Chapter 29: Piano Sonata No. 26

Part 1

Tom's Perspective

Look at these peasant buffoons. How disgusting. Although granted, I act like buffoon myself. 

I thought as I looked over the dozen of people gathered at the restaurant that my "father" owned.

No one here... Is good. Well, what was I expecting. 

I only hosted this dinner because Chad politely requested me to. 

I come from an insanely rich family, the richest of the world even, it's so rich that it's hidden, invisible to normal human society. Instead, the wealth and assets of my family is split into multiple different personas, such as Jeff Bezos or other "rich" people. Jeff Bezos, for example may be the richest man on Earth, but that's simply not true. 

He's just a face for a fraction of my wealth. I never really grew up like the other kids, the moment I was put into this world everything was served to me. 

Politicians bowed down to me, presidents bowed down to me, powerful figures, celebrities, Military Commanders, people, anyone you can imagine. 

From this, I've gained an ability that I wish I didn't have. 

Him, him, her, her, him, all disappointments.

I'm able to judge the character of a person just by how they interact with me. 

When faced with money, a person can be stripped of all their covers, projections or whatnot. All that's left on them as they bow to the power of fat cash is their naked true selves. 

After years of looking at the ingenuine greedy faces of rotten people, I can tell just by how they talk. 

Everyone knows who I am. 

I'm the "Son" of a Billionaire. And according to public perception, my "Father" is the fourth richest man in the world. 

That's simply not true. 

My father is gone, I kept him alive in status and name so media and public pressure wouldn't be thrown onto me. I've also moved a long far away, changed my looks and hair colour and joined an orchestra. 

I'm the true Head of the family, but my mother is making the executive decisions, so I don't have to worry.

"Arthur..."

I muttered Arthur's name under my breath as I ate, ignoring the conversations of others around me. 

He doesn't seem... No, I can't get my hopes up yet. 

I've only been longing for one thing, my one sole mission. And it's very important to me. 

It's to find a genuine person. 

All of my 28 years of my life, I have never met a genuine person. Anyone approaching me I could tell had ulterior-motives regarding my money. 

They'd give me a friendly warm smile, hiding their twisted greed underneath that disgusting mask. 

It makes me sick. 

I hate people like that. 

I fucking despise them all. 

But unfortunately, everyone is like that when faced with me. 

"-Don't feed me in front of-" 

"-Say Aah~" 

Right in front of me, on the other side of the table were the new-to-the-social-group members, Charlotte and Arthur. 

Charlotte was being overly affectionate toward Arthur, who told us that she was his girlfriend. 

"Woah this food is expensive, holy!" 

One of the girls seated exclaimed loudly. 

"It is! And it's so tasty!" 

Leah replied as she ate the food. 

"-There's no way we could pay for something as expensive as this, haha!" 

The girls, and some guys laughed as they looked at me, the rich kid. 

Tch.

I clicked my tongue in my thoughts, but I didn't let it show. I simply maintained my facade as the goofy guy. 

"Pfft, don't even mention it. There's no way you poor fuckers could afford this anyways." 

Actually, they could. They really could. 

I replied to them all. 

"Hey Tom, I didn't know you were... Rich." 

A guy sitting beside me shifted his chair over to me.

I took a look at his expression, and almost sighed. 

Another one. 

Another leacher. 

"Heh, what about it?" 

I replied energetically, in pale comparison to my irritated feelings. 

"Nah man, here, take my number, we should be friends." 

This is what I'm taking about. There is no genuineness in this, only the ulterior motive of greed. 

"Write it down and give it to me after the performance tomorrow, I forgot my phone." 

I replied to the guy, trying my hardest to hide the disgust crawling its way up into my face like a hunger-starved mole. 

"Hey Tom, here." 

As I was stood up, I didn't even notice Arthur right beside me when earlier he had been on the opposite side of the table. He must had stood up and walked all over toward me. 

But what was most surprising was: 

C-Cash? Arthur... Is offering to pay me, cash? 

He held out a sum that would be considered a lot for him, but nothing to me. 

No one has ever offered to pay me like this before. 

I looked into his eyes. 

He, he doesn't have that look. 

What look? 

The look of greed, that disgusting vile stench of greed. 

"You're offering to pay me? Man, I'm rich, you don't need to do that." 

With a fake snort I smiled as my chest rose, shrugging my shoulder in a cocky manner as I replied to his gesture. 

N-No one, has ever...

"I don't care, it doesn't sit right with me that I'm eating free food." 

Arthur shoved the money into my pocket. 

This guy... 

As Arthur walked out of the room, I felt some sort of emotion welling up within my heart. 

But this emotion, I've never felt it before. 

What could it be?

Part 2 

Arthur's Perspective 

After shoving the money into his pocket, I decided to walk out while I was at it to head to the bathroom to wash my face. 

Walking past the two employees standing beside the door, which seemed to be a special courtesy for Tom especially. I made my way out into a rich elegant hallway. This narrow long hallway was stationed at the third floor of this overly priced establishment. There was a red carpet laid with very rich ornamentation of pieces of artwork all across the hallway and elegant skinny wooden tables, furnishing a plant, or a telephone that looked like it belonged to the 18th century. 

If a man of high-class from 200 years ago were to be transported into this restaurant, he'd see nothing wrong with this world until he walked out of this building. 

The first floor was filled with tables and looked like your average rich restaurant with lots of customers and guests, and the second floor was probably the same.

But the fact that the third floor looked like it came out of a hallway mansion just demonstrated the distinction of class even in a 5-star restaurant like this, separating the High-Class and the Royal-Class, or something of that wording. 

Tom was insanely rich if he secured something like this. 

But because of this, I was lost. 

"Excuse me, sir. Is there something you need help with?" 

A busty woman wearing employee clothing approached me after noticing that I was just walking all around the place, seemingly lost. 

Well, I was admiring the beauty, but yes, I'm lost. 

"I'm looking for the toilet." 

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"Ah, this way, sir." 

The female employee seemed extra stiff and nervous while directing me. 

It must be because I'm a guest of the third floor, which I assume to be the highest of service and only served to the most special of people. 

I was led by the bathroom and walked inside. 

I stood in front of a sink, looking into the mirror. 

What am I doing...

After I washed my face, I thought. 

I had so many important things to do, and with the current popping notifications, my mind is just confused. 

I have to think, and rearrange everything in my mind. 

School Tutoring Class... Pianist casual work requests... Orchestral Performance Tomorrow, Mountain Concerto Competition in a few weeks, Almost done with the piece's composition... I also have to hand in that composition before the Competition begins too, or else they won't let me play! 

Now, if we were to arrange this into sections. 

It would look like: 

Non-important: Tutoring Class, Pianist Casual work 

Important: Orchestral Performance, Mountain Concerto Competition practise and performance. 

There may have been things that I've forgotten, but oh well, the time will come. 

With my thoughts collected, I closed my eyes and relaxed. 

"Now, I certainly wasn't expecting to see you here, brother." 

I recognised that voice. 

It spoke in a self-centered demeanour, almost condescending. No, with his mental condition, it was definitely condescending. He was a Narcissist, medically diagnosed and proven, through and through. 

"Lukyus." 

It was my younger brother, Lukyus. 

What the hell is he doing here? 

Lukyus stood still, he had walked in not expecting to see me, but the moment he did a smirk came into his face as he leaned against the wall. 

He wore a fashionable colourful suit with tiger stripes with an orange tie with a golden tie clip that had intricate markings and a green emerald in the middle. Dressed up as a rich gentleman. 

His long shoulder-length blonde hair seemed to be gelled back, as if it were a formal occasion. 

"How did you afford this place?" 

"A friend." 

I replied, looking back at the mirror, refusing to look at Lukyus. 

His sharp red eyes, a gene passed down from my grandfather glared at me smugly from aside the bathroom. 

"Y'know, it was really rude of you to remove me from being on your team for the competition without notice." 

Lukyus walked closer to me, forcing me to turn to face him. 

We were around the same height, but if we looked at build, Lukyus's shoulders were broad and wide with some muscle mass. 

To anyone else, he'd look intimidating. 

But he was my little brother. 

"Without notice? Wasn't my outburst in the phone shop not enough of a signal?" 

I referred to the time I first saw mother with Lukyus after years and freaked out. 

Following that, I decided to change my partners from Lukyus to Charlotte for the Competition. 

"Fair enough. Oh well, I don't care. But mother has asked me to re-enter the competition, and beat you. Teach you a lesson in disobedience." 

Lukyus put his hand on my shoulder, patting it gently. 

"Teach me a lesson?" 

I grit my teeth, refusing to let the irritation show on my face. Instead, I clenched my fists and kept listening. 

"Yes, mother has asked me to obliterate you. Completely destroy you with an awing performance." 

"That won't happen." 

I replied instantly, smacking Lukyus's hand off my shoulder. 

"Oh?" 

"Anyways, forget that, what are you doing here?"

Strangely, for Lukyus to be at a place like this didn't seem out of the norm. 

He was a guy who only cared about himself and thought he deserved every luxury in the world, being in a place like this would just make him really happy. 

"Just having dinner with a friend." 

"Ah." 

"-Jestorica."  

Jestorica...? Where have I heard that name? 

"-You don't seem to remember her? Well, she's my partner for the competition. We'll be going against you." 

Lukyus arrogantly turned around, slicking back his already hardened and gelled hair and walked out of the bathroom. 

Jestorica... 

Meanwhile, I was thinking about the strangely familiar name. 

A girl... That I grew up with, only for a little bit.

Fragments of my memories returned, it seemed like I knew this Jestorica when I was a kid. 

But with fragments of the past, I remembered things that I didn't want to as well. 

"Argh!" 

A feeling of thunderous bolt hit my head, tightening around my head suffocatingly. 

It felt like a cursed headache, the mirror contorted as I began to lose control my body, using the sink as a leverage to hold onto myself with my hands. Leaning against it, my neck drooped downward, facing the bottom of the sink. 

"No... No, no, no, no." 

I whispered those words as I clenched my head with my hands, replacing the leverage on the sink from my hands to my chest, my chest holding me up against the sink. 

My fingers dug into my hair, trying to rip into my head and stop the memories from rushing back. 

But of course, that was futile. 

Nothing physical can stop mental thoughts. 

The memories rushed in anyways. 

"No, no, no. No!" 

But each word become louder and louder.

I collapsed onto my knees. 

"Stop... Father... Don't shoot me... Again..."

I muttered out those subconscious words, words from a memory that I'd prefer stay blocked and forever forgotten. 

My hands began to tremble, a large shadow of fear rising, enveloping me from my back and overwhelming my mind. 

Haha... I'm still scared of him, huh? How ridiculous. 

I tried to rationalise my thoughts, trying my best to stand up. 

Within my overwhelmed, confused and dazed mind another memory popped up, a different one. 

It was a girl, hugging me. 

This girl was not Charlotte, she looked nothing like her. She was much older. 

"..."

Thinking about it made my hands stop trembling, and the strength in my knees began to return. 

I was able to stand up again, although leaning against the sink. 

Jestorica.

It was Jestorica. 

That girl in my memory, was Jestorica. 

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