Mr. Tomas Charl.
I finished the meeting and walked through the bustling hall, shaking hands with Mr. James and Mr. Carl as I made my way out. The lively sounds of music and voices caught my attention, pulling me towards the lobby. As I approached, I noticed a crowd gathered around a musician whose voice was simply enchanting. I could feel the energy in the room shift; everyone was captivated, just like I was. I paused for a moment, drawn in by the sheer beauty of the performance.
The artist’s skill on the piano was mesmerizing, and I felt an unexpected connection to the music. I might not be an artist myself, but I could appreciate the talent on display. I stood beside two older gentlemen who were animatedly discussing the performance, their enthusiasm catching my ear. I couldn’t see the performer’s face through the throng of people, but their conversation intrigued me.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but do you know her?” I interjected, eager to join the discussion.
The first man shook his head dismissively. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do know her!” the second man corrected him, his voice filled with certainty.
“How?” the first man asked, clearly perplexed.
“Do you remember the young girl who competed against the best piano players in the world and actually won?” the second man exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he reminisced.
“Oh yes! She was incredible and exceptionally talented! She was only nine years old! And her voice! Yes! I remember now…” the first man replied, his memory reigniting.
“Exactly! She is that young girl! I recognized her playing! Her fingers dance across the keys! Her sweet voice is unforgettable!” the second man exclaimed, visibly transported by the music, his eyes closed in bliss.
I couldn’t help but interrupt. “But how can you be so sure, sir?” I pressed the second man.
“I am the maestro Donatello, sir!” the second man declared with an air of pride.
“Oh really?! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maestro Donatello! You are so famous! The best maestro ever!” I exclaimed, genuinely impressed.
“I thank you as well, sir,” Maestro Donatello replied graciously.
Just then, the young lady finished her song, and the audience erupted into applause. My heart raced with anticipation to know more about her.
Mr. Donatello, recognizing my interest, motioned for me to approach the young lady, and I felt an inexplicable urge to speak with her. There was something about her that completely captivated me. The moment I saw her up close, I was astonished. I nearly dropped my jaw in awe.
“She is Jennifer! The piano player! The vocalist was her all along!” I whispered to myself, utterly amazed.
I stared at her, unable to take my eyes off her. She seemed shocked, quickly putting on her eyeglasses and covering her face with her hands, perhaps to shield herself from the attention or the memories.
Mr. Donatello began speaking to her. “Jennifer! You are Jennifer! The young girl! I remember you! But why did you disappear all of a sudden after your rise to fame?!” he asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.
“Sir, um, no, not her! There must be a misunderstanding here; you are mistaken, sir…” Jennifer replied, her tone almost pleading.
“No, I am not Jennifer!” she insisted, a hint of desperation in her voice.
“You are the best piano player of this century! I remember you so clearly! Why did you disappear after the accident?!” Mr. Donatello pressed, his voice rising with emotion.
“What accident?!” I interjected, my curiosity piqued. I stared intently at Jennifer, my eyes widening in disbelief.
“Don’t you know, sir, that Jennifer lost her parents in a car crash when she was ten years old? She was in a coma for months afterward. We all thought she might not survive. But the news reported that she recovered and left the hospital, and since that day, we haven’t heard anything about her until this moment…” Mr. Donatello informed me, his expression serious.
“What?!” I exclaimed, looking deeply into Jennifer’s eyes, searching for answers.
She averted my gaze, clearly uncomfortable.
“But why do you look like this, Jennifer?! I remember you! Your long, thick blonde hair! Those vibrant green eyes! Is this a brown contact lens you’re wearing?!” Mr. Donatello pressed, trying to get a closer look at her.
He stepped back, his expression a mix of confusion and realization.
“See, sir? It’s my eyes! I told you, that’s not the same girl you are talking about!” Jennifer insisted, her voice shaky.
And just like that, she turned and walked away, leaving me more bewildered than ever. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she trembled slightly, and I felt a pang of sympathy. Clearly, she was hiding something, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to her story than she was letting on.
It was obvious she was lying, but why? The certainty in Mr. Donatello’s voice only reinforced my suspicions. There had to be a secret, a hidden truth. Why was she wearing brown contact lenses? What was she afraid of?
I followed her, compelled to get answers.
“Jennifer, wait?!” I called out, my voice cutting through the noise of the lobby.
“Yes, sir?” she replied, her tone a mix of annoyance and confusion as she kept her head down, avoiding my gaze.
I decided not to confront her about the incident just yet. I would find the right moment to discuss it later.
So I smiled at her, my voice softening. “Thank you, Jennifer, for the deal… It means a lot to me.”
She let out a long sigh of relief. “Good sir, you don’t need to thank me. It’s my job…” Jennifer chuckled lightly, but her eyes remained averted.
As we walked through the lobby doors on our way back to the house, my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. I didn’t say much, but I couldn’t shake the confusion that lingered in my mind. I hadn’t forgotten what had just happened; I was merely postponing the conversation for a later time. It wasn’t the right moment to broach such a sensitive topic, especially given the gravity of her parents’ tragic death. I felt compassion for her, but the pieces of the puzzle about her past were still eluding me.
What struck me most was the description of her former self. That girl named Jennifer had been stunningly beautiful, and it seemed she was deliberately hiding that from me now. But why? What was she so afraid of?
As we continued on our way, I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of intrigue about her hidden past, and I resolved to uncover the truth.