music room.

Pov Spencer; music teacher.

In the music room, there weren't many participants, and all the new students would give up after two months without progress. Most instruments were donations that Spencer managed to get from some friends. Spencer, a graduate of a prestigious music university and a state worker for two years, must complete five years of state work to apply for a better position within the state circle—despite being highly talented in music, he's terrible at interpersonal relationships.

But one thing he does well is teaching people. The path as a music teacher is open to him; after five years of work, he can apply to a better teaching school, allowing him to study and work simultaneously.

He noticed young Billy and Connor cleaning the place with great dedication in his studio. The new kid has an intriguing voice—not the majesty of singing but something that can touch the soul with just a few words. With some practice, he can surely improve his voice.

How good it is to be young.

-Have you finished cleaning already? Now you can study in peace. Connor will come in and practice the drums until 4:00, then he'll close the studio and head home. It's been a long time since he visited his mom. -

Billy and Connor entered the room.

Young Billy quickly approached the synthesizer, causing a bit of panic in Mr. Spencer; it's his baby, and if any of the kids break it, it surely won't be paid for.

Jumping from his desk in a hurry to save his beloved synthesizer.

-What are you doing, young man? - said Spencer, somewhat nervous.

-Oh, I just wanted to learn to play the piano. It's the first time I've seen one, and it seemed amazing, - said the boy, Carson.

Spencer could only sigh; well, the piano would get bored on the first day.

-Ahhh, well, you should ask your teacher if you want to learn to use it. Although it may not seem like it, your teacher can play nine instruments perfectly. Sometimes I give piano lessons to some private students, but I can teach you piano on the condition that you behave well, - said Spencer.

-Promise, - said Billy. This guy is cooler than he looks.

-Great, well, I'll teach you the basic key to loosen your fingers. First, you'll practice with your non-dominant hand, then with your dominant hand, and we'll continue with both hands at the same time. This exercise is called fingering, dear boy. Come, sit, and continue with the scale just as I've taught you. -

Billy sat down, looking like a monkey perched on a tree. His hunched posture almost gave Spencer hives. These kids nowadays don't even know how to sit.

-Straighten your back, Carson; adjust your posture. Relax your arms. Whenever you sit, you must have an upright posture, kid. Adjusting your posture is important. Now continue with the scale just as I've taught you, jumps, one, two, three, and four. Repeat, from top to bottom. Pay attention to the sounds you produce; the keys must be touched clearly. On one and two, - said Spencer.

-Of course, it's simple, - said Billy.

-Simple? It will take you weeks to perform that scale perfectly. But well, he doesn't expect him to do it; most kids give up after a while. It's better to start now, - thought Spencer.

Returning to his desk, studying sheet music continued, and for the past two weeks, he set out to create a special song. He started with the piano but understood the difficulty of creating something like that, so he began with something simpler—the guitar, with a few possible chords. Understanding creation is something that has challenged his abilities.

The teacher got lost in the drum beats and piano sounds. Oh, how beautiful it is to live among music. He glanced at his watch, and it was 3:30. He would check the kids' work; Connor loves music, but he doesn't know to what extent. He has shown quite an improvement in the eight months he's been in the correctional facility.

Spencer's heavy footsteps sought out Connor's drum set first, still performing with great skill. Jazz on the drums is a challenge.

-You're a bit out of tune, - said Spencer.

-Maestro, - said Connor.

-Slow down your movements and improve your use of the cymbals. Avoid stridency; harmony is everything. Keep doing what you're doing. We have half an hour, so practice one last time, - said Spencer.

A few meters away, next to the window, Billy practiced the piano.

-How are you doing, young Carson? - Spencer asked.

-Well, I've learned a lot, maestro, - said the boy, repeating the fingering the teacher had shown him earlier in the afternoon. First with his non-dominant hand and second with his dominant hand.

-What do you think, maestro? - asked Billy.

-Ahhhhh. Have you trained before? - Spencer said, quite moved by what he had just seen—a damn prodigy, not someone illuminated by the Holy Trinity.

-It's my first time, - said the boy.

-Let's add a note, just like this, -- said Spencer, sitting next to the boy, adjusting a scale with the black notes. -- Come on, give it a try. -

The beginning was modest; he tried two more times, a third, and a fourth. About four more attempts were made, but evidence of progressive improvement was visible.

-Adjust your hands like this, - said Spencer.

-Oh, you should have told me earlier, - said the boy, repeating the movement, failing in the attempt. But gradually, his technique improved.

-Yes, now with more smoothness, -- said Spencer. -- This way, whenever you try to play a piano piece, do it gently, kid. Try to do it this way. -

A challenge, given the complexities of the movement. In a struggle, Billy managed the exercise with great difficulty, but with a skilled teacher, his talent, already four times faster than the average person, multiplied another two times with good guidance.

-Wow, kid, you've got the gift. Try this scale, as long as you're careful with your hands, as I showed you a little while ago. Rotate your hands gently. Do your best with your movements; make them gentle and precise. Don't hit the piano too hard; the sound will come, - said Spencer.

Billy did his best to refine his movements.

-Excuse me, sir, but it's already six. We have to be in the dining hall for dinner, - said Connor.

Teacher Spencer saw the sunset through the windows; the weather was already cold. Not only was it the weather, but there was also no daylight left in the day. As he saw it, it wouldn't be long before nightfall.

-Ahhh, I got hypnotized by your skills, kid. You can come tomorrow; I'll be here to teach you again. Now, everyone, let's go. We have to leave; Superintendent Charles will nail us, - said Spencer.

While he hurried to tidy up the music room, which had previously been an attic, with Professor Spencer's expertise, it was now a beautiful hall.

The children exited through the door, and Spencer followed; he was running late.

-See you later, professor, - said one of the guards.

-Hip. -Professor Spencer was startled.

-See you later, kids. Keep up the good work, - said Spencer.

-See you later, professor, - said the guards in unison.

Spencer rushed down the stairs, being careful not to stumble on the old steps that had quite a few irregularities. He had had some good scares.

-See you later, professor, - said one of the guards who was guarding the entrance, who curiously was named Rico.

-Rico, how are you? - said Spencer.

-Good, professor, finishing my shift, - said Rico.

-I can give you a ride, Rico. I'll be in the lounge talking to Charles in the cafeteria, - said Spencer.

-Thanks for your offer, professor, I'll leave with the kids. Gonzales will take us, - said Rico.

Without his uniform, Rico looked strong. Compared to the short and chubby music teacher, there was no comparison.

-Well, without further ado, see you later, - said Spencer, nervously on his way to the dining hall. Charles was a good friend; he would have to show him his progress as a music teacher, artist, and assistant to Superintendent Charles. His duties were somewhat sporadic, like the regular teachers: Beins, Halley, and Mauricio, each responsible for a specific class.

...