Slowly but steadily I lose myself to the melancholy sound you create, no longer aware of the hundreds of eyes that are on me. This, it's not enough, still not enough. I'll never be completely satisfied.

My fingers slide over the cold keys, smoothly, without looking at the music sheet I remember exactly where I need to be because you're the one who is leading me. The notes dances around me, gently comforting me, telling me, "I'm here." You're the only one who will never change. Unlike my family and friends who only stay by my side because of this accursed fame, but you won't change, will you?

Make a more beautiful sound for me my lovely, merciless, piano. Louder and louder, I want to hear your voice. Faster, play faster. So I can immerse myself into the symphony, drown in it's sweet and bitter taste. With each high note, my breathing escalates, my skin becomes so sweaty that the dress I'm wearing clings to me but I ignore it, nothing else is more important than this moment.

Ahh, Fantaisie-Impromptu, how you break away my innocence, delving me in the depths of it's melodies. For days I haven't eaten, for days I haven't slept because of you, it took me everything to finally be able to play you with perfection, living up to your name. As the piece starts to come to an end, I can already feel my reluctance to walk away. Please don't be sad, please don't cry, I'll always come back. Sing for me, cherish me and I'll love you even more. But I wonder, am I trying to reassure you or myself? Hoping that you won't ever abandon me.

The silence fills the atmosphere, my blue dress swings as I stand and face the audience. And all at once the sound of hands clapping echoes in the huge hall, hundreds of people stand and cheer. I bow my head respectfully and walk down the stairs. Hey, can you hear that? Their not cheering for me, but for us. The sound of the applause, the cheering of the audience, their amazed expressions! They love us!

Holding the rail carefully, I climb my way down. It seems like the exhaustion has finally caught up with me. As I reach the bottom, I shake hands with the president of the company that wished to make a contract with me. My hands are sweaty, shacking and he even though he realizes it, he ignores it. Instead he says to me, "Your playing was quite the performance, I would like to work with you in the near future. "

I look at the guy, smile and answer to him, with my voice hoarse, "Well of course. It is after all my obsession." My sight starts to become blurry and I lose focus of the conversation. My body is feeling heavy for some reason. Distantly, I hear the yelling of my name but it's pointless. My conscious begins to fade and I pray to have a dream where I get to listen to the sweet sound you create.

My piano, my obsession, how charming and cruel you can be.