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A torn backpack, notebooks thrown into the trash, clothes stained with mud, tears in small greenish eyes. Zoë knows all this too well.
Every day, with her thin childish fingers, she cleans the dirt on her white blouse, sews torn dresses and buys new textbooks.
To make it all happen again.
Every performance, Kressler heard the ridicule from her classmates. Zoë's class has never met her new self-composed songs with avatars. They just smiled. They said that she wasn’t good musician, that she sang poorly in French, and that her songs in German were meaningless and stupid.
The Swiss girl did not blame these children. They probably don't get enough attention in the family, so they take it out on her. They probably just have an accumulation of anger that these teenagers can't control, and Kressler just became an accidental victim.
However, every time it hurt, it was like the first time. Every night, Zoë cried quietly in her bed, unable to hold back another outburst of emotions.
Kressler understood why she was being bullied. The Swiss woman was too kind and naive, standing out among the violent teenagers. But it was impossible to ignore all their words. Sooner or later, they got into her head, creating a lot of doubts about her own worth and usefulness.
Anyone in her place would have given up music a long time ago and simply preferred to remain invisible.
Perhaps it was logical.
But Zoë was too fond of expressing her thoughts with the help of song lines, playing another melody on the piano. Kressler didn't want to stop doing the only thing she genuinely enjoyed.
Nevertheless, with each new song booed, Zoë began to dig into herself, looking for problems. The girl watched the videos of her performances thousands of times, invented flaws, found fault with every note she sang.
The errors found lowered self-confidence below the baseboard. Kressler crossed out her songs a thousand times, corrected her flaws, but everything seemed useless now.
"Can you stop trying to do what you can't do?"
An obsessive thought did not leave her head with each rewritten passage. The piece of paper was soaked with tears. Her hands were shaking and she had almost no strength left. But Zoë wanted so badly to write something good, something worthwhile. Something that everyone will like.
Even if she understood that they would never like her music, no matter what she did.
Because these songs belonged to Zoë Anina Kressler. That's the whole reason.
***
When Zoë's parents suggest that she apply for the new La Gustav Academy project, where twenty artists from Switzerland get the opportunity to professionally release their first songs and perform at large venues, she doesn't really believe that she can be accepted. The old songs seemed bad to Kressler, but she no longer had the energy to write new ones.
Nevertheless, Zoë decides to try it. The girl didn't want to upset her parents. The Swiss imagined their sad faces and felt a strong pang of guilt. In the end, she will have the opportunity to prove to them once and for all that she is incompetent and will not make a musician out of her.
Kressler plays an arrangement of one of her once-favorite songs on the piano, in which the Swiss has already managed to find many mistakes. But compared to the others, she didn't sound so disgusting. Zoë sang the words into her home microphone, superimposed them on the melody and sent the final work to the academy.
The girl did not wait for the results of the selection.
Kressler had already decided that when she got rejected, she would stop playing music and never play the piano again. That she won't write a single line in her notebook.
But the world is abruptly turning upside down.
At the moment when her Mom runs into Kressler's room, kisses her and tells that she has passed the selection. That she actually did it.
Zoë can't believe her eyes until she finds a small piece of paper in her hands that confirms her mother's words.
She was really accepted.
Maybe then she's not so incompetent? Maybe you should give yourself a second chance?
***
When Zoë arrives at the Frison camp, she immediately feels foreign.
Too much.
There are so many confident guys around who play incredible instruments and sing beautifully. It's like they were born for the stage. Zoë was so cornered by bullying. She felt like she couldn't hold a candle to them all.
Kressler was also one of the youngest participants. The Swiss was only 17, and she hadn't even graduated from high school yet. Some of the young men were already over 20. Because of this, the feeling of foreignness increased. Zoë was afraid to even approach someone to get to know them. What if they condemn her? Will they say again, like her classmates, that she is not beautiful enough, does not wear makeup well, plays terribly or sings poorly?
Zoë stretched out her hand, tried to open her mouth to talk to someone, but in vain. Kressler was overcome by the fear of judgment. Another harassment.
Would it be better to withdraw from the project altogether? Lock herself in a room and memorize everything for admission to university. Forget about music and dreams? Should she send it all to hell? Her thoughts were piling up in her head into one big lump of fear and denial.
Until a gentle touch brought Kressler out of her depressive thoughts. It made Zoë start shaking violently and look at the unknown figure next to her. Her palms immediately became sweaty from nerves.
– Why are you standing here alone?
He was smiling. His face didn't look angry or scary. There was interest and kindness in his gaze. The man in front of her clearly didn't look aggressive or malicious.
– It's just that I've never been surrounded by so many creative people before, and I feel a little embarrassed. I'm afraid I won't live up to expectations.
– Oh, come on. You've already been accepted, so you're worthy. Don't doubt yourself and do what you like. What's your name?
The guy smiled and Zoë felt a little easier from these words. He was right. If Kressler was taken, then the girl was worthy of it.
– My name is Zoe Anina Kressler. You can call me just Zoë. And you?
– You have a beautiful name. I'm Gjon Muharremaj, nice to meet you.
– Nice to meet you, too."
Gjon's company was pretty good. Zoë even managed to feel relieved after his small compliment. Muharremaj seemed to be a good man, and also very talented. His voice was mesmerizing. Zoë watched with her mouth open as a new acquaintance played the piano and took very high notes with such ease.
Gjon even invited her to play Celine Dion with him. They sat down next to each other and started playing together. Their voices matched well together. Muharremaj's strong falsetto and Kressler's gentle timbre harmonized well, creating a good sound.
For the first time all day, Zoë felt involved in this whole music festival.
For the first time in many years, Kressler felt that childish desire to create, which she seemed to have lost in high school.
– Thanks.
Zoë says, continuing to press the piano keys.
– For what?
Gjon laughed, as if he hadn't done anything special.
– For making me want to continue making music.
Muharremaj looked at Zoë in shock and seemed unable to believe what he had heard.
– I just invited you to play the piano with me.
– That's enough for me.
Zoë said, ending the song with a very beautiful melody. Her slender fingers gently touched his palm, and her small eyes were directed directly into Gjon's eyes. The gesture was like a silent request not to leave her.
– Are you okay?
– Yes. Just stay close, okay?
Zoë suddenly felt guilty. Kressler clung to Gjon like she was holding onto air, even though they hadn't known each other very long. The Swiss woman simply saw in Muharremaj a man she could trust. He was so kind to her, so sincere from the very first second, that the girl, after so many years of harassment, was attracted to him.
– I don’t know what is going on in your head, and why you are so afraid that I will leave, but I'm not going to leave you here alone in this state.
She continued to look at him with eyes full of hope, and then Kressler finally smiled.
– Thanks, Gjon.
– You're welcome, Zoë.