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The Piano

A Fictitious Story on Living Vicariously Through Others

By Michelle LiewPublished 5 days ago Updated 5 days ago 3 min read
The Piano
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Benton Park, an affluent estate in the middle of sun-drenched Singapore, was a place where everyone wanted to build their dream home. For the Lim family, it was a sign that they had reached the pinnacle of success.

And no one could challenge Mr Francis Lim's pedigree. From a wealthy family himself, he received a substantial inheritance after the death of his grandfather. The money, together with the funds accrued from his hard work as an engineer, had afforded him and his family a two-storey Spanish-style hacienda in Benton Park.

By all accounts, life was idyllic. The children had everything they needed and wanted, but being a member of a wealthy family did not mean an exemption from hard work.

Joseph Lim certainly appreciated the truth of this. His mother and father were particularly concerned about his music education, his father being an accomplished concert pianist himself.

He had spent hours upon hours as a young schoolboy teasing ivory keys.

Unsurprisingly, Francis Lim constantly impressed the importance of success on his son.

*********************************************************************

A hardcore lover of antiques, Francis had filled his home with old-style furniture and bookshelves. An imposing, old school Grandfather's Clock graced the living room.

Missing was an old-style antique piano. Francis had always imagined himself as a Liberace of sorts, complete with an old grand piano and elaborate candelabra.

He decided that a reward for Joseph's hard work on the piano was in order. And ornate baby grand piano had caught his eye at a million-dollar antique auction a friend of his had invited him to. All in black, its expensive ivory keys and stylish brass pedals were sure to catch the eye.

The instrument's mahogany cover, painstakingly lacquered, gave it a touch of elegance.

"This is sure to be a hit," he mumbled to himself as he carefully removed the plastic packaging around it. Who could resist a bona fide baby grand?

As expected, he soon started compelling Joseph to experiment with the keys. Joseph, a typical teen with a taste for contemporary music, adamantly resisted his father's attempts to push him to tinker with what he thought was old-fashioned and grotesque.

"No way are you going to get me to touch that," the 14-year-old insisted petulantly.

Reach overwhelmed the normally placid Francis. He grabbed one of his belts and hit his son's hands repeatedly with its brass buckle.

"Dad, I'll practice. I'll practice. Please stop,"

So it was that Joseph caved to his father's demands and honed his skills on the antique. He never reached the prodigious level of performance his dad had expected him to.

*********************************************************************

Petulant about his son's apparent lack of success, Francis was in the music room in the hope of reliving his musical childhood. He hoped that a few rounds of Gershwin would help him ease his frustration.

Found himself inexplicably drawn to the baby grand. The black and white scales kept calling, compelling the middle-aged Francis to play them.

He began to play Beethoven's Fur Elise at a frenetic pace. On and on he went, faster and faster, banging the keys with his knuckles and fingertips until they became bloody.

Oblivious to the pain, Francis went on playing and banging, unable to stop himself even if he wanted to. Soon, the white surface of the keys turned red.

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"Dad," Joseph poked his head around the door frame of his father's library."Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, Joseph," he tried to lift his hands off the table, but his attempt was in vain. He dropped them and kicked its base instead.

"Dad, it's okay! I'll practice! I'll practice! Don't move!" The young boy's eyes enlarged in panic.

"No, no, no, don't do that," Francis sat in an armchair. "Daddy's sorry."

"Wha....what are you sorry for?" Joseph looked about in confusion.

"I never should have forced you to live my life. You're a young man. Perhaps you succeed at forming the garage band you've always wanted to." happened his son on the shoulder, albeit with some difficulty. "Dr. Ong says that I'll recover, but will never be able to bend my fingers again. I'll leave the performing to you."

A nonplussed Joseph a confused Joseph nodded and left the room.

*********************************************************************

Some months later, Joseph stood in that same music room, smiling as he listened to a recording of the Contemporary LP he and his friend had recorded. It had made the best sellers list on Patreon.

Short Story

About the Creator

Michelle Liew

Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.

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Comments (2)

  • Hannah Moore5 days ago

    A lesson quickly learnt!

  • So glad he realised that he shouldn't have done that to Joseph. Loved your story!

Michelle LiewWritten by Michelle Liew

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