Lily rested by the piano, her fingertips gently touching random keys, creating soft, unconnected sounds throughout the room. She exhaled deeply, her thoughts swirling with anxiety.

The symphony had been her passion, her aspiration since childhood. Currently, that aspiration had vanished, along with her feeling of stability. The conductor had let her go thoughtlessly, selecting his own daughter instead.

She maintained a tiny position instructing music to several grown-ups, but it scarcely paid her apartment fee, never mind groceries and additional costs. Annoyed, she placed her hands firmly on the keys and started to play one of her beloved tunes, channeling her feelings into each sound.

The melody began quietly, but as impressions of her predicament filled her mind, she played more intensely, her fingers hitting the keys with growing intensity.

After the piece finished, the space fell into a deep, significant quietness, as if soaking up her sorrow. Her hands fell weakly to her thighs, and she slowly shut the piano cover, leaning her brow against it. The quiet was soothing, yet it didn’t fix her dilemma.

During subsequent weeks, she examined job openings, submitting applications to anything somewhat connected to music. At last, she discovered a role as a music instructor at a school. She didn’t dislike teaching—she greatly admired educators.

Still, a section of her yearned to produce her own music, to express her heart through her craft, not simply direct others in theirs.

Yet with no alternative choices, she took the position. The school was happy to hire her; they had been looking for someone for several months.

The initial days proved difficult. She wasn’t accustomed to working with children, and they appeared uninterested in her calm, mild teaching approach. She attempted everything—she performed music from famous films, popular songs—any method to capture their attention. But nothing appeared successful.

Then, one day after lessons, as she strolled along the corridor, a gentle tune grabbed her notice. She traced the sound to her classroom, glancing inside. There, at the piano, sat Jay, one of her pupils. He was performing the exact piece she had practiced earlier that day.

“Do you know how to play piano?” Lily inquired, entering the room.

Jay jumped, alarmed. “No… not really. I haven’t played much,” he whispered, gazing at the keys.

“But you were just performing,” Lily responded, a caring smile crossing her face. “And quite skillfully, particularly for someone your age.”

Jay shrugged. “I simply recalled how you played it.”

Lily stared, astonished. She understood that even numerous trained musicians couldn’t perform from memory like that. “Would you like to learn?” she asked.

Jay’s eyes lit up, and a small smile formed on his face. “Really? You would teach me?”

Lily gestured yes. However, she observed his expression sink as swiftly as his enthusiasm had appeared. “What’s troubling you?”

“I… I can’t. I mean, thank you, but… we don’t have enough money,” he stated softly.

Lily examined him thoughtfully. She remembered noting that he seldom dined with the other children. He tended to stay alone. “You shouldn’t worry about payment,” she said kindly. “I’ll instruct you without charge.”

Jay’s face brightened with an enormous smile, and unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you!” he exclaimed.

During the following weeks, Lily and Jay gathered in the vacant classroom after school, their mutual eagerness filling the space. Lily watched with wonder as Jay performed each new composition she demonstrated, his fingers gliding across the keys with remarkable fluency.

Every tone, every harmony, every melody appeared to flow effortlessly from him. She educated him about music notation, directing him through each symbol and beat.

Yet each occasion, she wondered—did he actually require these lessons? His skill was unrefined, intuitive, as if he was destined to play.

As Jay worked on a fresh melody one day, Lily grinned and moved closer. “Have you ever considered performing?” she questioned.

Jay glanced up, surprised. “Performing? Like, in front of an audience?”

“Yes!” Lily answered. “The school festival is approaching. You could play a piece there. You’re skilled enough.”

Jay paused, looking at the piano keys. “I’m not certain… What if I make mistakes?”

“You won’t,” Lily said warmly. “You’re prepared, and I’ll assist you. We’ll select a song together, something you feel comfortable with. You could even choose the piece yourself.”

Jay bit his lip, still uncertain, but slowly nodded. “Okay, I suppose I could attempt it.”

Lily’s spirit lifted. She hadn’t experienced such excitement in quite some time. Teaching him, witnessing his confidence increase—it provided her with a feeling of direction she hadn’t realized she needed.

On the performance day, Lily walked through the packed school corridors, hunting everywhere for Jay. Her eyes checked each room, her pulse racing slightly faster with concern each time she failed to locate him.

He was scheduled to end the show, and time was running short. Other instructors stopped her, asking, “Have you seen Jay? Is he ready?”

She shook her head, feeling more nervous with each inquiry. Suddenly, just as she turned toward the stage, Jay hurried in backstage, appearing flustered and breathless.

“Quick, I need to go on now, before he notices me,” Jay whispered urgently, glancing toward the stage.

Lily placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, sensing his distress. “Wait, Jay. Another act is performing. Who are you hiding from? Why are you so frightened?”

Jay’s face crumpled, his eyes filling with tears. “He won’t allow me to perform. And if he discovers, he’ll have you dismissed. I don’t want that to happen,” he said, his voice breaking.

Lily knelt to meet his gaze, speaking calmly. “Jay, take a breath. Nobody will terminate my job. Who opposes your performance?”

Jay dried his eyes and lowered his gaze. “My father,” he whispered.

“Your father?” Lily repeated, astonished. “Is he… does he mistreat you?”

Jay quickly shook his head. “No, he simply… he prohibits me from playing the piano.”

“For what reason?” Lily inquired gently, confused. “I’m offering lessons for free.”

“It’s not about cost. It’s just that—” Jay began to clarify but stopped as a severe voice called out.

“Jay!” a man shouted harshly. Lily turned, startled to see Ryan standing there.

Lily identified him immediately. Ryan—her former schoolmate from high school. Recollections of those times flooded back. In those days, they had been companions, perhaps even close friends.

Both had aspired to careers in music, aiming for the same scholarship to attend the premier music university. They’d dedicated hours practicing together, studying, encouraging each other to excel.

Ryan’s relatives had never supported his aspirations. His parents considered music useless, undeserving of their son’s attention. But Ryan had persisted, motivated by his passion for it, concealing his goals from them.

The moment she secured the grant marked the transformation of everything. Ryan had viewed her with pain and fury, claiming she had destroyed his future. His statement, “I hate you,” had lingered in her thoughts ever since.

Now, confronting her, she detected that same bitterness in his expression, as if all those years hadn’t elapsed.

“Jay!” Ryan’s voice echoed sharply. “I instructed you not to play music. I banned it!”

Jay looked downward, his voice nearly inaudible. “Dad, I can explain…”

Lily, perceiving Jay’s anxiety, turned to him. “You’re not from an impoverished family?” she asked softly, though she knew the answer. Ryan had inherited his father’s business and was far from struggling.

Ryan laughed mockingly. “Impoverished family? He likely fabricated that tale so I wouldn’t discover these lessons. He even avoided eating at school, hoping I’d never suspect it.”

Lily drew a deep breath. “But why are you preventing him from playing music?” she asked, meeting Ryan’s gaze.

“Because it’s not an activity for a genuine man,” Ryan stated firmly.

Lily felt her spirit sink. “Ryan, that’s not your conviction—that’s your father’s. The Ryan I knew adored music, adored playing the piano.”

Jay’s eyes widened, surprised. “Dad, you used to play?”

Ryan’s stare hardened. “The Ryan you knew vanished. I was youthful and naive. Now I comprehend. Music lacks profit, and it lacks masculinity.” He grabbed Jay’s hand, pulling him away from the stage without another word.

Lily observed Ryan and Jay depart, her heart racing. She couldn’t permit this to conclude this way. Without pausing, she rushed through the corridors and out to the parking area. She spotted them nearing Ryan’s vehicle, Jay looking downward, defeated.

“Stop! Ryan, stop!” Lily called, her voice urgent. “You cannot do this!”

Ryan halted but remained facing away. “This is my child,” he declared loudly. “I possess full authority to determine what’s appropriate for him.”

Lily watched Ryan and Jay walk away, her pulse racing. She couldn’t allow this to conclude this way. Without delay, she sped through the hallways and out to the parking area. She noticed them approaching Ryan’s automobile, Jay gazing downward, overcome.

“Hold on! Ryan, hold on!” Lily shouted, her voice insistent. “You must not do this!”

Ryan paused but didn’t rotate. “This is my offspring,” he announced loudly. “I have complete power to choose what’s beneficial for him.”

Ryan turned to confront her, his appearance stern. “I possessed talent once, too. I had that opportunity, but you seized it from me. Now, I realize it was all absurdity.”

“That’s incorrect,” Lily stated, her voice unwavering. “You don’t accept that, Ryan. And it wasn’t me who removed it. Your parents declined to back you. They never acknowledged your aspirations. I understand that pain, but don’t inflict it on Jay.”

Ryan’s gaze wavered, but he shook his head. “It’s my choice. Jay will not engage in music.”

Lily’s voice elevated with feeling. “End this, Ryan! It isn’t just! You’re rejecting him something he cherishes because of your personal rage—rage at me, rage at your parents. Jay merits a chance to be himself. I could locate another instructor for him, but he requires this. You cannot destroy this aspiration.”

Jay’s voice was faint, but his words were distinct. “Please, Dad. Just hear me. Permit me to play.”

Ryan observed Jay, something easing in his expression. After a lengthy silence, he nodded gradually. “One instance,” he said quietly. “You may play once.”

Lily released a breath of relief. She escorted Jay back into the school and directed him onto the stage. He took his position at the piano, his fingers finding the keys. As he played, the space grew quiet, fascinated by the loveliness of his music. Lily glanced at Ryan, and for the first time, she observed tears in his eyes.

“That was my preferred sonata,” he said to Lily, his voice subdued. “I never possessed the ability to play it.”

Lily smiled gently. “So, does that signify…” she began, but he nodded, giving his silent consent. Lily’s heart expanded with honor as she looked at Jay, sensing that he might represent her greatest achievement.