One day, we...

I mean, Gilbert and I.

One day, we were sitting in a cafe. He invited me for a coffee before going to the bar, so we were sitting there, drinking something and talking. The lights, not shining very bright, causing shadows on his face, his voice, old songs playing in the background.

We started to talk about us. I mean, not "us" as a couple, but our hobbies, our plans, dreams, future.

- Hey, Rod?

- Yes?

- What do you want to do in the future?

- Future...?

I didn't believe there could be something like "future".

- Future... You know, Gilbert, I... I suddenly caught myself not thinking about the future. Like it was my destiny, to work there, to hate my job, to never eat normal meals.

- Don't tell me you don't eat properly...

- I don't tell you – well, he just needed to look at me to know that – But, you know, once, I had a goal, a big dream... The biggest dream of my life. I wanted to share my music. I wanted to make people happy. But I... I couldn't do it. I... I need something that I don't have, some charm, or... Charisma? I... I don't know, what it is, need it and I don't have it. And so... My dream is still just a dream.

He smiled warmly.

- You know, I used to be a dreamer. Maybe not as much as you, but... I have a dream. I wanna make people happy. I wanna play the music I love, sing the songs I love, with somebody I love. But I still need something... Maybe a plan? Or maybe rather somebody who'll help me, support me, whatever... Rod – he looked at me – I want to sing. I want to share music. That's my dream. Well, the question is: will you help me?

- The question is not "will you help me", the question is "when will we make our first rehearsal".

And that's how it all started.

- Who. The. Hell.

My ringing mobile phone woke me up.

- Hey, Rod! I've found an apartment for us!

Oh, yes, of course. Who else could call me at six o'clock in the morning?

- Great.. - I yawned – Then...

- We're moooviiing!

I smiled. What else could I do?

A few more months passed. They were passing so slowly... I've sold my apartment, Gilbert have found a job, I started giving piano lessons, he started moving our things to the new apartment...

And then – it was late afternoon, September the 19th, warm, sunny day, we were sitting at the bar, waiting for the evening to come – I told him I can't stand it anymore. I need to move away.

The next day, we came to our new place.

OK. Yeah. The new place. Place. Not "the new Versailles" nor "the new Sanssouci", right. May be full of rats. May be cold. May be dirty. And you're gonna live with Gilbert, who may be a psycho. Or a rapist. Or a disco music fan.

Stop being so excited, Rod.

Anyway, we went to see the new flat. I have to say that it was much, much better from my previous place. Three rooms (two bedrooms and a living room, I'd say) with kitchen and bathroom. Maybe a little bit old and not so warm, oh, and really dusty, yeah, really, really dusty, do I have to clean it?, no you don't Gilbert, but nice.

And a piano. Old, wooden, painfully normal, moldy, dusty, not in tune...

I fell in love with it.

- Gilbert...?

- Yeah...?

- Gilbert, a piano...

- Oh, really? What made you think that, Sherlock?

- No, Gilbert, a piano. A PIANO.

He seemed to be confused.

- I see. And...?

- That means I can play, obviously!

He giggled.

- Wow. You play every single evening!

I sighed.

- Do you think those people would like to listen to Mozart's sonatinas?

He stared at me, then he stared at the piano, then he thought and stared at me again.

- Ok, piano man, you won. Which bedroom do you want?

Gilbert says it was the piano that made us move there.

Finally, I could practice playing my favorite music, and Gilbert could finally sing. The first thing that appeared in the living room (apart from the piano) was a bunch of piano sheets of songs he likes to sing.

- Gilbert?

- Yeah?

- Are these the songs you want me to play?

- Yeah, and so...?

- This. Is. A. Freakin'. Lot. Of. Paper.

- Aw, you're eco pianist...

- No, I mean, yes, but... I have to learn how to play all of them, right?

Gilbert used his .

- You mean... You don't want to play them all...?

- No. I mean it's all so freakin' awesome – I giggled.

Gott, I'm overusing the word "freakin'". I bet it's because of Gilbert.

I've never used that word before.

...It's a freakin' awesome word!