Everyone stopped in their tracks the moment a familiar melody rang in the entire room. Ari, who was nearly at the door with her nephew, halted before turning around.
Her eyes widened when she saw the hooded man sitting in front of the grand piano and playing his heart out. Zeno poured all of the annoyance and anger he felt in behalf of Gaby toward playing the piano.
It opened with a blaze. Jagged, violent chords like a landslide crashing through the keys. The rhythm was erratic, causing the crowd to flinch. However, even then, they couldn’t look away.
It wasn’t a pretty piece. It was angry, furious, even. However, beneath the rage was terrifying precision. It appeared like he was smashing the keys together, but they created such a harmonious sound. Every note had a purpose.
Ari even stepped forward to watch him, her mouth becoming agape with shock. The other parents were the same. They stayed rooted in their spot, and they watched, as shameful as it was to do such a thing.
Korain, too, couldn’t dare fathom what he was watching. Zeno’s fingers blurred across the keys. They were moving so fast that it was impossible to see where one note ended and the next began.
Zeno’s whole body swayed with the momentum, his chest heaving as the storm within him increased. At some point, it sounded like three pianists playing at once.
No one spoke. No one even dared to blink.
At that moment, their piano teacher came out of the music room to see where the beautiful noise was coming from.
“Who is playing Inferno?” she lightheartedly asked. However, her breath got caught in the back of her throat when she saw that it wasn’t, in fact, a recording but a real person playing it.
She blinked multiple times, trying to convince herself that this was truly happening. She even rubbed them in case she was dreaming.
“Inferno,” she muttered.
The other parents heard her, and they felt it once more—horror.
Inferno.
A classic piece that nobody dared touch.
It was by a pianist named Theobald Schimmer.
It was something that even some of the most seasoned pianists couldn’t play at all, and even if they could, it was not up to this extent.
This guy, whoever he is, was playing with an eerie similarity.
Meanwhile, Zeno internally scoffed as they all watched in silence. Now, they couldn’t say anything at all, huh? They couldn’t bring their status and money into the conversation.
Zeno had left no room for argument.
He continued the piece, his body remembering. Who knew he still had it in him?
But then again, it wasn’t so strange.
He did compose it, after all.
Mission # 12: Wals-Siezenheim, Austria. Create a piano piece that nobody can recreate.
Back then was the peak of his angst as a Rennis. He had lived a hundred years by then, and he just wanted to disappear from the entire universe. So, in this particular mission, he decided to channel all his anger into this particular piece.
It just so happened that nobody in that lifetime was able to recreate it; thus, he finished his mission relatively fast. He finished at the age of 16, and it was his one and only song.
After that, it became known as the nightmare piece that pianists dreaded. Of course, it could be recreated now, but still, of course, nothing could beat the original.
It just so happened that Zeno was the original.
Bangs had dropped a teacup to the ground, shattering into pieces. Still, it didn’t take away their attention. The piano teacher couldn’t believe that someone was playing this piece in real life. She felt like she could die peacefully because it was one of her lifelong dreams to see someone accomplish such a difficult piece.
By the time he hit the final crescendo, slamming both hands down on the piano, Zeno was breathless. Some sweat dripped down his chin as the last note echoed, trembling in the silence.
Without any word, he stood and gently held onto Gaby’s wrist.
And with that same quiet fury, he walked out. He didn’t look at anyone else anymore. He had already said everything.
The door slamming shut snapped those inside the room out of their stupor. They turned to each other with wide eyes, wondering if they had witnessed the same thing.
Korain unconsciously clenched his fists.
“Oww,” Elah said. “Dad, your hand is on my wrist.”
He quickly removed his grip from his daughter’s wrist; however, he didn’t make any effort to apologize or tend to her. The rage he felt in his body felt like the piano piece that Zeno had just played.
“Who is that?” the piano teacher asked, amazed out of her mind.
The others didn’t bother responding. All of them were ashamed. They had insulted him for not letting Gaby have a private tutor. Well, clearly, she didn’t need one.
“Is it Gaby’s private tutor?” the piano teacher continued to ask. “That was amazing! It felt like a concert at Carnegie Hall. Who is he, really?”
Still, no one dared to speak. That is until Ari answered with a smile.
“Gaby’s Angel,” she answered. “That was her angel.”
Meanwhile, Zeno had dragged Gaby to a park a few meters away from the music school. He was still breathing heavily, but he quickly caught his breath when they halted.
“Angel?” Gaby said, tugging his sleeve.
Zeno turned to her and clicked his tongue. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Gaby merely smiled, her eyes crinkling from amusement. It seemed she felt a lot better after hearing such vile comments from a bunch of so-called adults.
“Because you are one,” Gaby merely answered, not giving anything away.
Zeno sighed and removed his hood. “Well, quit it,” he said.
Gaby only looked up at him with bright eyes.
Zeno shook his head. “Anyway, here you go.”
He placed the keyboard piano in front of her. “Your dad got it for you.”
Gaby’s brows furrowed, and he knelt down to open the black bag. Then, she gasped when she saw what it was.
“My dad… got it for me?” she muttered.
“Yeah,” he said. “Now, go home.”
“But I can’t carry this,” Gaby said.
Zeno clicked his tongue. “Ask your mom to come pick you up or something.”
“She will,” Gaby answered. “I texted her to come pick me up from the park.”
Zeno nodded. “Then, go. I’m leaving.”
However, Gabi kept his grip on his sleeve. “I can’t be alone at the park.”
Zeno clicked his tongue. He wanted to go before her mom arrived.
“You’re 11. When I was your age, I was already doing hard labor,” he deadpanned, recalling some of his lives. “Just stay here where there are other kids.”
“Your mom is near, right?”
She quietly nodded.
“Good,” Zeno said.
“She’s right there!” she exclaimed, pointing behind him.