TWICE ONESHOTS

Ep. 31 | MOMO

WARNINGS: smut, blow-job, age gap   ;   Word Count: 5 k

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It's the first time in eight months that Momo has asked you to stay after rehearsals. Moreover, deep down you want to believe it's just so you had more time to practice the piano solo you're going to play in a few weeks, but the way she looks at you makes you have other kinds of thoughts.

You have your hands just resting on the piano keys while you wait for her to say something. You played the song she composed over and over again without missing a single note, and yet you believe that something is still bothering her. "Again." she says, looking at the pieces of sheet music in her hands.

" Momo..." you say in a shy tone, and her gaze turns to your eyes.

"Maestro." she corrects you.

"Yeah, sorry, Maestro." you curse yourself internally for having called her by her first name, knowing that within this auditorium she does not tolerate informalities. However, you are so tired, your fingers feel like they're going to fall out of your hands from so many hours playing the instrument, that all you want is to go home, your brain just isn't working properly. "Are you sure you want me to play again? I mean, I think it's already clear that I know this song by heart, I didn't even need the sheets to play it..."

"I know, but I still want you to play one more time," you don't even think about contradict her, even though your fingers are practically numb you're not crazy not to do what she asks. You feel intimidated by her presence, and you know you're not the only one to feel this way around her. Momo is one of the best known names in the music business for being an amazing composer and conductor, and also for her reputation as a serious, busy, arrogant, and even rude person. But you don't care. Just the fact that you have the opportunity to be part of her orchestra makes all her harsh comments worthwhile. You just want to be like her, a virtuoso pianist. "Am I gonna have to repeat myself?"

You're snapped out of your thoughts and back to reality, realizing that your Maestro is staring at you seriously, just waiting for you to keep playing the piano. And you do. You play the song she composed, already imagining the tears of emotion that will fall down the audience's cheeks a few weeks from now. Your fingers — even weak — wander over the instrument's keys almost as if on automatic, again, you have played this song so many times that you can play it with your eyes closed. And you know she wants perfection, you know she wants to push you off to the extreme just to make sure you're not gonna make any mistake. Moreover, you smile internally knowing that you're successfully proving to her that you were the right choice. Any other pianist couldn't be as good as you, humbly speaking of course.

You play and play, the auditorium filled with nothing but the beautiful sounds of the notes being combined. For a moment you think how she manages to create such incredible pieces, you try to imagine how difficult it must be to compose a song. You'd give anything to have that talent, you'd do anything for people to start recognizing you as a famous pianist too. Your dream is to work in this field, even if your parents say that being a musician will only make you poor, you try to ignore them.

"Okay, that's enough." she says, after you've finally finished the piece again. She takes off her glasses, hanging them on the collar of her shirt before starting to walk towards you. You don't know exactly what time it is, but you know it's late enough that your parents must be already wondering why you're taking so long. Yes, you still live with them. "You're really talented; if you keep it up I might even consider taking you on the world tour."

You cannot process everything at once. First, she called you talented; she never, ever spoke any praise towards any of the musicians who play for her before. And second, world tour? Is this really happening? This might be the dream of any musician, to go around the world playing the instrument they love, especially if they're playing that instrument in the orchestra of one of the most famous composers of recent years. "Wait, really?" you try not to sound too excited, but it's evident in your voice how much this news has positively affected you. "Mo- Maestro this is... my god this is like a dream for me."