** ALLAN **

IT’S ALL ABOUT THE EMOTION,’ BRIAN ANSWERED and I totally believed him, because he seemed taken by this huge excitement, his hair closing in on his face like a curtain. ‘If you play it right, you’ll be able to show your audience exactly how you’re feeling at the moment and people will feel the same as you and that connection is just so... so... damn perfect!’

I reached my hands to the keys, stroking them carefully so it wouldn’t come across as if I was trying to harm his piano. The sound that came was absolutely atrocious and I didn’t insist long. I took a side glance at him and I could swear I had seen a hint of shock before he burst out into laughter. It sounded so sincere in that sexy voice of his that I would be happy if he’d spend the remainder of this class just laughing. I wonder if he’s ticklish.

‘Oh God...’ he was panting and drying a tear from his eye. ‘That was precious. But tell me, what emotion were you trying to convey?’

‘Lost definitely,’ he chuckled at my answer. Was I really able to make him laugh? ‘And hope, too, I guess.’

‘Well, I did get a lot of bravery from that. And if you ask me, that’s a combination of both of your emotions.’

What I wanted to say was that a combination of my emotions was called Brian, but not even I am that cheesy. At least not so soon.

‘All right,’ I said instead. ‘Your turn, then. Show me what you’re feeling.’

He raised an eyebrow at me, pondering my request. It was quite personal, after all.

‘All right,’ he said back at me, reaching for the keys, which gave me the perfect excuse and opportunity I didn’t know I needed to look at his hands. They were thin and very white and ended on very long and agile fingers. The only accessory was a small watch on his left wrist, facing downwards. His white sleeves were folded up in a three-quarters style and for a split second, I got distracted with the hairs on his arms leading back to his hands.

Then he started playing and I couldn’t remember the last time I witnessed something so beautiful. His fingers touched the keys almost as if they were magnetic and calling for those tips, each one jealous of the stroke the other had just received. He played for about a couple of minutes and, when he finished, it was my turn to dry a tear from my eye.

‘Now tell me,’ the sound of his voice was the perfect addition to the melody. ‘How did that make you feel?’

Wet. I wanted to say wet.

‘Astounded at first,’ I said, being more honest with him than I had ever been with anyone I just met. What was this power? ‘Then I felt curiosity. Certainly, some hope. Oh! And a pint of enchantment, if it makes any sense to you.’

He chuckled one more time. ‘It does. It actually does make perfect sense to me. This is something I started creating last night and it’s called “a long lane at night”. It still isn’t finished, but that’s what excites me. I can’t wait to see where it leads me.’

‘Wow. That was a perfect answer to my question. Thanks.’ I smiled at him and I could see his eyes gleaming for a heartbeat.

For the rest of the class, he taught me the basics of playing music, starting with the basic notes, and I wanted to learn everything. I wasn’t certain why. I didn’t know to what extent I really wanted to play the piano or I just wanted to do everything he told me to.

Just too soon it was time for me to go home. I couldn’t even remember that I was tired from work anymore.

‘Uuuh... Hey, Allan,’ Brian said tentatively. ‘Hang on. I’ll go down with you, if you don’t mind. I need to get dinner. I’ll just grab my wallet.’

He disappeared into the flat and came back a minute later, smelling, if possible, even fresher. I waited for him to lead the way and soon we were making small talk waiting for the lift. I didn’t mind talking to him at all. The more I could hear his voice, the better. The more time I could spend with him, the happier I felt.

We walked down the pavement until we reached the intersection with the main road and I stood at the bus stop. I caught a glimpse of that tentative behaviour one more time.

‘Do you mind,’ he said, pulling his hair behind his ears and I basked on the sight of his hands and face combined in a single frame and no one was complaining. ‘If I wait here with you? I don’t really want to be back home so soon and I’m not much of a fan of walking round by myself.’

‘Sure! I’d like that!’ I opened up a big smile and he turned round to sneeze. ‘Are you okay? ‘

‘Yeah. Sure. I’m great.’

We waited for about fifteen minutes until my bus came. All that time we just talked about a lot of little things, mostly music. He was really driven by it, feeling ever in his element. He said goodbye with his widest smile yet, saying ‘until Friday’ and for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t wait for something. I only had time to say ‘sure’ with another smile and got on the bus.

When I arrived home, I laid down in bed, hugged a pillow and Googled his name. There were a lot of performances by a teenager Brian. He had a small Wikipedia page and that was awesome. I didn’t know he was famous! I thought all I would find were those basic tutorials every teacher has up on YouTube. I didn’t find any of those, though. There were just a few videos of interviews, and he didn’t say much. It was a shame, I certainly would have benefitted from hearing his voice more, even the often cracked voiced of a teenage Brian, but I was more than happy to watch his performances, especially when the camera zoomed in on his hands. They flew over the keys and made me yearn to see that magic in person one more time.

By the time I arrived for my next class I had already watched every single video more than once, probably committed a couple to memory. And I wasn’t even ashamed.