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This was probably one of the scariest moments in Luke’s life. Maybe not the scariest…but it was definitely up there. The night he had been practicing for months for was finally here. He gripped onto the neck of his violin as he slightly peered out from behind the curtain that hung loosely from both sides of the stage he would soon be standing on. There were…a lot of people. Too many people. Why were there so many people? He scanned the crowd trying to find his parents, but he could barely see from where he was standing, so he simply retreated back from the curtain and waited for them to call his name. He could feel himself start to sweat. His heartbeat was quickening. What if he tripped when walking onstage? What if he drops his bow, or his violin? What if he plays a wrong note, or he’s completely out of tune, or he starts rushing in the middle of the song?
What if he disappoints everyone?
No, he had to stop thinking like that, that would only make it worse. Deep breaths. He could hear the applause of the audience and was suddenly aware that he would be playing next. His name was called, and he steadily walked up the steps onto the stage in front of him. Deep breaths. He tried to look as grown up as he could, taking the softest yet firmest steps he could, focusing on just getting to his spot on stage. He tried to avoid looking at the rows and rows of people in front of him, pretending like this was just him, in his room, alone. He shut his eyes tight as the backing piano started to play out, focusing on each note, and when it was his turn to play. He softly brought up his violin into playing position, gently resting it beneath his chin. He kept his eyes shut as he lifted his bow, and started to play the song he had practiced so many times. He followed the sound of the piano, gliding through the fast part, mellowing out as it got slower, moving his bow wildly and pressing down on each of the strings, making sure no note was out of place.
He firmly yet softly pulled his bow against the strings one last time, letting the note go a bit longer than it needed to on the last note of the song. He lowered his violin and bow, and gently started to open his eyes, just as the crowd started to clap. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the harsh spotlight that had been placed on the boy, but after a second of standing there stunned, he immediately started searching for his parents. They had promised him that they would be there, and even said that they would take him out to his favourite restaurant afterwards. He scanned the first row, not there. His eyes followed to the second row, not there either. He glanced over every row, every seat, even along the walls to see if they were standing, they weren’t there.
His parents weren’t there.
Where were they? They said they would be there. They promised him. He frantically looked everywhere, every place that two adults could possibly be, and they were nowhere. He suddenly realized how bright the light was, how it shone straight into his eyes, he realized how loud it was, how hot it was, how scratchy the fabric of his clothes were, how tight the collar of his shirt was, practically threatening to strangle him. He could feel warm tears stinging at the corners of his eyes. No, he couldn’t cry. Not here. He felt dizzy, like he might vomit. He had to get off the stage. He clumsily walked as fast as he could offstage, trying to pretend that he wasn’t practically tripping over his own feet and crying. He had to get away, somewhere quiet, without any people. He started to quicken his pace as he felt the tears in his eyes growing, threatening to trickle down his face if he didn’t get away faster, but trying to navigate through a crowded backstage while feeling dizzy, like you might breakdown, and also attempting to keep a violin safe isn’t that easy. He blindly fought his way through the other kids and instructors backstage, mumbling out quick “sorry”s and “excuse me”s while trying to reach the washroom. He finally set his violin down in a safe spot and practically raced to the washroom, flinging the door open in desperation and crawling into a stall before slamming the door shut, and locking it.
As soon as he shut the door on his stall, the tears started to fall. They fell fast and they felt uncomfortably hot on Luke’s face. He didn’t know what else to do. He sat down and pulled his knees up to his chest, forming himself into a sad little ball, and sobbed. The tears were somehow coming faster now, making his face scrunch up as he let out a sad whimper. He buried his face deeper into his arms as he continued to cry, wishing that his parents were somehow there, and that they had kept their promise to him. But they hadn’t. They weren’t there. They had broken their promise.
He heard the door gently open. He quickly sucked in his breath and tried to be as silent as possible.
“Luke?”
An oddly familiar voice cut through the stale silence in the air
“P-professor?”
Luke stammered out. What was the professor doing here? He had an important lecture tonight, so he couldn’t possibly be here right now…right?
“Ah, there you are, Luke. Are you alright? You seemed…out of it once you had finished playing, and I saw you rush in here afterwards. Is everything okay?”
He could see the professors shoes from underneath the stall door. There was absolutely no way he was here. Maybe it was Don Paolo playing another one of those weird disguise tricks on him….no, that couldn’t be it. Maybe he was just imagining the professor being here. Maybe he had fallen asleep on the bathroom floor and he was dreaming. Maybe-
“…will you come out here, Luke?”
The professors voice rang out against the silence again. Maybe the professor was really here. After a moment of consideration, Luke slowly picked himself up off the floor and wiped off his face with his sleeve. He undid the lock on the door and slowly pushed the door open, half expecting to see no one else inside the bathroom, but no. The professor was standing right there, in the same top hat he always wore.
“There you are, My boy!”
He said, just a bit too happy for the situation, or at least Luke’s situation, who was still attempting to figure out if this was real or not.
“I must say, that playing was excellent, my boy. I can tell you practiced very hard, I could’ve mistaken you for a-“
Luke suddenly ran up and wrapped his arms around an unprepared professor, who simply stood there for a moment, not fully understanding what was happening just yet. Luke wrapped his arms tighter around the confused professor, and let out a small sob as the tears started to come back, even more fierce than before.
“Luke, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He slowly pulled back from the boy tightly hanging off of him and lowered himself onto his knees. He placed a comforting hand on the boys shoulder as he continued to cry into his hands, refusing to show his face at all.
“It’s just…I…my parents…I don’t understand…they promised”
was all Luke could force out of his mouth, stuttering and blabbing, simply trying to explain what had made him so upset.
“Deep breaths my boy, deep breaths. It’s alright.”
The professor gripped Luke’s shoulder a bit firmer as he heard him slowly take in shaky breaths. His breath started to slowly even out, although remnants of tears still remained in his eyes. He attempted to take a steady inhale as he began to explain.
“I-I’m sorry professor. It’s just..my parents aren’t here. Mum or dad. I know it shouldn’t upset me this much…but…but they promised. I was so excited to play for them.”
His voice got weaker as his timid sentence ended, still refusing to make any eye contact with the professor at all.
“Yes, I did notice that they weren’t here tonight. I just assumed that they had a seat farther away from mine, but…why wouldn’t they be here?”
More tears began to roll down the young boys cheeks as he stumbled through a simple “I don’t know”. He let out another painful sound as the tears began to fall faster and faster.
“Oh Luke, come here”
The professor slowly wrapped his arms around the weeping child, who rested his head gently against the crook of his neck as he silently wailed.
“It’s okay, my boy. I know. I’m here.”
Was all the professor could say as he gently rubbed comforting circles into the boys back, quietly shushing him until the sound of his crying started to soften. He gently pulled himself away again, until he was looking directly into Luke’s eyes, who was sniffling and trying to clean up his tears and snot with one of his small white sleeves.
“Luke. I’m very, very proud of you. Not many kids your age, or even adults for that matter, could do what you did tonight. And I’m sure that your parents are very proud of you as well, no matter where they are tonight.”
Luke softly sniffled and finally looked at the professor, his eyes still red and puffy from all the crying. The professor gave him a gentle smile. He felt tears prickle at his eyes again, but not for the same reason as before.
“Th-thank you professor.”
Was all he could muster up. He felt as if just hearing the word “proud” come out of the professors mouth could make him start bawling all over again, but he managed to keep himself at least decently calm.
“Of course, my boy. Now, how about we go get a cup of tea, and if I can remember, I was in the middle of teaching you how to play chess yesterday, correct? How about I finish showing you how to play, and we can finally put that chess board to good use.”
Luke nodded enthusiastically at the request, smiling, although it was quite obvious that the boy had just been crying.
“Alright then, go grab your violin and I’ll meet you outside.”
The professor stood up and quickly gave Luke’s hair a ruffle.
“Yes professor! I’ll be right back!”
Luke seemed to light up at the opportunity to be with the professor for even just a bit longer, and as Luke bounded out of the washroom happily, the professor couldn’t help but smile to himself a bit.
He was truly very proud of him.