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Chapter 1

The Start of a career

From a young age, Janik Scherns was considered one of the most talented pianists in the United States. He would dance his fingers up and down the sleek black and white keys in front of crowds on the biggest stages, in the biggest cities, and in the biggest of festivals. However, his finest memory would come in Chicago, where at the age of fifteen, Janik played for one of the biggest events in the United States. The Nineteen-Thirty-Four Worlds' Fair.

The Worlds' Fair featured new inventions brought in from overseas, as well as extravagant architecture that domed into huge archways of marble and stone that were carved to form intricate and theatrical designs. Fireworks and stars littered the night sky surrounding a waning crescent moon. The sounds and smells of cooking, music, talking and laughter filled the night air. The technologies that were brought here were ludicrous, and they rotated on mobile stages high above the heads of the packed audiences.

Thousands gathered here from all over the world. The men dressed in their best suits holding their wives, who were dressed in their finest dresses, arm in arm while they were staring transfixed up at the new inventions being presented under colorful lights. The children at the fair greedily grabbed at Cracker Jack boxes and Cotton floss with little hands as they ran and played various carnival games.

At the entrance to this fair was a gigantic replica of the world, made of the finest steel that was contorted to resemble the different continents. The globe was surrounded by a pool of water which was lit from the bottom up with lights that made it come to life, and which made the pennies that were tossed for impossible wishes, sparkle below the surface. Couples eating and talking gathered around this memorable monument to listen to the jazz bands that played their swinging music. But past the ever growing crowds in front of the bars and food tents, was the performance stage.

The performance stage was fitted gracefully at the bottom of carved stone stairs, which lead the fair-goers down into the earth. A series of benches curved around into a half circle, all facing towards the giant concrete arch that covered the beautifully polished wooden stage that was shining from the lights above. The platform rose up six feet above the first row of seats, to give the sense of awe of just how god-like and gigantic it was. From the top row, everyone would gather around with drinks and friends to lean on the rails and look down towards a performance of a popular jazz band, or the singing melodies of a hundred violins. But today, they were all gathered to hear the teenage pianist, Janik Scherns. Every seat was filled with people talking, laughing, and restlessly waiting to catch the first glimpse of the young prodigy to appear on stage. However, Janik wasn't as relaxed as the crowd of people who were drinking cocktails, and enjoying a late meal.

The young boy stood in front of a wall backstage, his eyes were closed and his forehead was leaning on the cool concrete surface. His fingers were tracing and tapping the memorable patterns of Beethoven on the wall, drumming a rhythm which was permanently drilled into his head since the age of nine. He took a deep shuddering breath when he reached the climax of the piece in his imagination. He continued to tap his now slightly sweaty hands left and right on the cool concrete, imagining that he was in front of a piano.

He felt his forehead getting hot, and a bead of sweat began to form on his brow. The end of the song was near, he only had to finish these last few chords and his imaginative concerto would be finished. He pressed his forehead harder into the wall, and slammed his eyes shut even tighter. His hands were wet with sweat now, and his fingers were getting faster and faster as the tempo in his head became presto. The notes were dancing in front of his eyes, he could see each individual black dot that was named specifically for its tone. He could feel the keys under his fingertips, pressing each one as the ball ping hammer struck the chord and let out a beautiful tune.

The ending chord was resonating in Janik's mind. His fingers now stood still and his head was still pressed tightly against the cool concrete. Breathing heavily, he slowly opened his eyes, and the visions of notes in front of him faded away as he focused on his fingernails.

Janik took a deep calming breath as he stretched out his fingers, pressing them one by one against the wall, feeling his knuckles crack. The tuxedo felt uncomfortably warm and the shirt underneath stuck to him. He wiped his forehead with the sleeve and ran his hands through his short hair as he turned around to walk on stage. It was time for the performance.

The lights were hot and blinding and the crowd was frantically clapping and cheering as the young boy walked out onto the stage. Janik could only see the legs of the first row audience as the faces and the bodies of the rest of the people were covered in shadow. Reaching the edge of the stage, Janik clenched his hands behind his back and, pointing his toes out with his heels together, Janik bowed slightly. Taking his seat on the piano bench with the audience to his side, Janik began stretching his fingers, flexing them against the smooth black wood of the piano. Lightly tracing patterns of his songs on the keys, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Steadying his fingers and his breath, he raised his hands up and brought them down firmly on the keys. The concert had begun.

...

The last chord was ringing grandly throughout the stadium. Panting heavily with his fingers still pressed hard on the keys, Janik was in an infuriated trance. How could he have messed up one of the biggest chords in musical performance? He was flat, and he knew it, yet he continued to let the chord ring out and fade away in the middle of the song, rather than correcting it quickly. With his head hung staring at the black and white tiles, a bead of sweat fell down onto the back of his hand. How many people in the audience knew he had messed up? The last quivering note of the music faded away, and the audience stood with applause. Reaching for the towel that was placed on the piano for him, Janik wiped his hands and his brow furiously before throwing the garment to the ground, picking up his sheet music, and standing up to give a final bow.

Walking backstage, Janik began unbuttoning his suit-jacket. Livid with anger, he threw the coat to the concrete wall, leaving it in a heap on the floor and tossed his sheet music into the air, scattering the parchment in every direction. Walking towards the restroom door, Janik kicked a chair and threw a music stand out of his way as they were blocking his direct path. Bursting through the door, Janik stooped over the sink with his hands on the countertop breathing hard and looking at himself in a mirror. How could you be so stupid! You're a fool! The boy in the mirror taunted. The biggest concert of your life, and you messed it up! All of these years preparing for this one night, and you mess up the easiest part!

_ "_Shut up!" Janik exclaimed with an angry roar as he threw a punch at the boy. With a crash, the glass splintered in several places and Janik was left staring at many faces of the same young man. His knuckles stung, and blood began to drip down his fingertips. Turning on the water, Janik ran his shaking hands underneath the current and began to take a couple deep breaths. After the stinging had faded away and the bleeding had stopped, he ran the cold water over his face and neck and straightened. Looking again at the many staring faces in the mirror, he turned the water off and went out to backstage

Many furs were gathered around now at the commotion. Some were picking up the sheet music while others were standing around the door waiting for him. With an apologetic nod and a "sorry" here and there, Janik strode over to retrieve his jacket from the pile it was in, and left the auditorium.