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“Theo, what is that supposed to be?”
Adalbert points at the peculiar upright piano placed in the middle of a shopping mall. The bottom decoration somehow makes the originally English words look more French than they should.
“Ah, that? Some Brit had the idea of placing pianos around the city.” Theodor turns to face the piano, crossing his arms with a smug smile. “The city council asked for my opinion. I said sure—perfect for tracking down someone who constantly gets lost with a dead phone.”
“I beg your pardon?” Adalbert frowns.
Theodor notices something and points to the left of the piano. “Look over there.”
It is the Austrian—Roderich—approaching the instrument, full of curiosity.
“He has the worst sense of direction, but I swear he’s got some kind of internal music GPS. No matter where he goes, he ends up near a concert hall. With this piano here, at least we no longer have to ask ourselves where the hell he’s wandered off to.” Theodor looks like he has just trapped a little mouse. Adalbert is starting to worry about his mental state.
Roderich stands about five meters from the piano, utterly captivated.
His gaze is fixed, legs twitching, hands almost reaching—
“What is he waiting for now? Just go already!” Adalbert mutters.
There are others around the piano. Some notice how badly Roderich wants to play and gesture for him to take the bench. But Roderich looks around nervously, then mumbles, “No… I am not very good. I would only embarrass myself…”
“God above. I have not wanted to strangle anyone this badly in a long time.” Adalbert clenches a shaking fist. “You excluded, of course.”
Theodor sighs. “Much appreciated…”
The crowd is friendly, encouraging Roderich to sit. He walks over hesitantly and takes a seat with visible uncertainty.
“That child. I swear I’m going to—”
“Relax, Adal. I am not even angry yet.”
Roderich lifts his hands and takes a deep breath. The crowd continues chatting—it’s just another amateur at a public piano.
A full A minor glissando. Adalbert knows immediately what Roderich is going to play. After a measure, Theodor turns around, already mid-facepalm.
“Oh no. Not that piece…” Theodor groans.
“Well, at least it’s a simple piece the crowd can follow. At least it’s not Ravel.” Adlbert says, still wanting to strangle Roderich for his fake humility.
“Sure, but still. It’s completely over the top for a public piano. And he claims he can’t play? Please.”
“He should’ve gone with something like Twinkle Twinkle. Not a Paganini étude.” Adalbert drags Theodor to leave with him. “I know exactly how this ends. Let’s go before he drags the whole city into it.
“The whole point was to catch him before he vanished again!”
Just as Theodor finishes, Roderich ends with a dramatic flourish. He rises, visibly pleased, and the crowd erupts in applause.
More cheers. Then an older man approaches Roderich, brimming with admiration.
“Oh God… that’s Lorin Maazel.” Theodor gasps. “Shit!” “
"My dear sir, you play magnificently. May I ask your name? I do not believe I’ve heard it before.” The conductor of the Munich Philharmonic extends a hand, clearly intrigued.
The next thing Adalbert and Theodor see is a very embarrassed Roderich, both amused and alarmed by the crowd’s reaction.
He pulls a silly face, pretends not to understand English or German, and flees—with the old Germans chasing after him.
“Just play Twinkle Twinkle next time, you pretentious show-off!”