CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

Mark Conely

MARK CONELY WAS BORN in Chicago, the son of a nearly bankrupt taxi driver and an alcoholic at the worst level that life had provided up to that moment in human history. His mother was — in her heyday — a respected classical piano teacher, nowadays just a woman who tried to keep her son alive in her dream since her grandparents...

To have a famous musician in the family... and preferably rich too...

Her mother never complained about anything, and the fact that she was not a musician of worldwide reach, nor of success close to the average one, much less financially, was her choice to give up her career for her family, more especially, for her husband, which led to her being severely criticized by her parents.

MARGARETH BURNS was born in a quiet home, her parents were musicians from the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra and they performed an average of four times a week, which forced her to raise herself, studying piano under her father's guidance when he arrived at the night he shared with her all musical knowledge.

— Congratulations, dear, you are doing very well.

She smiled and replied.

— Thank you, Dad, one day I want to be as good as you and Mom.

— You're going to have to study hard to reach your mother's level.

— I will go.

But her mother knew her daughter would never stand a chance.

— Why do you deceive our daughter?

— She may not have your talent, dear, but she works hard.

— There is no effort or logic in the world that would make someone multiply something from scratch.

Margareth was listening behind the door and cried profusely all night and promised herself that one day she would make her mother proud on a stage.

That year she was selected to play a simple piece by Bach on the piano called — Minuet in Sol — a beautiful piece and it had everything to do with that moment, she stood before the audience and bowed and looked at her father who he nodded as if he were saying telepathically that he was with her and that everything would be all right, but his mother was motionless, her petrified face showing neither joy nor sadness.

She sat down at the keyboard and played the song, which for many lay people was a well — played piece, but her mother clearly saw her daughter's mistakes and halfway through the song got up and left.

When the song ended, her parents weren't in the audience.

Her father was waiting for her at the door.

— Where's Mom?

— She had to rehearse for the festival we're playing next week.

'She didn't like my performance, did she?'

Her father knelt in front of her, gave her a hug, and said in the kindest way one could speak to a 12-year-old girl.

— Did you hear the audience applause? — That's what matters.

But for Margareth, her mother's approval was all she wanted.

WHEN HE TURNED 16, at a school party, he met Noah Conely and it was love at first sight.

He's the one I'm going to marry...

But when introducing him to his parents, it was clear the frustration in their eyes, even his father who had always been kind to her rebuked the boy.

— Are you sure this is what you want for your life?

— I love you father.

— That's not what I asked.

— If we don't want love, what do we want then?

— A future, naive girl — said the mother brusquely — all he radiates is failure, look at him.

But Margareth didn't have that ability, she was the epitome of what was the blindness of love and after that conversation her mother never spoke to her again.

She just didn't know that the only good thing that would come out of the marriage would be her very talented son, Mark.

Nothing more, nothing less...

For the love had been at first sight only on her part, her husband didn't even nurture a physical attraction, perhaps of souls.

SINCE VERY EARLY, Mark breathed music into his house, even his father was once a musician, a frustrated bar — house guitarist who thought he would make a living in Chicago night playing from bar to bar dreaming that some scout from some record label would find him. to hire him and he would find success, but the only luck he had in the bohemian life in those days carrying a guitar in his hand was meeting his wonderful wife, Margareth, and having a beautiful son with her.

What came after that as a consequence of the music was pure bad luck or bad luck...

Who knows the two together...

THEY WERE MARRIED and life was very good for both of them, especially after a few months they discovered that Margareth was pregnant. Unfortunately, they didn't know that it would be a high — risk pregnancy, but as they had some faith in God that everything would turn out well, everything turned out well...

In a way...

However, Margareth lost her job and dedicated herself exclusively to her son and Noah started working with a taxi to raise some extra money that the nights didn't bring, however, the nightlife sucked almost everything he conquered, whether with women, alcohol and drugs.

Margareth was not a complete musician and much less brilliant, but she was a dedicated and disciplined teacher, her students after two years, almost all of them already played better than her — which made her happy with the gift she had, however, due to this she knew that students in her hands were only temporary, as much as they liked her, to grow in music she had to take classes with better people.

Her parents were very frustrated that she had abandoned her studies and a scholarship she won due to the contacts they had at the most renowned universities where they played with the Chicago Philharmonic Orchestra, but Margareth had found the great love of her life, she had a beautiful son., that was all, no matter what anyone's opinion, for her happiness was summed up in that.

Margareth felt fulfilled by that, however, the only person who never managed to develop was her. Life had given her several talents, but not the one she dreamed of so much and that frustrated her as a person, she always dreamed that one day she would play in front of a huge audience, but finally, she ended up facing her big nightmare.

MARGARETH HAS NEVER BEEN ABLE TO stare an audience in the face, the experience of seeing the whole school laughing at her at her first performance when she was just ten years old left her disturbingly shaken for the rest of her life, at twelve, when her mother walked away in the middle of the night. presentation was the coup de grace in her dreams, even when teaching, Margareth had to close her eyes to not see that the student was looking in her direction while typing the notes on the piano.

Over time, he came to realize that it was much better to see music with eyes closed and heart open.

WHEN MARK WAS six years old, his father bought a second — hand violin — it wasn't the best, but it was good to start, and another, that violin was the only gift he had from his father in his entire life — and he started to take lessons with a friend from the orchestra his grandparents played.

A friend as frustrated and broke as she is...

Coincidence or not, there was a saying on the outskirts of musicians that said:

Musicians without talent are attracted and distracted...

His mother had taught him to read sheet music even before he knew how to read and write his own name, with time he ended up discovering that it was much easier to read that bunch of scribbles that only he understood.

WHEREVER he went, Mark took his violin, even gave it a name:

— Pastorius...

At school, instead of playing soccer or other games with the boys, Mark would study music, scales, and harmony. Many girls loved to see him play — despite being a boy considered ugly and skinny — compared to the jocks and bad boys in the class, the music helped his self — image a little, but many boys hated him for all that freshness because of a piece of stick with rope.

But Mark lived in his own private world, a world where melodies made him forget he had an alcoholic father, a broke and talentless mother, he forgot the countless nights he went to sleep with his stomach growling with hunger and even the passions that he didn't even have the luxury of having, because if he didn't even have the money to eat alone, maybe invite someone to dinner with him, he could only dream and study to have the wings that his dreams said he had.

When he was ten years old, while his mother was teaching, he went to visit his grandparents during a rehearsal and saw his grandmother play a song he had never heard and was fascinated, it was Capriccio nº 24 by Paganini.

— This song is beautiful.

Nicolette Burns smiled at the sight of her grandson, something about him exuding something even she would never have.

— Do you know how to play, dear?

He nodded.

— Honey, don't do this...

a Stradivarius for the first time in his life.

— Show me what you know, let's see if you're not useless like your mother.

The boy smiled, saw the sheet music for Capriccio No. 24 in front of him and played. Some people who were talking around them stopped to see the boy wonder.

— It's impossible for someone to play that song at ten years old.

But Nicolette replied:

— So we're witnessing a miracle right in front of us.

ONE DAY, one of the school thugs, Kevin McCain, broke his violin pole in his back, the mark was stuck in his skin like a tattoo for two long weeks, but the grudge passed the next day, that was his biggest flaw and at the same time its highest quality:

He couldn't keep holding grudges against anyone at all...

Mark got up and continued typing the notes on the frets without the stick, with the technique that became world famous because of Edward Van Halenna guitar, two hands, because he knew that the most important thing in the study was the hand that typed the notes and not the hand that made the melody.

At least that's how he imagined it...

The school principal said:

— It's all your fault, Mark, for bringing a musical instrument to school, this is a place to study what everyone else studies and not bring an instrument as expensive as this, and another, you have to interact with other people, that's life, it all starts at school. In my opinion, you're not even born to life yet, boy.

In no time Mark opened his mouth to complain, question or defend himself as he listened to the useless chatter of that woman who visibly dragged herself through life without dreams.

Who said I want your opinion... — thought Mark, getting more and more annoyed with the director.

He nodded and said:

— I apologize for the inconvenience I caused you.

And he left the room as if nothing had happened, because in fact that was how he felt, because if it weren't for a coordinator who had seen the situation, he wouldn't even have done anything against the aggressor, he would simply ignore him and move on with his life.

Simple as that...

The next day, Mark had a brand — new stick that his mother bought by selling the radio they had, and he continued to play his violin in the breaks and in the lessons he least liked...

Which were almost all...

MARK'S GRADES were the highest in school, oddly enough, since no one had ever seen him studying at any time-except music-let alone at home.

What many people did not know is that music is pure mathematics, the scales all followed a complex logic and when looking at the mathematical problems of Physics and Chemistry, I could simply see their formulas in the air as if they were harmonic scales.

When he took his first IQ test, the teachers were scared because he knew more about math than most of them.

His only problem was his oratory, because when Mark opened his mouth in front of an audience of more than three people without his instrument to encourage him, he stopped, absolutely nothing came out, not a single sound. Even in everyday life he had a slight stutter — only when he was very nervous.

He wanted all of his mother's qualities and not her flaw...

Over time Mark learned and adapted to his imperfections, especially after he befriended Anthony, a boy who had dreamed of being a great actor in Hollywood since he was a child, his fame at school already did him justice from the early days, he was handsome, elegant and loved to speak in public, all the girls loved him.

And he adored them reciprocally...

The friendship was further strengthened when Josie appeared in their lives, shortly after they met, really, they were never the same...

None of the three were...