Chapter 5: Being Stood Up Isn't So Bad

Chapter 5: Being Stood Up Isn't So Bad

Adolfo's Point of View

Today, Sunday, September 29th, I was stood up for the first time. Honestly, I never thought she would agree to come with me, and although I'm still clinging to the idea that something came up for her, 15 minutes have already passed, and I haven't been able to reach her.

"It's late; I don't think I can wait any longer," I murmured as I looked at the watch on my wrist.

I wanted to wait a bit longer, but in the end, I decided to leave. After all, I had a more important commitment—with my faithful companion, the piano, which would never abandon me.

I arrived at the gala venue; the hall was spacious and slowly filling up with unfamiliar faces. And then I saw her—the most beautiful woman in the place, dressed in a long red gown. Without a doubt, this was the happiest day of my life.

With my spirits high, I prepared to play. My breathing was somewhat erratic, and my hands trembled slightly, but the desire for Sofía to see me was stronger. I decided to start with one of my favorite pieces: "Merry Go Round of Life" by Joe Hisaishi.

To play this piece, I requested the support of a cellist and a violinist.

The hall was softly illuminated by large chandeliers that cast golden glimmers on the elegantly decorated stucco walls. The tables, covered with white tablecloths and adorned with floral arrangements in warm tones, added a touch of sophistication to the atmosphere.

When the first notes of "Merry Go Round of Life" resonated in the room, the murmurs of conversations began to fade. I felt as if the sweet, nostalgic music enveloped everyone in a magical, almost surreal atmosphere. All eyes were on us, and with every key pressed, I felt a mix of intense emotions that reflected in the piano's resonance.

The high notes ascended with a delicate whisper, while the low notes vibrated against the walls and resonated in the listeners' chests. I realized that we had created an intimate connection between the music and the audience, who let themselves be carried away by the emotional narrative we unfolded with each chord.

As I played, I glimpsed Sofía watching in silence. Her face reflected a mix of surprise and admiration. The attendees, some seated, others standing, couldn't help but be captivated. I heard one of the guests murmur to his companion, "The piece is very good; have you heard it before?" Around them, others exchanged satisfied glances and swayed to the rhythm of the melody.

When the last note faded away, the silence in the hall was so deep that I could almost feel it. No one seemed to want to break the magic of the moment, but finally, applause began to fill the space.

I played a few more pieces, and then my replacement arrived, so I could go and rest. A few guests approached me to offer their congratulations.

"You were fantastic, kid. What's your name?"

"Thank you; my name is Adolfo."

He suddenly patted me on the back.

"It was a pleasure meeting you. Keep it up, and you'll go far."

I stepped outside to get some fresh air and looked around for a place where there weren't any people. I really didn't want to talk to anyone anymore. The perfect spot was right in front of me—a small garden. I looked around to make sure no one was there. I couldn't help but let out a big sigh of relief when I confirmed I was alone.

"From this spot, you can hear the piano. How convenient," I said, rubbing my chin.

At that moment, an idea came to me. I was alone, so I simply said it out loud.

"This place is perfect for a romantic date," I decided to accompany the phrase with a grand pose.

"You're right, this place is wonderful. Good evening, Adolfo."

I knew that voice without a doubt—it belonged to the most beautiful person I know.

I slowly turned around, and as I imagined, it was her. "So... Sofía, good... Good evening."

I don't care that she saw me saying those things. That's what I would normally think if I hadn't just struck a ridiculous pose while saying those words.

"Um... I thought I was alone. Could you forget what you just saw?"

She let out a small, teasing laugh.

"Should I?" She leaned forward a little. "Just kidding. It's the first time we've talked, but it feels like we've known each other for a long time, doesn't it?"

It's surprising; it seemed like she had taken the words right out of my mouth.

"You're right."

Before Sofía could say anything, I continued speaking.

"I didn't have any friends when I was younger. It's not that I didn't want any; it's just that it's hard for me to be the first to speak. But when I met the piano, everything changed. When I played it, I felt like I had found all the words I had ever searched for. I know it may seem strange that I'm telling you this, but what I mean is that... you're like a piano. It's easy to talk to you, and it feels like we've known each other for a long time."

There was no response; she simply looked down at the ground.

"Oh, do you hear that song?" I said excitedly.

A beautiful melody was playing.

"It's 'Love's Sorrow' by Kreisler, adapted for piano. It's beautiful, don't you think?"

Sofía looked at me for a moment and then turned her gaze toward the source of the music.

"You're right. I don't know if this type of song is meant for dancing, but..." she leaned forward a little and offered me her hand, "...shall we dance?"

I took her hand as a sign of approval.

"It would be an honor."

The moonlight bathed us completely, as if we were the protagonists of the night.

I held her hand and put my other hand on her waist. We moved from side to side, following the rhythm of the music.

As if we were connected, we hummed a part of the song, and our laughter at that coincidence also synchronized.

I couldn't think of anything else but Sofía. The expressions she made were like those of a princess, though I was no prince, just a simple pianist.

Suddenly, we began to spin around while holding hands.

Just moments before the song reached its climax, we started to slow down and gradually move closer until our faces were almost touching. For better or worse, the song had ended.

"Ah! That was fun, don't you think, Adolfo?"

I collapsed onto the ground, barely able to catch my breath. Luckily, I had taken swimming lessons—I'm sure I wouldn't have lasted long without them.

"Yes...! It was super fun!"

When I said that, Sofía smiled—a smile of satisfaction.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" she extended her hand.

I took her hand. I didn't have to think much about it—I would go anywhere in the world by her side if she asked me to.

"Yes!"

We walked together through the garden, surrounded by the soft fragrance of the flowers. With each step, the leaves crunched beneath our feet, and the shadows of the trees danced in the moonlight. Beside me, Sofía looked even more beautiful than usual; her eyes shone with a curiosity and serenity that made me feel fortunate to be there with her.

I leaned down toward a red rose that grew elegantly by the path, carefully brushing its soft petals. Red has always seemed like a color that symbolizes intensity, and at that moment, I wondered if she shared that thought.

"Do you like red roses?" she asked, breaking the silence.

I nodded with a smile.

"Yes, there's something about them that soothes me. And you?"

Sofía stopped in front of a rose bush with pure white flowers. She observed the roses for a moment before responding.

"White ones have always fascinated me. They have a kind of purity and delicacy that attracts me."

As I listened to her, I realized that her words resonated with something inside me. She was like that red rose I saw a moment ago—she exudes confidence and a strong will.

"That color doesn't suit me," I thought.

"I'm sorry, Sofía. I have to go. I need to keep playing."

I instantly regretted saying that, but I guess it couldn't be helped.

"Of course, don't worry."

"See you tomorrow at school," I said as I walked away, running.