— I can hear them through the door quite clearly. Maybe, it’s only natural for their young high voices to pierce through everything. Maybe, it’s just because I know this fugue too well not to fill the blanks, while hearing nothing of substance.
“Wow, I haven’t seen you for so long,” she smiles and hugs me, I smile back. “Not much changed here, thought”.
She mentions new repertoire, consisting of an old repertoire plus one modern piece I’ve never heard of. She shows me the score but I don’t understand anything of it: I’ve willingly forgotten all I used to know. After fifth attempt, sopranos figure out their part and rest of the choir joins: their voices are weaker, but they give good foundation. Second sopranos might be lost, altos might be too gentle and shy but a chord rings — louder and louder — to be split again in the next line.
My eyes are still in the notes; I turn the page to pretend I’m interested but my thoughts are with altos. Once it was my part, you know. They’ve lost all their power since then, it seems, now nobody can challenge first sopranos in their ultimate reign over every piece of music — classic or modern. Their absolute tyranny pierce though doors and walls and ring in cathedral bells, while our stand is simple but selfless: G — G — G — A — G. I can’t help but hum it on slow but powerful crescendo.
“Oh, you remember it!” she smiles again, her eyes are full of hope.
“Yeah, it’s simple enough”.
“You should really come sing with us. We miss you so much and I’m sure girls will be happy to see you”.
I almost nod, but then they suddenly stop and, after short silence, start something strange and new. I immediately lose the chord and melody, sopranos and altos; it turns into muttered background noise. Am I deaf? I look into notes, gathering all my thoughts and memories. Am I blind? Nothing makes sense. Tangled in this black web of meaningless sounds, I remember why I wasn’t ready to offer myself to this.
“No. I would like to but… Maybe, some other time”.
We exchange thanks and goodbyes. I go, hoping never to see her again. Otherwise, how will I tell her I’m only pretending to be a real musician?
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