If there was one thing I understood after the first scenario with the conductor, it was that seeking perfection was a curse.
Many strived to be perfect.
The desire for perfection was a deep human trait, though the intensity and expression of it varied widely from person to person.
Inherently, such logic was flawed.
Even though people strived for perfection, nothing was ever perfect.
Achieving perfection was almost impossible.
Many understood this simple truth and, as such, gave up when they got close to it.
This is enough.
To me, it’s perfect.
But…
There existed those who didn’t believe in such a notion.
People or beings who let their inability to reach perfection consume their minds and thoughts.
Their reality…
It was filled with nothing but anguish and despair.
With just the singular thought of perfection completely consuming their minds. To the point of madness.
The conductor was one such person.
I stared at the reflection before me. From its sewn eyes and sewn lips. I didn’t understand then, but I understand now.
No voice could tarnish his piece.
No sight could influence his sound.
He sewed his lips and sealed his eyes.
To hear the music all around.
And…
To drown the world outside.
…The madness had reached a point of no return. All the conductor could think about was reaching perfection; his life driven by that one singular thought.
I couldn’t relate to such a thought process.
I wasn’t perfect.
I neither strived to be perfect.
I just wanted to live.
I just…
I blinked my eye slowly.
That was a lie. I could relate a little. I thought back to the game I had recently developed and thought about all the reactions I managed to see on the internet. The screams, the police calls, the… everything.
I started to understand.
…The feeling of wanting to do more.
Better. More perfect.
Blinking yet again, I stared at the conductor’s image before me. He didn’t say anything while he looked at me through the polished surface of the piano.
I was starting to understand better, and unknowingly, my back began to hunch over.
I didn’t really understand why.
Dang—
But as I played the next note, something about it felt different.
It felt crisper.
Sharper.
“…..”
My finger twitched. I felt a certain pain settle into my chest. I raised my head to look at the reflection on the piano.
The conductor was there, his baton in the air.
When did…
“Haa…”
A long breath escaped my lips.
The twitch in my finger persisted as I played the next note, its sound expanding further throughout the room as it lingered for a few seconds longer.
That sound…
’It sounds so good.’
I silently swallowed my saliva. My mouth was strangely dry as I looked at the keys before me. I wanted to hear it again.
I wanted to hear the same crisp sound from before.
And so I tried again.
Dang, Dang!
My hands moved on their own. They danced across the keys, pressing down as the notes echoed in the air.
“H-ho.”
My chest trembled as the notes drifted in the air. Staring at the reflection before me, the conductor waved his baton.
He was…
Conducting my piece.
Dang!
I began to follow his lead.
…My back hunched further while my hand started to tense.
The more I played the music, the more I started to feel my hands become light. Each note of the melody unfolded with a fragility that made it seem as though the keys were made of thin glass, ready to shatter beneath the slightest pressure.
I started to be afraid.
Afraid of making any mistakes.
The mere thought of pressing too hard made my heart ache.
It made my mind swirl with all sorts of thoughts. Consuming it.
The more I played, the more I understood.
The reason for the conductor’s perfectionism.
It was to…
Feel complete.
Within the emptiness inside the minds of others, perfection was a means to fill the void. It was a means to give purpose. To… give proof of existence.
Because only those who achieved perfection could be written in the history books.
Acknowledged.
…And that was all the conductor really wanted.
He wanted to be acknowledged.
’So let me do that for you.’
Dang!
I once again added pressure to the keys as the notes dragged into the air with even more force and sharpness.
The conductor remained in front of me, his baton waving slightly.
I followed its lead.
…The conductor knew which tempo and rhythm I had to follow in order to strive for perfection.
Da Dong!
My hands moved fluidly, pressing onto the keys with steady precision. I felt sweat drip down the side of my face as I played the piano.
The closer I got to the ending, the heavier the weight on my chest.
I couldn’t mess up.
…I had to be perfect.
I felt my breathing quicken as those thoughts entered my mind.
“Haa… Haa…”
It was getting hard.
But as if possessed, my hands continued to move, their movements becoming even more fluid. The world around me had long faded.
The only thing was the piano in front of me and the conductor standing not far off, as a certain darkness embraced our surroundings.
I continued to play.
My movements were swift, my execution seamless, and most importantly…
I was perfect.
Dong!
But…
’No, this isn’t enough.’
Something didn’t feel quite right about the situation.
I looked towards the keys in front of me and the conductor in front.
Something was missing.
But what…?
What exactly was it missing?
The answer came to me shortly after as I paused and looked around, the darkness around me fading.
That’s when I saw it.
The faces of everyone around the ballroom, directed towards me. Not a single person was looking at me.
…And none of them were dancing.
’Ah, I see.’
Dong!
I pressed down on the key once more.
It was them.
They were the missing piece to my perfection.
The ones to acknowledge it.
My audience.
***
With the exception of the melody coming from the grand piano in the ballroom, the surroundings were quiet. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the Jester by the piano.
The dance had long stopped.
In that moment, it felt that any extra noise would tarnish his piece.
Nobody dared to make a sound.
But at the same time, their expressions couldn’t help but change as they saw the changes happening to the Jester as his back grew more and more hunched, his hands curling, and his shoulders rolling.
The sight was sickening to watch.
…But at the same time, nobody could tear their gaze away from him.
’Just what is he doing?’
’…Why is he acting like this?’
’He’s a freak.’
Their stomachs churned as they stared at the host, who was blankly staring in the direction of the Jester.
His reaction said it all.
But it wasn’t like this at the start.
At first, the piece felt normal. Boring. But something about it changed halfway through.
It was during the same time that the Jester changed, as something about the notes that played in the air felt entrancing, mind-numbing.
Zoey struggled to keep her eye away from the Jester.
All of a sudden, she recalled her previous words.
’Your palms are sweating. Nervous?’
’…Am I onto something?’
They felt laughable now. Nervous? No, the opposite most likely.
He was probably excited.
Excited to display this before them.
Dang!
And with each note that struck, her mind grew more and more blank.
She couldn’t extricate her gaze from him, and in that moment, it felt as though the world centered around the Jester.
They were merely spectators to his world.
To his piece.
And then—
Dang!
The last note struck, gently spreading throughout the ballroom.
“…..”
The silence dragged on as everyone stopped moving.
All thoughts were blank as the note lingered in the air for a few seconds after the last key was pressed.
They only snapped out of it when the note finally faded, and they raised their hands to look at the Jester.
“….!”
“Ah…”
“What is…!?”
It was also in that moment that they saw it.
The long and slender figure that stood on the opposite end of the grand piano, its slender arms resting onto the top as its sewn eyes and mouth stared directly at the hunched Jester, who slowly raised his head.
And soon…
Their eyes met.
Under the stares of everyone in the room, the Jester stood up from his seat and looked at everyone watching.
Everyone was staring at him.
Acknowledging him.
This was…
The perfect piece.
His perfect piece.
He bowed.