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Your fingers danced across the strings, your right hand swinging passionately as the bow led the music to another crescendo. Your whole body moved with the rhythm that rumbled through the room, the vibrato of your left hand adding a greater dimension to the introduction and Rondo Capriccioso of Saint-Saëns. For a moment you forgot the world around you as you played each note by memory – which had taken quite some time to achieve. Beads of sweat started to form on your forehead as you swayed to the sides, throwing your whole body into the music as if it were the last thing you did. The volume built up to the finale and you retook your bow with a swing, bringing it down with a precise and passionate force for the last notes that marked the end of the piece.
Good thing you didn’t have neighbours.
While panting you brushed your arm over your forehead, but a shower was certainly needed. You had been practicing songs and concertos for at least forty minutes now.
Suddenly you felt your heart sink – you hadn’t checked if the windows of your apartment had been closed before you started. With a gasp you dashed towards the windows, only to sigh in utter relief when you noticed that they had indeed been closed to begin with. You didn’t have direct neighbours to your left and right, the woman who lived on the floor above was never home and the guy that lived on the floor below you was deaf - that much was true, but you knew that sound could carry pretty far, especially when you played the violin like that.
Being cautious was better than being thrown out by your complain-flooded landlord.
This place was cheap (noticeably, with leaks and things falling apart every damn week) but close to the city centre, your university, and your job. The landlord could have asked more if he had wanted to, honestly, just because of the great location, but the old man has a good heart and enough sympathy for two. You didn’t think he would just put you on the streets without a couple of warnings, but if by any chance he did, you wouldn’t really have somewhere to go. Your job wasn’t much of a source of income compared to the money you had to pay on a monthly basis, and cheap apartments were tough to come by.
You let the water wash away your worries for a while, just enjoying the sensation. As an avid shower singer you couldn’t stop yourself from loudly clamouring the first couple of songs that came to mind, and a couple more after those as well. You were pretty good at singing as far as you knew. Of course, there was no real way of knowing without having anyone to listen to it, but as long as you believed it to be decent there was nothing that would stop you from singing. Or dancing around in the living room. Or both at the same time. And today was no exception. You danced from the bathroom to the sitting area and into the kitchen to make yourself some dinner. Saturdays always passed way too quickly, and Sundays had that feeling of impending doom that left you feeling horrible at the end of the day, as if you hadn’t spent your free time doing enough fun things. Luckily you still had a full night before Sunday would arrive and you were determined to spent all of it on the internet. Sadly, your body didn’t quite agree, and after a couple of hours of begging for sleep you decided to give in and to call it a night.
You awoke when the first rays of sunlight shone through the blinds and urged you to get up, but the warm sheets were just too soft and comfortable. You wanted to wrap yourself in the blankets like a burrito and to keep slumbering for a little longer, but the growling of your stomach only worsened the more you tried to ignore it. Why was it that your body was always working against you?
Breakfast was made and devoured within half an hour, leaving you with plenty of time to do absolutely nothing. God, you were already bored to death. Of course you could practice like most days, but it was still too early for that, even for you. One glance at the clock told you it wasn’t even 10 AM yet, but going back to bed sounded too boring to be an option anymore. You threw yourself on the couch with a sigh and not a thing to do. You mindlessly turned on the telly and browsed through the channels, until something caught your attention. A Disney film! It suddenly was the answer to all your struggles. You slightly turned up the volume and sang along to all the songs without restraint.
Two hours later you were left with nothing again. You could go out on the streets and play, maybe earn some money? Sure, it was a pretty scary thing to do, but you had heard stories of street performers that made quite a lot of money on a day – and money did sound alluring. You figured that being outside in the polluted fresh air might do you good as well, and giving yourself a push in the back sometimes was a good thing, right?
You put on some nicer looking clothes and fixed your hair, happy with the way your face looked today.
You returned to the living room. Your eyes fell on the music stand and on the pieces of paper covered in notes, and suddenly you felt a bit self-conscious. Maybe you should practice some more before going out to play in front of strangers, just to reassure yourself that, yes, you were actually able to play the violin, and yes, it did sound pretty okay. You nodded to yourself. Yeah, that was probably a good idea.
You picked up the instrument and placed it on your shoulder with your left hand while your eyes searched the booklets for songs to play. La Danse Macabre, Op. 40, was a well known piece that anyone would recognise, and it was fun to play as well. You tuned the violin, played some scales to make sure your fingers were awake and working, and started playing.
After thirty seconds, however, you thought you heard stray keys on a piano.
Maybe your imagination was lively enough to make up the other half of your ensemble, or maybe you were going mad. No, no you definitely heard a piano. You played a little softer but the piano seemed to fade with it, so you increased your volume again – not surprised to hear the piano liven up as well. You continued playing loudly for the rest of the song, throwing yourself into the music once again. You could almost hear the ghostly piano gain more confidence as you kept playing, its rhythm growing more in tune with yours. It was quite obvious that the pianist was not very used to accompanying a violinist but it was easy to hear how skilled he or she was, quickly fixing mistakes they made in tempo. You wondered if they had the sheet music in front of them at all or if they were improvising – it sounded more like the latter, only emphasizing their talent. It was more fun than you had had in a while. Playing your instrument was enjoyable and all, but a piano could add so much more to a piece. It made you wonder who this ghost-like pianist was, filling you with sense of exhilarating mystery.
The song ended and the piano stopped, not giving you the time to listen for the direction it came from. You weren’t going to give up so easily, however. You played a short string of notes and stopped, waiting for any kind of response. When nothing came you tried again, holding your breath in silent anticipation. Just when you wanted to give up you heard it - the (almost) same string of notes you had just played. It seemed to come from the other side of the wall that split your and your non-existent neighbour’s living room. A large grin formed on your face as you quickly sought out another well-known piece. Suddenly one came to mind: the Rondo by Oskar Rieding, Op. 22 No. 3, was a piece anyone who could play the piano or violin had learned at some point in their life.
You started, only to hear the piano join you within moments. You were right, the pianist fluently played the right notes without a single mistake, easily able to keep up. You let out a small laugh as the two of you flowed into a second and even a third round of the same song, every time a bit faster. You wanted to keep playing songs with the mysterious musician, but your curiosity got the better of you. You were 99% sure that the piano was on the other side of the wall you were standing next to and you couldn’t wait to meet this fairytale-like figure that showed up out of nowhere. You put down the instrument and almost ran towards your front door, making sure you had your keys in your pocket so you wouldn’t be locked out again. You closed the door behind you and knocked on the one next to it, some kind of adrenaline rush still running through your veins.
The door creaked open and words came flooding from your lips.
“That was so much fun! You play the piano really well, and I wanted to thank you for just now! I haven’t played ensemble in long time and – “
The person who stood before you was not what you had expected. What had you expected? A woman, maybe, or a man around the age of forty or something. Anything but a guy of your age, well dressed and handsome. And you were staring at him.
“Oh, eh, hi, by the way.” You smiled weakly, too taken aback and embarrassed by your mindless rambling.
He let out a laugh and for a moment the cliché thought that his laugh was almost as musical as the piano itself crossed your mind, making it hard for you to take yourself seriously. Damn, were you really that much of a sappy romantic? Then you noticed he held out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Daniel, Dan for short. I guess I’m your new neighbour.”
You shook his hand and gave him your name in return. “Wait, when did you move in, if I might ask?”
“Yesterday morning, so I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself yet. Unboxing is taking more time than I’d like to admit.” He let out a short chuckle and then looked as if he remembered something. He stepped to the side and made a swinging motion with his arm. “Do you want to come in? I know I haven’t really been acting according to the etiquette of being a good neighbour, but I have coffee, beer and tea.”
“Sure, tea would be lovely.” You stepped inside and walked over to the living area. There were boxes everywhere, forcing you to manoeuvre your way to the couch. “I must admit I haven’t brought you a welcome-to-the-neighbourhood gift, so I’ve been lacking on the etiquette part as well.”
He let out a chuckle and made his way to the kitchen to make you that promised cup of tea. You let your eyes rest on the piano and wondered how he got it here, it didn’t seem like it would fit in the elevator. Or maybe it did – either way it was a mystery that might never be solved.
Your eyes wandered to the guy in the kitchen. You watched how he searched for the right box, mumbling the words written on the cardboard as he tried to find a mug. It was cute. Oh no you were not going to fall for your new neighbour.
Suddenly the piece of important information he had provided clicked in place. He had been here since yesterday morning – meaning he had been here long enough to hear you sing Disney songs at the top of your lungs. You wanted to merge with the couch. How could you not have noticed him moving in? You should at least have heard the piano being rolled in or whatever, right?
You almost jumped when Dan set your mug on the table and sat down on the other end of the couch, slightly turned so he was facing you.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your train of thought.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was just thinking that I hadn’t heard you move in or I would have been... more quiet.” You tried to gauge if he had heard you sing at all. There was the possibility he hadn’t been home, right?
No such luck.
You saw his face light up in pure amusement and tiny sparkles appeared in his eyes as he was obviously trying to hold back his laughter. He hid his smile behind his hand and tried to compose himself, but you could still hear it in his voice.
“I don’t mind, really. I like your voice. You sing well and it’s entertaining to say the least.”
You felt your cheeks turn red, but whether it was because of the embarrassment or the compliments you couldn’t tell. Half-stuttering you tried to turn the conversation to a different direction.
“So, eh, you don’t mind me playing the violin? We could set specific times so I don’t bother you and stuff?”
“I don’t mind, as long as you don’t mind me playing along.” A wink. God he needed to stop or there would be nothing left of your poor heart.
“N-no I really enjoyed it,” you awkwardly cleared your throat before quickly continuing, “how long have you been playing?”
“That’s a good question...” He stared at the room absently and you took the time to study his face. He had a sharp jaw line and defined cheekbones, his hair was a bit messy, and his eyes were lively in a way you figured him to be an optimist. “I think it has at least been sixteen or seventeen years. I remember going to a classical concert with my parents, and I fell in love with the sounds of the piano. I think I might actually have cried while the pianist was performing.” He laughed, and you couldn’t help but chuckle with him. Hour after hour flew by as the two of you talked about so many things that you couldn’t even recall half of it at the end. There was quite a lot that you had in common, and with every sentence, every word, you could feel yourself being pulled more and more towards him.
The rumbling of both of your stomachs reminded you of the time, but it was he who spoke first.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have held you up for so long. By the way, we could practice together if you’d like? I think I could improve by accompanying a violin on the piano.”
“Yeah, I’d love to practice together.” Damned be that blush on your cheeks as the two of you walked over to the front door. “Sundays?”
“Around 12?”
“Sure!”
“Great! I guess I’ll see you around.” His smile was etched into your memory for now and ever after.
“See ya.” You gave him a warm smile and a short wave before entering your own apartment and softly closing the door behind you. You were frozen where you stood. Had all that just happened? You pinched your arm and let out a hiss - yep, this was real.
Sundays suddenly weren’t as boring anymore.