i might break \\ open

[eliza]

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he'd learned the piano in this very building. this very piano, in fact. he'd been an intern at the time, twenty-four and not used to the rigors of hospital life, not used to not sleeping and spending hours in surgery. he'd eyed the piano, residing in the main foyer, the same place it still stood, and he'd walk past it every day. after four months, he'd bought a piano playing book, read it in a night; he'd bought some sheet music the next day, memorizing those in a night. and just like that, that fast, he learned. it was a matter of memorizing keys, memorizing ways to press the keys, and memorizing was the one thing he was good at.

he didn't play often, but every now and then, after a long day of work, anton would make a stop at the keys between patients, and he'd drum out a rhythm, some old melody he still remembered like it was fresh. he didn't sing, he was as tone deaf as they came, but he could play. his fingers moved in the familiar pattern of the moonlight sonata, no sheet music present and not needing it, eyes not closed and lost in the music, but staring blankly at the empty sheet tray in front of him, lost in thought.

[ the song he's playing ]

[EVELYN.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: black; font-family: karla; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"]She is exceptionally good at piano, but unlike him, it takes a lot more than a couple of days for her to learn the instrument. It wasn't even a passion of hers, not when she was a six year-old girl who'd much rather assert her attention to Bratz dolls, but her father had a vision for her. What could that man not do? He'd played four instruments, knew twelve languages, and like Dominic he was an English professor. He wanted his daughter, even at a young age, she have ambitions and a love for music. It'd take four more years of hard, aimless work, because she'd ever grow an appreciation for it. That'd be the year that her father passed away, and where she'd play his favorite song on his piano. Even then she'd mess up, pathetically blinded by her tears.

Her voice was quite exceptional as well. In middle school, she prides herself in being lead in some of her school plays. Back then, she had something to assuage her fear of the stage, but now there was nothing for that. Seeing the piano in the foyer does something to Evelyn, yet she hasn't approached it as she doesn't want to distract or form a crowd. She reads a book when she hears it, it's chords unmistakable to the ears. For a moment she listens as she reads and then, she stands to see who plays. To no surprise its Anton, a man who will cure her son and bring the world did their knees in his generosity. He plays the piano, too.

She leans against the wall, watches, making sure not to distract him from the piece that he plays. When he's done is when she makes her appearance. "What can you not do?" She jokes half-heartedly before she approaches the bench. "May I?" She points to the empty spot beside him.