; not before you had made yourself known at least.

Of course this didn't mean that you were plain invisible (though he did think you were a ghost...), but rather that people could only get to see what made you different and special once they got to know you better. What could you do more? You were modest with strangers, so it's not like you bragged about what made you so awesome all the time.

You nearly bumped into the music hall's wooden door as you came back to reality.

Today, you had decided not to go up to the tier, but to your favorite place on the 7th row. You had decided to prove him that you weren't a ghost, but mostly you had decided you wanted to have the best place to see him stand tall.

You breathed in before you pushed the door open just enough for you to slip into the room and quietly shut it behind you.

That's only then that you realized how dark it was compared to the other days. Maybe you were the only one here yet and that the last ones who left had shut the lights? At least you didn't have any studying to do for once so it's not like you absolutely needed light. If anything, maybe you could take a short power nap as you waited for Bertholdt to arrive...

So you made your way to the seventh row, not noticing the slender figure standing on the stage in front of the piano. You sat down in your place like nothing was wrong and even took the time to find the most comfortable position to nap...

But you couldn't fall asleep. Why? Because you felt observed. You peeked an eye open to see the dark figure before you, unmoving on the stage.

Your first thought: Oh my Gosh it's Slenderman.

But lucky as you were, you stayed petrified on your chair, staring through the dark with your eyes wide open until a spot was lit to illuminate the figure, blinding you.

You blinked a few times to get rid of the white spots covering your vision. Turns out the presumed Slenderman was inoffensive Bertholdt patiently waiting for you to arrive in the music hall. Meanwhile, he had straightened his uniform and did his best to tidy up his appearance to look his best for you.

Though he couldn't help sweating more and more as you stared at him, still shocked and confused. Maybe you were starting to think that he was a creep?

'Please, God, no...' he pleaded in his mind as he bowed and made his way around the piano and (hopefully) take place with elegance...

You were once again mesmerized as his fingers slowly graced the keys of the instrument with their magic. However, what made the music even more incredible was the man from which it was coming from...

Bertholdt could feel your eyes on him. It made his fingers stiff and twitchy, but the worse feeling was the one of his school uniform clinging to his body. He was sweating so bad and it didn't help that the spot was right upon him. He closed his eyes for a moment, erasing everything around him aside the music and his own feelings...

You thought your heart was skipping beats as you looked at him sitting with his back straight, his head lightly lolling to the soft sound of the music. His melody quickly grew so passionate, the walls around you didn't exist anymore...

He felt as if he was floating amongst the stars, the galaxies around him formed swarms of dark blues, purples, pinks, oranges and bright yellows while the stars took the shape of his very emotions. He couldn't identify well what they were depicting to him, but he didn't feel the need to know it anyway.

He knew he had you listening to help him understand it afterwards.

And it made him feel great.

Unbeknownst to him, you had followed him into his little dream, moved by the music. Though, unlike the other times, you couldn't put your finger on the main emotion, the main motivation driving his fingers across the keys.

You were overwhelmed.

And it made you feel great.

As the melody descended from its peak, you and Bertholdt came back to reality. A moment of silence followed as the musician regained his breath. Then he stood up, made his way back to the same spot where he was standing before to bow again, silently thanking you to have listened to him until the very end.

When you noticed that he refused to straighten his back again, you took all your courage and poured it into your next sentence so that it would sound relaxed and cool.

"Well, Mister the Tall Pianist..." Bertholdt jerked his head up at the sound of his nickname, you smiled. "I've never seen you look so authentic."

He slowly went back to a straight standing position, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He had succeeded. And it was only the beginning...