WARNING: The following chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence. Reader discretion is advised. Calix opened up his assignment on his laptop. Although his professor had not come today, there was still work to do. He needed to write the last line of his song, but nothing was coming to mind. He had been under a writer's block for the past few days, and he was sure that by coming to the park, his head would clear. Unfortunately, that was not the case. He stood up and was about to take a stroll around the park when he realised that Aster was sleeping peacefully on the bench next to him.

I wouldn't want to wake him up for no good reason.

Calix sat back down and sighed. He usually had no trouble with music assignments, but "Purple and Blue" wasn't coming as easily. He gazed at Aster for a while. A single cherry petal had landed on Aster's nose while he was sleeping. Calix considered leaning over to dust it off for Aster, but something else drew his attention. He heard the sounds of high-pitched squeaking and chirping drawing closer.

Is the otter family back? Haven't seen them since last year.

The sounds were unmistakable. 

Aster seems like the kind of person who would love animals. He'd want to see this.

Calix gently tapped Aster awake. As Aster stirred from his sleep, the pink petal fell off his nose and drifted away with the wind. 

"I wasn't sure if I should wake you up for this, but look in the river…"

"What..?"

Aster sprang awake, got up and turned around to look at the river, and he spotted them.

"Otters!"

Five otters were playing in the river. It was a small family by otter standards; two adults and three kids. 

"I would never forgive you if you didn't wake me up for this." Aster giggled as he spoke..

The little otters gathered around their mother. It was nursing time.

"Aww… They're a whole family…"

Calix noticed the wistfulness in Aster's voice. As they sat back down on the bench, Aster made a comment that made things uncomfortable.

"I miss my mom…"

Honestly, Calix didn't like it when parents were the centre of conversation. It had always been that way. When his school friends spoke of their parents, or when he went to their houses, he could not help but feel a tinge of jealousy, seeing how their parents were compared to his. This was especially so once his eyes were fully opened to just how dire his family's situation was.

Calix tried to hide his emotions like he usually did, but some of his discomfort leaked through. It wasn't the first time that he failed to conceal his feelings from Aster, who noticed the change in Calix's expression.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down. I won't bring her up again." 

Calix let out a sigh.

"Don't be afraid to be honest with your feelings. It's not that. It's just…"

Calix put his hand on his forehead.

"Well… Mother is a bit of a sensitive topic for me, too. I've never told anyone this but…"

Calix felt the urge to suppress his emotions. Aster did not need to listen to this. Why would he care? He didn't need an explanation. He didn't need to have another thing on his mind to worry about. 

"It's okay. You don't need to share if you're not comfortable."

Aster's reassuring smile kept him going. He had never been able to communicate his struggles, not even to someone as close as Hazel, but something about Aster made him open up. 

I just can't place it. 

"Mother was not a great piano teacher. She was a vindictive and hateful creature."

Aster's smile soured, replaced by a look of horror.

"As I got older, punishment became more frequent and severe. It was a daily routine."

Aster patted him on the back, doing his best to comfort Calix.

"Dad tried to stop the abuse, but he was never able to do enough. Then, one day, everything became even worse."

*****

Performing at piano recitals was a common occurrence for young Calix. At the age of ten, he had played in almost a hundred and had already done solos in many of them. This would be the biggest one yet- an audience of ten thousand. Yet, waiting backstage, Calix felt calm. These performances had become routine for him. Practice, perform, apologise for mistakes, and move on to the next one. A simple rinse and repeat.

Marche Funèbre, Piano Sonata No.2. One of Chopin's finest works, according to Mother. Today's performance is finally going to make her proud; it just has to. The countless hours practising have to be worth it.

Calix's name was called, and he stepped onto the stage, accompanied by a warm round of applause. The audience was a sea of black; the faces of the crowd obscured by near-total darkness. He had no idea where Mother was seated, yet he felt her imposing presence within. He felt the slightest hint of nervousness, but suppressed it behind the blank face that he had learned to make. His ten-year-old stature made him look miniature compared to the other adult pianists that had performed that day, reminding the audience that his skill was simply at another level. 

"If he is playing on this stage when he's just ten, imagine where he'll be when he's fully developed his skills!" 

Those words and countless other praises had been lauded to his mother, who humbly accepted such commendations. Calix, however, knew that he had yet to make her, the most important person in his life, proud. This recital was his golden opportunity- and he treated it with nothing less than the utmost reverence. He walked to the front of the stage, directly into the spotlight and bowed, acknowledging the presence of his audience.

He retreated towards the black grand piano, the centre of attention in the hall. He pulled back the piano bench gracefully and sat down. Silence filled the auditorium, and he raised his fingers and placed them tenderly on the white and black acrylic keys.

It was time to play.