Chapter 24
Josh
Gently, I move the fingers of my right hand, clench them into a fist, and release. The joints still feel stiff, but according to my doctor, that's completely normal less than forty-eight hours after the surgery. The healing process is going well, and the procedure was a success. And even though I can hardly believe it, I’ll be able to start playing the piano again in just a few days. Until then, I retreat to an island in the Stockholm Archipelago. It was Maya's idea, and now, as I look out of the tiny window of the wooden house, I have to admit that she was absolutely right.
The summer makes the leaves of the trees shine in various shades of green. The air is clear, the sky cloudless. I can even see the weathered jetty where Sophia and Maya sit. Their legs dangle over the water, their heads bowed. Over and over again, my daughter excitedly points at the water. They are probably observing the fish venturing close to the rocky shore in the glittering Baltic Sea. At the same time, they chatter and laugh incessantly. They look so harmonious. Everything they do is full of lightness. And as I observe them through the window grates, a longing grows within me.
I want to feel the same ease that they carry within them.
I have felt it. When Maya kissed me two days ago in the hospital. At that moment, nothing else mattered. There was only her and me, and the rest of the world lost its significance.
All the weight on my shoulders disappeared. For a few minutes, I was free. With that feeling, I eventually fell into a twilight sleep.
When I woke up, it was chaotic. Tamika appeared in the room. There were appointments for follow-up examinations and physical therapy, conversations with doctors, press releases, and bandage changes. Maya and I didn't have a single second alone. And today, when we moved into this red wooden house with a view of the endless expanse of the Baltic Sea, Sophia and Maya immediately went exploring.
Does she still think about our kiss? Does she long for a repeat as much as I do?
I try to read something on their faces from a distance, but they appear as they always do. As if they were trapped in a shimmering soap bubble full of wonders.
The door next to me flies open, and Tamika enters. Even here, in the rustic atmosphere of the wooden-furnished kitchen, she wears a stylish blazer with her fabric pants. And she doesn't lack her high heels either, nor the determined look. I only need to look at her to know she wants to discuss business matters with me.
"We absolutely need to plan our next steps," she says, sinking onto the corner bench padded with fur.
I would much rather go outside and see if there's still room for me in Maya's soap bubble.
"Focus, Josh!" Tamika's voice cuts through my thoughts like a razor blade. "Your approval ratings are plummeting. If we don't act smart now, you can forget about the music award. Your competitors have surpassed you."
What? Has it come to that?
Immediately, she has my attention. Because I realize more than ever that I can't afford any distractions in this situation. "Since when have you known?" I ask.
She dismisses my question with a casual shrug. "It's not important. Right now, we should be grateful that nothing about your illness has leaked. From now on, it's all about catching up."
Feeling defeated, I pull a chair closer and sit down. Do I still have a chance? "Go on," I say.
My manager opens her folder and takes out the diamond-studded pen. "Your final follow-up examination is the day after tomorrow. I have booked our flights back to Vienna for the same day." Point by point, she goes through her notes, explaining when we will land and what events await us in the evening. "Then you can start practicing. You've got two weeks where you've got some additional amends to make for the fans."
I study the schedule. Book signings, television appearances, and interview appointments seamlessly fill it.
"It's been far too long since you've been in the public eye. Journalists already suspect that something is amiss. If they find out what has been going on in the past few weeks, they will tear you apart, and negative press is the last thing you need right now. You need to preemptively defuse the situation." She looks at me determinedly, and I give a brief nod. "On August eleventh, you will perform a concert on Patscherkofel in Tyrol." Her pen moves across the paper. She checks off everything she has already mentioned. "The mountain backdrop is stunning. Look here."
I immerse myself in the picture she presents to me. Indeed, it's breathtakingly beautiful. On the mountain, there is only a small flat area where the stage is set up. The audience sits on a gently sloping hill amid pine trees and grass. From there, people not only enjoy the show but also the panorama behind the stage. The towering peaks of the snow-covered glaciers rise majestically on the horizon.
"That will be amazing," I say because I genuinely look forward to playing there. Just as I do to go on a hike with Sophia and Maya.
"Logistically, the location presents a real challenge, but I have it under control." With a proud nod, she puts the picture away and flips through her notebook. The next page is also filled with appointments. "After Tyrol, we move on to Switzerland. Concert on August fifteenth at Lake Geneva, and a week later, you will perform in Paris. In between, we will record the first tracks of your new album, and you'll need to finalize the compositions for the remaining songs so the orchestra can start rehearsing."
Wow. There won't be a three-hour stretch without an appointment in the next few weeks.
Thoughtfully, I pull the documents closer to me and study what Tamika has written down for me.
So this is my life.
Appointments. Obligations. Plans.
Where are the things that touch my heart? When will I lose myself in music? What about Sophia? And where are the moments when Maya and I can finally let ourselves drift?
Startled by my own thoughts, I close the documents and quickly rise from the chair. As far as I can remember, there was always only one thing that mattered. The piano. What has become of this passion? Has my dream turned into a harsh business reality?
"Is everything okay?" Tamika sounds alarmed.
I step to the window and look out at the two people to whom I would gladly give a piece of myself, just as much as my career. "When did this happen?" I ask, my voice devoid of emotion. "When did my dream turn into hard-core business?"
Suddenly, my manager stands right beside me. "That's just how it goes. If you want to be successful, you have to make sacrifices." Her shrug tells me that this is normal for her. "And you do want to be successful, don't you?"
Yes, I do. Since I can remember, I've had only one goal: to prove that I am good enough.
I have about five weeks left to fight until the decisive final of the music award. A minor detail compared to the twenty-six years I have already invested in fulfilling my dream.
I can do it. No, I must do it. I owe it to myself.
Lost in thought, I nod.
"Good." Tamika grabs my arm and looks deep into my eyes. "The worst is over. Your hand is okay, and we are back on track. You can catch up. But only if you give it your all," she pleads.
She's right. My goal is within reach, so I force a smile onto my lips. "Let's get started."