Valse Melancolique

The world around me twisted into a thick knot. I gripped the sink with my fingers and closed my eyes as hard as I could a few times until my head started to hurt. It helped. The world stopped squeezing and narrowing; I unstuck myself from the sink, turned on the tap and washed my face, trying not to stain my new blouse. Do not worry! You can do everything! You’re alone, but you can handle everything, believe in yourself! I smiled at my reflection in the slightly foggy mirror, but it did not smile back. It did not believe in me. Glancing at the wristwatch lying on the washing machine, I ran my hand through my hair and jumped out the door. Seven. It's already seven o'clock. These are strange numbers, aren't they? I put on my coat, tied a pink scarf around my neck and walked around the small flat three times, checking if I had forgotten to turn something off. Then I locked the door. The phone buzzed in my pocket, and I, running down the stairs from the fourth floor, pressed it to my ear. “I’m on my way, sun! I’m already on my way!” I got a sigh in response. “You're always late, you know, Stacey?” “I know. Sorry Ten minutes, please. Ten minutes, and I'll be there, Kate. “I'm setting a timer for ten minutes!” I pushed the heavy entrance door and noisily breathed in the cold, almost icy autumn air. The darkness got lost between the pillars of lanterns like a wall and stretched all the way to the starry sky. Leaves rustled under the boots. “May I have fifteen minutes?” “Heaven, Anastasia!” I put my phone into my pocket and ran down the narrow alley to the main road, hiding my nose in my scarf. I can try to get there in seven minutes, but it was dangerous to give Kate vain hope. And to myself, too. Behind the trees of the alley, bright yellowish lights from the windows of high-rise buildings were visible, shining brighter than the stars in the sky. I wasn't sure that I could actually see the stars in a big city. At seven o'clock in the evening on Sunday, when I ran down this alley to Kate’s café, there were even fewer people than the stars in the sky. It was cold. Dump. Autumnly. I blew a white cloud into the air and slowly stepped onto the three steps that led from the alley to the main street. The liveliness of the city immediately flashed before my eyes. Everything shone, glittered and sparkled with a dull, dense light, luring people out into the streets from the thick curtain of the darkness of the night. I used this way to go to the coffee shop where my friend Kate worked (and her cheerful uncle was the owner). She was a waitress, and I helped her, but only on Sundays—the days when there were more people. Today I ran there, feeling something different. Kate’s uncle bought a real piano and offered me (with the immodest smile of self-satisfaction) to practise today. I haven't played for five years. And, running along a familiar path, I kept wondering if I had forgotten how to move my fingers. When I flew into the coffee shop, sandwiched between a bookshop and a boutique with a warm pastel sign ‘Sweet Bun’, I was hit in the face by the warmth and soft smell of coffee and pastries. I grabbed my coat, touched my blouse and looked for Kate. There were many people indeed, but they did not even look in my direction. However, when I started playing, they would either applaud me with delight or kick me out of the coffee shop. The third option is not given. “Heaven! Do you need to be pushed every second, Stacey?” “ No, you can do it every minute. I can remember what I have to do only one minute.” “It's not funny,” grumbled Kate, grabbed my hand and dragged me between the tables. “Uncle is counting on you. More precisely, on your nimble fingers. Soft music will sound cool here, no?” “I don't know, Kate, I'm worried. I haven't touched the keys for three hundred years.” We stopped near the bar, and I said hello to Kate’s friend, whose name I always forgot. He gave me a shy smile, and my friend rolled her eyes. “Stacey, just try. And cheer up. Come on,” she turned and narrowed her eyes. They flashed blue in the dim light. “Alex, tell her that everything will be awesome.” Of course. His name was Alex. “Everything will definitely be awesome. It cannot be otherwise.” Now I rolled my eyes and ran my hands through my hair. “The circus.” Alex shrugged. He could not do otherwise: susceptible to the charms of my friend, he could not refuse her. More precisely, he could, but not in such trifles. The piano was perched against the wall just below the sign ‘Twinkle, twinkle, little star’. It seemed to be new, dark brown, perfectly fitting into the interior. “I even brought you this,” Kate pointed at a soft small teddy bear with a red scarf and a gentle smile with his paws spread as if he wanted to hug everyone. “Very cute, honestly,” I touched the toy with my finger and lowered my hands, lifting the lid, and then quickly fell back onto the chair. White and black keys flashed before my eyes. I exhaled and almost automatically found a place for my hands. Barely pressed the right pedal as if frightened by the piano. But it succumbed. Fingers pressed three keys; the first chord sounded, and I stopped thinking. The music penetrated my body, and euphoria ran through my bones. I almost swooned with every sound, soft, loud, forte, forte, forte, piano. And the piano again. It stopped for a moment, and again the fingers slipped and ran over the keys; the melody flew with the piano's butterflies. I just knew it had to be like that, and the fingers themselves found the right places. The composition is over. I emerged from the half-asleep state into which I plunged each time and looked at Kate next to me. It was impossible to guess what was waiting for me the next moment—applause or a request never to approach the instrument again. “You haven't forgotten anything, Stacey. Well done,” Kate smiled crookedly, waved me with a menu from a table and ran to the kitchen. I took a deep breath and exhaled. And although I had already finished playing, it seemed to me the piano was still sounding in my ears, vibrating, and my fingers were running over the keys. “Hey, play something more,” someone said to my back, and I hummed shyly. Something more? My head was empty as if I had spent all my energy on the previous melody. “I'm sorry,” I spun around on the chair and got to my feet, shaking my head a little anxiously. “I need to go out for a few seconds. Outside, yes. Outside.” My legs, for some reason, became wooden; something was buzzing in my ears. I grabbed my coat, pulled it off the hanger and ran out the door, shaking my head at Kate that everything was fine. I hoped. Without looking ahead, I tripped over a low threshold and almost fell on someone, but someone's fingers firmly gripped my elbow, holding me back. “Heavens, please, forgive me! I did it accidentally,” I mumbled, ducking my head and pushing past the unfortunate person I had bumped into. My head refused to think at all, and when I accidentally looked up and met the surprised gaze of warm caramel eyes, my thoughts hung around like dead flies. Well, Stacey, move! Come on! I listened to the voice of my mind and went outside, inhaling loudly the cold prickly air. It became cold even in my coat; I covered myself with my hands and pushed a yellow leaf with my shoe glistening in the light of the lanterns. What was wrong with me? Why did even moments of happiness bring me some sadness? I knew the reasons. I knew their solution, but that was the end of it. Everything hidden in the past remained in the past. I had to go and play. I had promised Kate. I had to help her. I breathed in the autumn air for the last time and returned to the warm café. Kate glanced at me and beckoned to her with her finger, standing next to Alex, waiting for him to make coffee for someone. I exhaled painfully and took off my coat. “Stacey, do you want to drink something?” My eyebrows lifted. “I thought you had only coffee here.” “But you will drink?” “No, of course.” Kate rolled her eyes in disappointment and turned back to Alex. He broke into a smile. “I'll go and play more. Only something more melancholic now.” “You're all more melancholic now,” grumbled Kate and pulled the white cup closer to herself. “Of course, I love you, but cheer up and raise your head. You will soon scrap the floor with your nose. Did that handsome guy charm you? You bumped into each other at the door so sweetly.” I barely restrained myself from rolling my eyes again because Kate would not forgive me. I clung to the bar counter and looked at my friend's face. “The poor man almost got hurt because of me. What charms are you talking about, Kate?” “You have been suffering for so many years because of yourself, in my opinion. Go and play more.” I had to admit that Kate was always right because she had a rare talent to know everything about me, even if I hadn't told her anything. A few years ago, when she was scolding me for refusing to go on a trip abroad, I asked her if she read minds by accident. Then she stopped scolding me. But I loved her as my best and only friend because she wished me the best and had stayed with me in the most difficult moments of my life. And I wanted to help her the same way she had helped me all that time. I sat at the piano again and began to recall all the compositions I knew. A small coffee shop needed a light, soft melody. No more such a surge is needed. I moved my fingers and started playing little by little, almost not immersing myself in what was raging inside me like a sea in a storm. The music was just playing. People were just drinking coffee and preparing for tomorrow. Monday. I also had to go to work. Why not relax now, even for a second? I forced myself to think about the good and just play. Play until my fingers ached. This moment came after an hour of almost continuous recording of various tunes, starting with well-known compositions and ending with some soundtracks. At nine o'clock, I got up from the instrument and went to the counter. Kate was sitting there, joyfully telling Alex something. The number of visitors had become even fewer, and there would be no one left by ten o'clock. “Will you come next Sunday?” Kate asked, slapping me on the shoulder. “I will come.” “That's it,” Kate turned to Alex and beamed with a smile. “And you said that she might have her own plans. I know Stacey as my own fingers.” Sasha shrugged his shoulders again, running his hand over the coffee maker. “Kate, I'll go, okay?” “Are you already tired?” she pulled herself from a high chair and looked first at the remaining visitors, then at me. “Go, my miracle. I'll call you later, okay? Don't forget to pick up your phone.” I waved my hand to my friend and nodded to Alex. Then put on the coat in the café, pulling the pink scarf tightly. I looked at Kate once more, but she was saying something to Alex, waving her hands like windmills. I pulled the handle and, when the door willingly opened, again bumped into the boy standing too close to the entrance. He looked at me with his eyes twinkling and smiled, slowly stretching his lips as if enjoying the process. “Everything’s okay.” I turned, took one last look at Kate and left the café, drowning in the Sunday noise. “You play beautifully,” said someone from behind, and I quickly turned around. There was only that handsome young man who I had almost knocked down twice. “Thank you,” I shifted from foot to foot. “I touched the piano for the first time in the last five years.” “Do you work here?” “No. My friend works here. It is her uncle's coffee shop.” “And you?” he took a step forward, letting the two girls pass behind him. One of them looked at him and smiled. I wish I had smiled so confidently. “I just help her from time to time on Sundays. The realisation of such a sudden conversation made me a bit uncomfortable. I looked at my phone and smiled awkwardly. “I'm sorry, I have to run. Tomorrow we all have to work. Monday and so on.” The young man narrowed his eyes and nodded. “See you then.” I turned back and literally ran down the pavement, whispering a vague, “Yeah, see you.” The evening turned out to be too emotional for my life. I didn't expect that. But as soon as I got home, all that would be forgotten. I could be sure of that.