Homework! Go and look up All of Me, by Jon Schmidt (NOT John Legend!) Give the song a quick listen.
All of Me
A piano. That was the last thing Cole expected to find when he opened the library door at the end of Hall Four.
The walls of the large room were fit floor to ceiling with shelves of books. It took his breath away.
I'm supposed to be running an errand for Cyrus, he told himself as he ran his fingers over the dusty cover of the old grand piano. He needs a book. An important book.
Reluctantly, he wiped his fingers clean and went to the first shelf. Something about...Loss of Liberty. Brown hardcover book with a torn jacket. Written by a man named Keryn...uh...
His eyes landed on the cover of a book he recognized.
Lou Hiroto.
Eagerly, Cole snatched it from the shelf and examined the cover. The book looked as though it had been used.
Cole knew this book. He had memorized it cover to cover. It was a book written by his own father when Cole was still in the cradle.
His original task forgotten, Cole rushed to the piano and opened the cover.
His father's music, played for him on those nights when he was restless. And after Via was born, Cole would, at the age of six, play the same songs to lull her to sleep.
Get back to work, a little voice in his head told him. We don't have time for this right now.
Cole shushed it and flipped the book to the first page. The simplest song. A good place to start, since he hadn't played in ages. He positioned his fingers over the ivory keys and took a deep breath.
"Aha. I was right," a voice behind him said.
Cole leaped up, slamming the piano lid loudly. "Borg. I-I got...distracted."
Cyrus wheeled in, eyes sparking. "It's all right. I didn't actually need that book."
"Then why did you ask me to come here?"
Cyrus gestured to the piano. "You needed a hobby, and Kyle had a hunch. His hunches are rarely wrong."
Cole muttered under his breath. "He sure got Kai and me wrong."
"Hmm? What was that?"
"Nothing."
"Mmm." Cyrus plucked the book from Cole's hands. "You play Hiroto?" He chuckled. "I tried. It's too difficult for me."
"I've been playing it my whole life," Cole said.
"So you know them?" Cyrus asked.
"By heart."
"Excellent!" Cyrus opened the book and flipped through it. "You know, this one right here was always my favorite. But no one I know can play it. I need to rest for a few minutes, and I'd like to hear it."
Cole paled when he saw the song Cyrus was pointing to. The most difficult one in the book. It was nearly ten pages long and went so fast that the fingers looked like a blur.
"Can't you play?" Cyrus asked. He looked disappointed.
Hesitantly, Cole nodded. He gulped and seated himself again at the bench, skimming over the pages to make sure he remembered it all.
"I put myself into this song, son. All of me. This is my feelings for you and Mother and little baby Via. You can't play it unless you feel it, too. Are you ready to learn?"
Cole began to play.
The song started majestic and gentle. Like Father.
"You're giving a lot, son. But you need more. More heart. More passion."
Cole's small hands struggled to cover the periodic nine or ten note stretches, but he managed. He'd done it as a child, now was no different.
"Look around you. Can't you feel it? It's the heart of our family, beating a glorious rhythm. Pound it out. The song is strong, and so are we."
Cole's hands danced with the rhythm. It was like hammering out a drumbeat on a single key, then a pair of keys.
Within moments, the heart of the song exploded with passion, and each of his fingers were occupied with keeping up a melody so fast that his fingers seemed to soar.
"That's it, son! You're feeling it. More!"
Up and down the keyboard, too sophisticated for any old violin euphony to compare.
A bead of sweat fell from Cole's brow as he realized what was coming next. He leaned forward and pounded at least ten black keys with his arm, then bounced right back into position. A few moments later, he did it again.
"Power! Passion! Strength! Beauty! Love! That's what this is, son. Don't you forget it. Finish strong!"
Cole did. Breathless and sweaty, his fingers danced through the final phase of the song, and he let the notes fade away.
"I should not have been able to do that," he said, panting. "It's been months. No, years. I haven't touched a piano in so long. And to just...pick up a song like this one..."
"You have a gift," Cyrus said, sounding as though the air had been pounded from his lungs. "That is...an incredible gift. Why, there's only one person I can think of who would compare. And he..."
"Lou Hiroto," Cole said. "My father."
"Your...what?"
Cole closed the piano lid and stood shakily. "He had me practicing my scales before I could even walk. This isn't a gift. It's just discipline. I hardly had a choice; my father made me learn."
"But you enjoyed it," Cyrus said. "Having your father pushing you, telling you that you could always be better."
"...Yeah."
"I have a question," Cyrus said. "This has been bothering be for a while. But...you see here, this other song on page twenty-seven..."
Cole found the page and frowned. "What about it?"
"It seems unfinished," Cyrus said. "Like he had all this fiery passion, and it built up to a climax- and then it ends. Just like that."
Cole knew there was a reason. It was there, shrouded in shadows. A dark secret that he could not quite remember.
A secret he didn't want to remember. There were some things best left in the past.
"It was a new style," Cole lied. "Father wanted to experiment. I never really cared for it, though."
"Hmm." Cyrus grew thoughtful. "What if you could change the ending?"
"Change it?"
"Add more to the end. Just a page. Give it a finished feel. Closure."
"No!" Cole gasped, then cleared his throat. "I-I mean...no. Sorry. I can't touch that song. It's...special."
"Special? How?"
It was Via's-
Cole dropped the book and fled the room. Don't. I don't remember!
...I don't want to remember.