"Did you play the piano when you were younger and want to get back into it? Free piano lessons here at the school! Text this number to learn more!"

That is what the note on the school's pin board says. Normally, there are a lot of notes for sports clubs, board game clubs, media clubs… but music clubs are rare. Ironic, given the status of our school as being an elite music school but below average at pretty much everything else, but then again, the top-notch musical facilities are entirely the doing of the MacGregors, so possibly the regular student body rejects this part of the school as wanting to have nothing to do with them. The MacGregors are the richest family in Uniontown and probably the entire state as well. They own approximately half the businesses in this town, and their money has the principal and superintendent dancing to their tune on command. The family has a student at this school as well—James.

James MacGregor is probably the most despised student at this school, but also the most untouchable. Anyone that dares bully him will regret it incredibly soon, as the family is very protective of their own, and expulsion from school is the least of your worries if you get caught messing with him. James generally acts very cold and distant, and he mostly won't give any of us common students the time of day, practically existing on a different plane of existence to us. I don't believe I've ever even heard him speak. He is also a prodigious piano player and frequently preforms concerts at the school—attendance mandatory for all classes, of course—and he is almost certainly the reason why the musical facilities at this school are as luxurious as they are. Everything paid for by the MacGregors for their son, I presume.

So any sort of postings on the pin board regarding music are rare, since James presumably would never deign to mingle with the commoners, and while there are music lovers at the school, they prefer not to use the school's facilities as a sort of silent protest. But apparently, here is somebody wanting to give piano lessons at the school. I do consider myself a music enthusiast, and in fact, I did play the piano when I was younger, but grew out of it since it was mostly my parents forcing me into it so they could feel like their purchase of a piano wasn't wasted. But now that I'm older and have mellowed out a bit in that regard, it was mostly just laziness and lack of a teacher that kept me away. And hey, this flyer says the lessons on offer here are free! Can't beat that price!

I grab one of the little tags with the phone number that you can rip off and take for yourself. Evidently, I'm the first one that has even shown interest in this, which I did expect. After arriving home that day, I text the number on that flyer and very quickly get a response. The first few texts between us start off a bit strange—the person on the other end seems really interested in my musical tastes—and so we don't really talk a lot about the lessons, but instead just text about music in general. After about an hour of frantic texting, he calls me, and we chat for another entire hour about all sorts of different musical topics. Classical music, rock music, jazz music… it doesn't matter, this guy is interested in all of it. And somehow, his enthusiasm was infectious. We share favorites, recommend each other different new albums, and talk about memories of learning to play the piano.

We eventually set the date for the first lesson: Next Thursday at 7 PM. It's quite late—I don't recall any clubs at school that actually run that late—but I don't have anything else to do, and I presume he has a reason for that. And so, the days go by, and before I know it, it's time. I went home between the end of the school day and when I would have the lesson, so when I arrive at school again at 6:50 PM, the sun had already set—it is quite deep in winter, so that's not exactly unusual—and entering the school feels very strange. Almost eerie in a way. It is completely silent in the halls as I enter, and there's absolutely nobody there, not even a janitor mopping the floors. Walking along the quiet halls, my thoughts briefly turn paranoid, wondering if I wasn't being set up for something, but the enthusiasm that the guy giving the lessons showed me on the phone tells me that I'm just worrying too much. Though I did never get his name.

Eventually, I get closer to the music room, where the lesson is to take place, and as I approach, I start hearing the sounds of a piano. That must be the guy… but wait, I recognize what is being played. The Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, by Liszt. Who the fuck just casually plays Liszt for nobody to hear like it's just a warmup? I certainly wouldn't be able to play that, and I don't think anybody I know that plays the piano would just play the Hungarian No. 2 for the hell of it. Getting closer to the door of the music room, I really am struck by the talent on display as it sounds out through the closed door and into the halls. The only person I know at this school that would play like that would be James, but surely it can't be him, right? I suppose there's only one way to find out.

I timidly knock at the door, wondering if I'm about to get a piano lesson or an expulsion from school for interrupting the snobby virtuoso that gets everything he wants.

"Come in, the door's open!" comes a cheerful yell from the room, not even interrupting the piano playing. That was the voice I heard on the phone earlier, so this is the guy I'm supposed to get a lesson from, but wait, if he plays like that, doesn't that mean…? Sure enough, as I carefully open the door and look into the room, there he is. James MacGregor, the school's hoity-toity nobility, playing the piano with a smile on his face that I've never ever seen him show. Every time I've seen his face, it was a vague scowl or pensive concentration, so seeing him smile is just… so odd.

"Ah, ${Name}, there you are! Don't just stand there, come on in, pull up a stool!" he says, looking right at me without even stopping his play.

I feel my emotions conflict between the hate I thought I had for him and the genuine enjoyment I had talking with him on the phone earlier when I didn't know it was James. Was I just being set up for a fall here, or could it be that none of us had ever seen the true face of James and I'm seeing something he only shows to a very select few? At the very least, I should do what he says, given that he could have me expelled with a wave of his hand, so I grab a nearby stool and sit close to him as I watch in awe. His playing is truly something else—of course, his elite training has a lot to do with that, but there's clearly also a genuine talent and desire behind his skill. Soon, he finishes playing the piece and turns to face me, holding his hand out for a handshake, which I accept.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you, ${Name}. You were in fact the only one to even show interest in the flyer I had put up on the pin board, you know? I was scared nobody was even going to text, so I apologize if I, well, seemed a bit overeager when I first replied to you." he says as he shakes my hand. "Should we get right into the lesson, or do you want to talk a bit first? I did so enjoy our conversation we had on the phone…"

I think it over, and to be honest, I do also want to talk with him first, and so I nod. Much like the first time we talked, we go over so many different topics—the origins of blues, the waltzes of Vienna, what we know about ancient Roman music and more—and his enthusiasm never falters, even when I have to pull out my phone and look up some samples for the things he's talking about. He never seems arrogant or dismissive at all, always interested in what I have to say. It's so bizarre, seeing this new side of him compared to what I thought I knew of him.

After about an hour of talking, my curiosity feels like it has to be sated, and so I ask "Say, James… why are you so cold and distant all the time at school?".

He flinches a bit, as if that is a sore topic for him, but he quickly catches himself. "I suppose I do owe you an explanation, but do be warned, it's quite sappy and possibly a bit overdramatic." I simply give him a nod, signaling him to continue. "So, as a scion of the MacGregors, I was groomed from the beginning to act noble. You know, I had to act my station and all that, and above all not associate with commoners. I was isolated, socially speaking—I did have a few 'friends' from other high-class families, but they were so into business and riches, they just bored me. It quickly became clear that music was my passion, and so while I was given every possible tool and help I needed to succeed in that regard, my music teachers were always subservient, scared to be too friendly with me, lest they catch the wrath of my parents."

He sighs, a sigh filled with regrets. "In a way, I was indoctrinated to act the way I did in school. But as I learned more of music, I learned more of themes in music, including, as you might have guessed, friendship. And I wanted to learn more. And that's why I had that flyer posted. I wanted someone that was interested in music the way I am. But it had to be someone that wouldn't just be interested in being 'friends' with me because I'm wealthy, which is why I never put my name on the flyer and only talked over the phone. Which brings me to you."

He reaches for my hand again, clasping both of his around mine. "When I was texting and talking with you that day… I felt alive, ${Name}. I felt like I found a soulmate. Someone who was interested in James, not the MacGregor, you know? And now that I have you here… will you be my friend, ${Name}? I feel that we have a genuine connection, and I want to nurture it, just like I want to nurture your piano skills. I want to show you the real James, the one behind the wall of high class feelings of superiority."

As I look into his face, he smiles a smile that melts my heart. The way he smiles… it's like I've given him genuine joy for the first time in his life. How can I not want to see that more often? "Of course I'll be your friend, James." I reply, and the way his expression beams when I say that is just magical.

"I'm so, so glad, ${Name}. Now, with that said… how about we play a little? Don't worry, I know you haven't really played in a while, we'll do something simple. How about this? I'll play the left hand, and you sit next to me and play the right hand. How does that sound?" he asks, scooting over on the bench and patting the spot to his right that now opened up.

With a nod, I sit down, and he wraps his right hand around my left. It's such a simple thing to be holding hands, but I'm sure it's something truly special to him, and I'm happy I can give him that. Now that the real James has been revealed to me… I want him to just be happy.

And so, we play. It is a simple piece, like he said, but something about the two of us playing it together makes it an incredible experience to me. Even though I'm a total amateur compared to him, none of that matters right now. And when the piece is over, he turns to me and asks something that is probably simple for some people to ask, but for him it must have taken a lot of courage: "Say, ${Name}… could you maybe sit behind me and wrap your arms around me for this next one? You would be doing me a real favor…"

The look in his eyes tells a whole story. His cold upbringing has probably left him lacking in intimacy, and now that he has me, he desires simple touches. Holding hands, a hug… that's what he needs, and if he needs it, I'm willing to provide.

I position my stool behind him and wrap my arms around him at his waist, nuzzling into his body gently. He lets out a soft sigh of relief, then grabs a remote that he had laying on the piano. Pushing a few buttons, the lights in the music room turn off and the blinds open up, revealing a beautiful view of the moon before he starts playing. I recognize the piece. "'Clair de Lune' by Debussy, isn't it?" I ask.

He nods slowly. "Yes. 'Moonlight'… it's one of my favorite pieces. This… this is why I set our session so late. Isn't the scene here just beautiful?"

The dulcet tones of the piano serenade me as I carefully turn my head to look out of the large windows of the music room. The moon and the stars truly are beautiful. I don't believe I've ever paid attention to them, just accepting them as something that exists in the night, but now they have become something special.

After a few minutes that will stick in my mind forever, he finishes playing the piece. In the following silence, I feel like there is something weighing heavily on his heart. Something he wants to ask, but can't quite bring himself to do. So I have to give him an impetus. With my arms still wrapped around him, I ask "What is it, James? Do you want to say something?".

Some more silence follows, but after another heavy sigh, he eventually speaks. "Yes. There is something I want to ask you. Something I wish to do with you. But you've already done so much for me, so I feel bad asking even more of you. And yet… I suppose that's what friends are for, aren't they? So I will simply ask. ${Name}… I want you to do one more favor for me tonight. I… I want to… I want to