"Mr. Sergei, I can't do this."

Not a sound came from Sergei Manakoff as he observed Erik from his chair, though it did seem like a slight amount of annoyance found its way onto his face. That scared Erik.

He's going to kill me.

Sitting there, feeling hopeless, Erik came to his senses and decided he had no choice but to tackle the challenge before him. He knew he needed to focus, and that making an excuse wouldn't make this any less painful. And besides, he was Sergei's property for the next hour.

Sergei coughed, in a seemingly urgent manner.

Lord, help me.

Erik saw that it was now or never. He was only wasting time.

Finally, after a considerable amount of inner struggle, Erik cracked his knuckles and placed them down before him. In an instant, they had disappeared into a fury on top of the black and white keys. The room around him was filled with the beautiful sounds of the piano.

Sergei had been working with Erik on a piano concerto for a couple months now, and Sergei planned for Erik to perform the piece in public next week with the Markovatsk National Orchestra – the most reputable of professional orchestras in the country. Erik was Sergei's star piano student, and he had taken great pride in the boy's talents.

Erik was working on the third movement of the concerto, a technically difficult part of the whole piece. It was the fastest of the movements, requiring Erik to utilize every mechanism in his hands and the utmost concentration. There were listless things about the piece which made it difficult, but Erik had nearly perfected it. Nearly.

There was one section of the movement which Erik had not yet played correctly, and it had been frustrating him for some time. Once he had that part down, Erik would be ready to play the piece publically. And that part was approaching quickly.

Okay, Erik, you can do this. Focus. The sooner we do this, the better. You need to.

The music came out of the piano so naturally under his magic touch. He barely had to think about what was actually going on at the moment, it was just so fluid and expressive, and almost inhuman. It was heavenly – a beautiful boy playing beautiful music.

The obstacle was only a few bars away.

No excuses. No turning back.

It was so close.

I can't let myself down.

Mere seconds.

Do it!

Suddenly, he realized that he had not stopped when he was expecting. There was no error in his playing. Nothing had left him feeling disgusted in himself, no more disappointment or apprehension. There were no sour notes. Just music. The correct music. And the piece continued, and continued, and continued. Erik had finally overcome the challenging section in the concerto. And it left him feeling ethereal.

The remainder of the piece was even more spectacular. Clearly, Erik's happiness had overcome his playing and the style and sound took on a different and even more beautiful feeling. He felt unstoppable, and the result was wonderful. Finally, the piece concluded just as dramatically and quickly as it had begun.

Erik sat silently and undisturbed in front of the piano, his hands still in place of the final chord. He was breathing heavily, still in the awe of the moment. He couldn't believe that he conquered the difficult passage which had plagued him for so long. Then, bringing Erik back into reality, Sergei began to clap, slowly.

"Congratulations. You are ready. "
He didn't turn around to look at his teacher yet. He was still entranced in the moment.

"Don't ever make excuses again."

That following statement sounded a little harsh compared to the prior commending remark, making Erik now reluctant to look at him. Sergei's method of encouragement for Erik was often harsh and difficult for a young person to process as positive, so Erik often found himself actually terrified of his teacher. Perhaps that is why he became so learned at the piano, out of fear for Sergei's lectures. Erik had come to understand this, but that still hadn't erased his apprehension or his susceptibility to his teacher's condemnations, like the one Erik was moments from experiencing.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Sergei –"

"Erik, don't you dare apologize. I'm sick of you trying to do so." He placed his hand on Erik's shoulder, causing him to look over his shoulder. "You should never feel sorry for anything you do, and you shouldn't be so scared to do something. That's absolutely stupid."

"Yes, sir."

"Musicians are not stupid. So don't do stupid things like making excuses."

"Yes, sir."

"All the greatest musicians have made mistakes at some points in their lives. And all the greatest musicians have encountered hardships. You are no exception, so don't think you are."

"Yes, sir."

"You have to go through the music – you have to go through life! – tackling each piece and every challenge without regret or remorse, otherwise you'll be setting yourself up for disaster. You're just going to end up confused and conflicted if you do this, and I don't want to see that happen to you. You are an exceptionally talented person, Erik.

"Thank you, sir."

"You aren't a stupid person, either."

"Thank you – "

Sergei swung around in front of Erik, cutting him off. "So don't make stupid excuses!"

Erik was completely silent as Sergei's words echoed in the small studio. He had understood his teacher's point, and he wouldn't forget it soon, especially with his big performance just around the corner. Sergei knew best.

"Forgive me for sounding harsh, Erik, but you needed to hear that. You've sat here, working on this piece for months, making silly excuses for the little errors you make. But that's so unnecessary! Are you aware how beautiful your playing just sounded? It was remarkable. I envy your abilities. I wish I was half the musician at my age." He patted Erik on the back, showing a definite mood change. Still, Erik bowed his head in humility at the piano, unresponsive, like an injured dog. "You're too polite, Erik."

"I won't make excuses anymore. I don't want to disappoint you."

Sergei chuckled. "Erik, if you are playing so beautifully out of fear for me, then I'm afraid I can't allow you to be my student anymore!"

Erik himself laughed a little, understanding what his teacher meant.

"Play only because you want to. Never be someone else's instrument," said Sergei, turning away from Erik. "And with that thought, I think we're done for today. I'll let you go a little early."

"Thank you, sir." Erik slid the chair away from the piano, standing up and breathing a sigh of relief.

"You've earned it, Erik. I'm incredibly proud of you," said Sergei, collecting his materials and heading for the studio door. "Stop by sometime later in the week after my normal lesson times, just to have a final run-through before next week. I'm sure you'll be fine, but it's best to be safe than sorry."

"Yes, sir."

"Please, let yourself out. I'll see you soon, Erik." Sergei closed the door behind him.

Erik collected his music, his metronome and his school books and prepared to put them in his book bag. As he did, he took a moment to look at one of his books – a book on alchemy. It wasn't actually one of his school books, because his school, being devoutly religious, condoned the study of alchemy. He had it with him at all times, though, constantly sneaking peaks between classes and hiding it under other books during classes, trying to learn as much as he could.

"Soon," he said aloud, placing it deep into his bag. With all his things secured, he made his way to the door.

When Erik walked outside of his piano teacher's house, he found his best friend, Jason Malkin, eagerly awaiting him on the sidewalk. He was standing there, waiting impatiently and kicking rocks and other objects around the sidewalk. He himself had just come from baseball practice, so he was dressed sloppily in a cap and a dirty old uniform, which barely fit his bustling physique, and on one of his arms he was carrying a bag of his equipment.

On top of this intimidating body defined very clearly through the tattered uniform sat a very kindly face, made complete by a cocky smile, a pair of deep blue eyes and a head of messy brown hair. His figure and looks had Jason constantly in complicated situations with women (though they were patient, knowing he'd make his way around to all of them), and outside of his physical ability and boyish good looks, he wasn't really a smart person.

"The piano genius is finally released from his prison! And early? That's almost unheard of!" Jason laughed and gave his friend a joking punch in the arm.

"Ouch!" Erik rubbed his arm, having felt some pain from the playful strike. He was a strong person himself, but Jason was a far more athletic person and didn't understand his own strength. "If you keep that up, I won't have limbs left to play a piano."

"Ah, quit being such a baby," said Jason, as they began to walk down the sidewalk. "I could never hurt you."

"So you think," laughed Erik. "But when I tell Sergei I can play because you broke my arm, I'm sending him after you. I'm pretty sure he'd kill you."

Jason scoffed, rolling up his sleeves and flexing both of his biceps in a he-man fashion. "That's only if he even lands a punch!"

"You're one-of-a-kind," said Erik, shaking his head. "If only you had a brain –"

"Hey!" yelled Jason. "You know how it is, man. You solve your problems with that freak of a brain you have –"

"And you solve yours with hockey sticks and baseball bats."

"Hell, yes!" laughed Jason. "And that's why you need to help me study, bud." He wrapped his arm around Erik in a mockingly endearing manner. "I love you, man!"

"You love my intelligence, Jason –"

"Dude, don't even say that! I've been you're best friend since before you became a freakin' piano virtue and before you became the smartest person in our school."
Erik laughed. "And I've been your friend since before you became a brainless, muscle-armed brute. And by the way, the term is piano 'virtuoso', not virtue, and I'm hardly the former."

"Like hell you ain't! Bud, in the future, we're both gonna be famous, the best of our trades. And I'll always be sure to thank you for makin' me smart." He punched Erik again.

"And I'll dedicate a piece or two to you," said Erik, as he rubbed his arm, "or maybe I'll just mention you in my bio."

Erik Romanov and Jason Malkin were probably the most unlikely pairing for best friends in their school. Jason was the most popular person and the star athlete of the school. He was brainless, but harmless, and incredibly friendly, and had mountains of people wanting to befriend him (in various ways, especially with women). Meanwhile, Erik was popular for another reason – his intelligence and musical ability. It was most likely that he'd graduate at the top of the class and his musicality had encouraged a few murmurs, but compared to Jason, he wasn't what the school found as "amazing". He was quiet and polite and kept to himself, though he was sociable when he needed to be and he did have friends. However, Erik himself was also a star athlete – a swimmer – but his humility and tendency to be quiet about everything sometimes made people forget how good he was. He actually had a few gold medals sitting in his room. Still, despite the unlikelihood, Jason and Erik managed to hold and maintain a strong and incomparable friendship. And no one questioned it, they just accepted it.

"By the way, when's your concert thing again? I wanna make sure I free up my schedule, and I need to get a ticket."

"It's next Wednesday. And don't worry about a ticket, I can get you one for free," offered Erik.

"No, don't worry about that. You're worth wasting some money on!" Jason put his hand on Erik's head and messed up his hair a little. "By the way, I think I'm bringing someone?"

"Bring whoever you want, I won't mind."

"It's Sarah Ivanov."

Erik gave his friend an awkward glare.

"Oh, I get it. Let me seduce her with my musical talents, weaken her a bit, and then you sweep her away and take her back to your place."

Jason roared with laughter. "Dude, that's not even close! I was talking to her the other day, y'know, working my charm, and she seems pretty interested in this music stuff. She plays the violin, and I guess that's like the piano."

"Not really, but nice try."

"Hey, I was just trying to talk to her, dude! And you know how she's always like an awkward puppy around you. You're in all her classes, and you guys talk sometimes, and I think she wants to be your friend or something. I think she likes ya, bud. She seems really interested in what you do."

"I doubt it," said Erik, but he still blushed. "You can bring her, though."

"Dude, you should really try talking to her for real sometime. She's a pretty cool girl."

"Maybe later. Right now, piano and school are the only things I need stressing me out. And tutoring you is the only other extracurricular activity I can allow myself."

They were nearing Erik's house, which was their usual parting point, provided they didn't decide to go to each other's homes for some other reason.

"Speaking of making me smart, when do ya want me over tonight? I need help with history." He paused. "And calculus." He paused again. "And physics –"

"Why don't you just bring all your books, and we'll decide from there," said Erik, chuckling. "Have you ever tried studying on your own? I'm just curious."

Jason snorted. "Erik, you know I can't do that. Every time I look at a book, I just think about how much better a sport is."

Erik smiled. "Be over at the usual time. If you want, you could stop over for dinner," he said, "but please don't come all dirty like that. You know how my Dad is –"

There was a sound from behind Erik. It was the sound of a book hitting the ground – one from Erik's bag.

"I'll get that, bud." Jason was on the book in a second. His reflexes were pretty fast. "I think there's a whole in your bag …"

He was silent as he looked at the book, and Erik quickly realized what book it is.

"What's 'alchemy'?" Jason looked dumbfounded as he analyzed the book.

"Uh, it's noth–"

"Oh, this is one of your advanced classes. I get it. They're so hard I've never even heard of it!"

"Yeah, that's it," said Erik, going along with his friend's wrong conclusion. "It's a hard one. Sometimes it stumps me."

"A class that stumps you? Now I've heard everything." Jason lifted his cap and scratched his head, and a bit of dirt fell to the ground. "Well, I guess I'd best go home and take care of this. Seeya in a bit, bud."

As Jason ran down the sidewalk to his house a couple blocks away, Erik stood there and reflected on the moment. He was thankful Jason was naïve enough to make such a conclusion; it saved Erik a lot of stress. He was always worried about people finding out about his alchemy. He wasn't really sure why he'd worry. Erik just felt that if anyone found out about his study of alchemy, only bad things would happen.

"Thank the Lord, you're stupid, Jason."