I started Jasper .

It’s a new story I was planning. I guess you could call this a prologue, or a preamble of sorts. I’m not sure exactly where this story will go, I’m moreover “flying by the seat of my pants”. I hate having to break/stop writing to go to school. I can never focus as much when I’m in class. Thank God for an early release week. Just in time:


A boy.

A teenager.

A son.

A pianist.

Titles mean so little to me these days. To my father and my instructors they mean the world — a title makes them feel more important and wanted, makes them feel like they belong, but I don’t need a title to belong. I have my music to teach me that.

I grew up where the piano was regarded about as highly as meatloaf. Since I was fourteen, since the first time I heard the classical melody of a wide-brassed piano, I centered myself around music entirely. My only parent, my father, was much more supportive of the instrument than I’d hoped beforehand. He bought me my first set of professional keys when I was fifteen, come to watch my first mini-recital at H.A.D — but I’m getting ahead of myself now.

The story of where I come from and where I am is complicated. Complicated is a nice way of putting it. Saying my life has been complicated is like saying a tree has a leaf. No shit.I haven’t had the luck with the girls like my brothers did when they were flunking through highschool, but I did manage to keep two ladies in my life: my best friend Melony, and my piano. It wasn’t a hundred percent mine, for it belonged to the H.A.D organization, but through the years I’ve spent there, my fingers have run along the smooth black & white keys enough to claim it as such. She is mine, and I am her’s. Yes, forever her’s.

Meredith says that I can become great, the Ludwig Beethoven of my time.

But I don’t play for her either.

I play for the crowd, and for Melony on occasion, and for my father. I’ve played for audiences all over the state of New Hampshire. But I have one melody that I play only for myself.

I could never quite bring myself to name it. It is simply my favorite. I take care to make sure my ears are the only ones to hear it; playing on my piano in the late hours at H.A.D, or, if there are others around, I will move my fingers over the keys without pressing them, enjoying the familiarity of following the pattern of my favorite.




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