The stadium overflowed with anticipation. Benjamin had eyes for none except the piano in the centre. His piano. On it, he was home more than at his own home.
He looked at the keys, sensing how the cold keys would warm up as he played. The wooden body shone bright and welcoming.
He sat and a breathed deep. One moment, his hands hovered but the next, the music took over. His fingers waltzed on white and black keys alike, never discriminating.
He sat impassive, mind guiding his fingers. He couldn’t hear the applause. Or the sound of his own music.