Although he was known mostly for his behavior regarding relationships, but for the most part just the actions that went along with it, Francis was also a man deeply involved with culture. It was a habit of his that he always went to, at least, a concert every month. It was quite easy to do as well due to the close proximity of the arts centre to his home.
That month's performance was a piano concert. He'd chosen it in advance because of the person playing for it; it was someone he didn't know anything about. He wanted to take a chance.
The night of the performance he was glad that he had chosen to attend this particular performance, or rather he was glad that the concert he'd chosen was on this day; he'd been dumped that day. A concert was just what he needed to distract himself.
This was nothing new for him. He had relationships with many people all of the time, sometimes it was even all at once. This one just struck him a bit harder because he'd actually decided to become serious, to even try to be serious, for the relationship he'd just been booted out of. It was only last month that he had made the resolution to give it his all and keep a relationship together for once in his life, and already he had failed it
His back slouched and his head sank down to his knees where he cradled it between his hands. He let his grief overwhelm him. He didn't even notice when the pianist, the solo performance for the night, was guided onto the slightly raised stage.
He did notice when he started playing though, he was amazing. He knew that he was staring, but hey, so was everyone else.
'It's beautiful.'
He was awestruck, and sat staring at the wavy-blond haired man sitting in front of the grand piano on the stage long after the song had finished, and another had started. He ended up sitting there even after the entire performance was finished and the man was handed his guide dog and helped off the stage.
It took him even longer after that to realize how much he had liked the feelings the playing had wrought in him, and how much he wanted to hear them again, every day. But by then the moment had long passed, by several days even.
It took him even longer after that realization for him to find the blind pianist again. The longest amount of time in the world, or so it seemed. Looking at the calendar, he knew it had been only two years.
It was only by chance that he'd found him again. No matter how much he had looked, it was by accident that he'd seen him. If he hadn't wandered into the wrong hotel and seen him registering at the front desk, who knows how long it would have taken to hear the sound of his music again.
But, then again, such is the game of life. You get a few things wrong, but you do get some lucky breaks.
And now he gets to hear that music every day.
Inspired by Juby Phonic's cover of the song. I was watching it, and it struck me how much the fourth life looked like it could be Canada (with longer hair) or France. Then it showed the part about the guy that's a feminist, and I was like 'Hm, yeah.' It could just be that I wasn't wearing my contacts at the time though.