Our paper crowns, p.7
OUR PAPER CROWNS, page 7
It hurts to disappoint someone.
It hurts twice as much as if they let you down.
If I’ve broken something inside him, I want to pick up the pieces right now and restore them. It urges me. It doesn’t matter if I cut myself in the process.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I... It’ll be better if I leave right now.”
I don’t know if I will see Szymon again after that disastrous disagreement. After the email where I confirmed my transfer for his services, I have not heard from him again. Maybe he’s already busy with another project and, in that case, I’m at peace because it would be the best for both of us.
Zilé, Picaza, my mother and several friends from the race come to the opening of the academy. There are more attendees than there have been at my birthday parties (honestly, I’ve always hated them) and it’s a fact that makes me happy. Everyone shows their joy for this milestone in my life. I already have my first clients. After the complimentary wine I play a small concert with three pieces and the audience looks at me with excitement. Some even record me. It fills me with tenderness to imagine that some people want to remember me later in their cell phone galleries.
The evening ends by attending to the guests, answering some congratulations and responding to a couple of journalists who—thanks to fate—have managed to come.
When everyone leaves, Zilé stays with me. Picaza goes with me —Exclusive of the day: she is back with her ex-boyfriend! (I remember that she winked at me and moved her lips as if to say, I’ll explain later).
Near the piano, Zilé gives me a long kiss overflowing with devotion.
“I’m very proud of you, love. You are the most dedicated and passionate artist in the world, and being your boyfriend is a privilege. I am the boyfriend of a prodigy. I don’t even believe how I managed to achieve such a thing. Every day I remind myself that life has given me someone like you and I make an effort to recognize that this is not a dream, but reality itself. And there are no words for that, Rob Hilsen. My stubborn Rob Hilsen.”
“My romantic Zilé,” I tell him. I also have no words to define the encouragement you give me. Thanks for being here.
“I will always be here. Whenever you want.”
“Of course, I’ll always love you,” I reply. Between him and me there are no assumptions, only affirmations. “I promise you. Please always remember that.”
“I will remember it.”
This time I hug him. We are collarbone to collarbone—and I swear this is my safe place. I remember the time I spent distant from him, the days when I only had a few minutes to send him a couple of messages because I was immersed in the planning of this project and how much I longed for those moments—or moments like this—of intimacy and love. But it has all been worth it because we are here, sharing this immense sea of happiness. The beginning of a future where we will both soon be together, without more abysses in between. In a common time, in parallel existences. The future between us—for us—is so bright it suffocates me. I’m dying to swim in it.
While we kiss, I lose my balance for a moment and place a hand on the piano case. Then something slips and falls. It sounds like pages in full flight.
“What’s that?” Zile asks, and that’s when fear overcomes me. It has the Szymon fragrance. Or is my paranoia in full swing?
“I think someone has forgotten a magazine. Oh, wait.”
A handwritten note is slipped on couched paper. Zilé picks it up and reads it aloud.
“Much success in your project. The best vibes always for the best pianist in Denmark. Hugs, Szymon. Who is Szymon? And why did he leave you a magazine?”
The tone of his voice is calm, but I can tell he’s jealous.
“I don’t know, Zilé. He was... the one who was in charge of the remodeling of this place.”
Will I tell him about the time he almost kissed me? I don’t want to repeat that feeling of emptiness and guilt. Not in him. It doesn’t have to be a bitter pill to swallow.
“Ah, I see,” he says.
“He gave it to me because a report they did about his work appears here. Look, it’s him.”
I notice that his anger gradually calms down.
“He’s someone very professional,” I comment, wanting to return to the track from a few moments ago.
“I see. A magazine boy. Well, don’t feel guilty. I have not been angry with you, only with him for his audacity. But I understand it. If you and I were nothing, I would want to tear you away from whoever it was. And I would even appear in Playboy to catch your attention.”
We both let out a loud laugh. Despite how plausible it is that Zilé appears in one of those magazines.
“He’s a narcissist,” I tell him. “From the first moment I saw him in that cafeteria I knew it. His way of moving around the place as if it belonged to him… But it’s already over.”
“That’s how I like it,” he says. “Let my boy be observant and know when he is around predators like him. It’s a good thing he didn’t come today. Sure, I wouldn’t put on a show, but I would talk to him to set the record straight. Wait, did that sound very possessive?”
“A little. But don’t worry, I think what was narcissistic was reasonable; he understood very well that I have you. Besides, if he saw you with me, rest assured that you would repel him with just one of your glances.”
“Yes, surely my look at this pianist is mine would keep him out of the solar system.”
“As is,” I smile. And I kiss him again. The situation has explained itself. And I can’t describe the relief I feel. The enormous burden that has been lifted from my shoulders.
Even if we spent the rest of the night in silence, to me it would sound like the purest poetry. However, we talked as if nothing had happened about our future plans. He tells me that he got tickets for both of us to a very popular music festival in the city.
“Don’t worry about the people. I know the crowds overwhelm you, but I will be with you and we will have a great time.”
That he remembers that detail without me telling him moves me. And what he says is very true. He knows how to protect me from the chaos outside.
“Thank you, Zilé. I’ll think of it as preparation for the crowds on our upcoming trip to Italy.”
“I like that voice. I like that version of my boy who is preparing for our future. I promise you that we will have a great time at that festival and that we will be like molecules traveling with the music.”
“I’m sure it would be good for me to get out of my sheet music zone a bit.”
“Maybe that’s why we like each other so much, right? We are like counterweights that brighten our lives when we complement each other. So different that we fell in love with our crazy chaos.”
“Yes, I totally agree, Zilé. Two artists crazy enough in themselves to peer into each other’s chaos and inhabit it. I can’t imagine living in anyone else’s. I don’t imagine myself in anyone else’s arms or in anyone else’s madness or in anyone else’s skin. I now refuse to evict you and our house. Just so you know, huh? Don’t even think about trying it in the future.”
And so, stumbling from kissing so much, we went up to my room to sleep.
I wake up that morning and the fear of having ruined something oppresses me. I remember the placidity after having explained the Szymon affair to him, the calm because nothing had really happened. But inside I can’t calm down. It’s as if nothing happened and everything happened anyway. I don’t know how Zilé must have felt when he discovered it, I don’t know if my statement disappointed him or if he really believes me and for him it didn’t go any further, as he said. I can’t be inside his heart to know, but I really hope it was just a bitter pill. May Szymon never insist again. I want to burn his memory like I will burn his magazine.
I know what’s behind bad intentions cloaked in sympathy. And I do not want that.
I want, instead, to save the happiest versions of us. Without intermediaries. This intact version of our happiness, one that no one can transgress.
It is my responsibility, because I have never been happier than now.
My first student is a nice 12-year-old girl. Her name is Alice and she has more maturity and determination than most adults I have met. Wow, if she learned a tune overnight and she doesn’t play the keys, it slips them. The prodigy that will be when she grows up.
“When you play the piano, what do you think about?” She asks me. “Are you totally focused? Or do you think of someone? Or do you let yourself be carried away by emotion?”
The question takes me on a curve.
“I think it’s a mixture of all those things you say, Alice, but with concentration predominating, like a center of gravity. Many factors can influence, as in the universe, but there must always be a force that regulates everything. In this case, the rules I have been teaching you.”
He smiles at me with a mischievous smile, as if wanting to know everything.
“Do you want to know if there is a special person I think of?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, wow. Well, yes, there is one.”
“And will I be able to meet that person one day?”
“What a smart girl. Yes, maybe. If you continue to surprise me, rest assured.”
And it does continue to surprise me. In the next class he plays a piece by Chopin masterfully.
“I have also learned some Taylor Swift songs, but in fragments.”
“Oh, Alice. How prodigious you are. Well, I promise you that when you leave this course, they will be a piece of cake. You have my word.”
“OK.”
I hear someone open the hall door. It’s Zilé.
“Zilé, what a surprise. Come, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Little Alice continues playing, unperturbed.
“Look, Alice, I want to introduce you to Zilé.”
“Nice to meet you,” she responds, and extends her hand to him.
“The pleasure is mine, talented Alice.”
“Alice, rehearse one of those songs and then show me, okay? I come quickly.”
“Alright.”
Zilé and I walk towards the door.
“I went to do some errands nearby and came to see you. There is already a date for the festival! Just this morning I was reviewing the itinerary. Will you be able to accompany me to the shopping center this afternoon to buy what we need?”
“Sure,” I tell him. “Do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’m coming for you, don’t worry.”
“Great.”
“Well, I’ll leave you with your brilliant student.”
He gives me a fleeting kiss goodbye. As he leaves, Alice’s mother immediately arrives, and her face turns into a grimace of disgust.
“I’m coming for my daughter,” he tells me angrily. I guess why and I almost start to shake.
“Sure. One second.”
“Alice. Sorry for the interruption. How about you continue rehearsing at home and show it to me later? As complete as you can, don’t rush.”
“Sure, Professor Rob. See you!”
In the next lesson what I feared happens: Alice doesn’t arrive. Her mother arrives—alone—and with that same expression of disgust and rebuke. Those kinds of looks that can set an entire house on fire.
“I know very well what I saw the other day and I do not spend my money for a depraved person to teach my daughter.”
“Madam, let me explain.”
“As I told you, you don’t need to explain anything to me. I know very well what I saw and what I want for my daughter and what I don’t.”
“But she didn’t even see us! And he wasn’t doing anything indecent.”
“I have said what I have said. Now listen to me carefully, I will tell you what you will do. You will call my daughter and tell her that you will no longer be her teacher, but make up a convincing lie.”
“Alright.”
“I want you to do it now.”
I don’t know how I will do such a thing, if right now I have a lump in my throat that barely allows me to articulate. I don’t know what will happen when I hear Alice’s tender voice. Hello Alice. Your mother’s homophobia prevents me from continuing to be your teacher. Tears start to appear and I quickly wipe them away.
I go to the phone in the study and Alice’s mother follows me.
“Hello Alice. How are you?”
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, thanks. Unfortunately, I have to give you some not so pleasant news.” I take a long breath. “I will no longer be able to continue being your teacher because I will move to another city”. Her mother nods, satisfied with the lie. “But I want you to know that it has been a privilege to be your teacher, that you have immense talent and I hope you continue working on it.”
Listening to whatever she’s going to say next is devastating, so I hang up immediately.
“That’s it. I have done it, ma’am.”
“Thank you for your services. I can give you an amount for your dismissal.”
“No, thanks. There’s no need.”
“Alright. Have a nice afternoon.”
I don’t know how to continue with the other students. Will they also leave when they know my orientation? Will I suffer an attack from someone more hateful than that mother? Will I have to close this business that I started with the greatest hope in the world?
Damn.
The most talented of my students has been taken away from me for a trifle.
For a trifle that sometimes becomes gigantic and torments me. As if it also magnified all the hurtful comments of yesteryear.
I wish you hadn’t been born like this.
What a waste.
Are you sure you can’t change it?
Seeing Zilé, I don’t know how to hide my sadness from him. I know that at the slightest carelessness my sadness will be revealed.
“You have something. And you haven’t told me.”
“No, it’s okay, honey. It’s just that I’ve had a lot of work.”
“Sure? You know you can tell me everything.”
“Yes, sure. Come on, let’s eat the pasta, it’s going to get cold.”
At the end, however, despite all my efforts and my thousand ways of not crying, I break down.
There he is, but I don’t want him to be. I don’t want him to see this broken version of me. Seeing that someone has achieved their goal of hurting me.
I decide to tell him everything.
“You gotta be kidding me. That nonsense... No. This can’t stay like this. Let me fix it.”
“No, Zilé. It will pass. I promise you.”
“No, this can’t stay like this. It’s an outrage. Poor girl. That woman has to know...”
“Listen,” I interrupt him. “That last time I saw her she didn’t seem at all convinced about changing her mind, quite the opposite. The best thing will be to save myself trouble and not see her again. Who knows what she is capable of doing this time.”
“I disagree, but what can you do? What matters now is that you are well. Don’t think for a second that there is something wrong with you because of that childish and conservative act that that lady made. OK?”
“Okay, Zilé. You will see that with time I will forget it.”
“And if you don’t forget, remember that there are people out there who will die for your classes. You will see how she will come back repentant in the future.”
“Thank you, Zilé. I don’t know how you manage to make me feel better.”
“It’s a replica of how good you make me feel. I can’t answer you any other way.”
We spent the rest of the night sitting in front of the TV eating ice cream. In addition to not knowing how my boyfriend manages to find the right words, I also don’t know how he stops time in the most healing of ways.
This day I closed a little earlier because at night we will go to the music festival. I hear the doorbell ring and hurry downstairs.
Is it Alice?
It has to be a mirage.
“Alice?”
“I came with my mother, Professor Rob. I already found out about everything he did. You’re so bad at lying! Of course, I didn’t believe you when you told me you were leaving town.”
“How?”
“I’ll explain to you later. Let’s say I threatened to reveal some high-risk information. Mom, didn’t you have something to tell him?”
Her mother, although she seems like a mirage a thousand times bigger, seems repentant. His face is contrite with regret.
“I’m sorry, Rob. My behavior the other day was unacceptable and appalling. My daughter wants to continue learning with you, with no one else. I don’t want her to replicate my actions in the future and... well, I won’t publish phrases like #LoveIsLove on all my profiles, but I offer you my most sincere apology. I got carried away, but it won’t happen again.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No,” Alice shouts. “Not at all.” She takes her mother’s hand. “My mom rarely regrets something, but this time she has and she is sincere.”
“Yes, I’m being honest,” she answers. “When will you be able to return?”
“The following Monday, at the usual time.”
“Perfect. See you then. And again, excuse me. Who knows how many close people I have hurt with my behavior or my comments, but this time I have learned my lesson.”
“See you soon, Professor Rob.”
“See you soon, Alice!” I exclaim effusively.
And so, with that joy, I momentarily say goodbye to the city. I was pleasantly surprised that some people and some facts that seem immovable and impossible to change can take an unpredictable turn at any moment. So, nothing is one hundred percent definitive, perhaps. And it is not worth worrying about those types of things whose control does not depend on us.
“I see you much better now, Rob.”
“I am,” I tell him on the train. “Alice’s mother has apologized to me and her daughter will return to my classes.”
