Vanstein Copyright

Chapter 3 – Piano Bar “Crazy Louis”

Later that night.

Once Adonis opened the door to the piano bar “Crazy Louis,” he was greeted by the aroma of pale ale and the sound of lively jazz music.

All the tables were occupied.

After somehow managing to secure a seat at one of the stools by the end of the counter, he waved to greet the master, who was serving up four mugs of ale within. When the master returned the greeting with a light chin lift, he refocused his attention back to making the beer.

Abandoning the idea of ordering from the apparently hectic master, Adonis swiveled his stool to view the piano stage.

The steam-lit spotlight illuminated the girl’s glamorous transformation in all its glory. Her light-complexioned smile was mature, and her sleeveless, porcelain white shoulders were exquisitely enchanting. Her chest, which broadly thrust up through her black one-piece dress, would certainly entice any man’s attention. At her slender waist, a lovely sepia-colored ribbon cinched tightly in place. When complemented by her blonde hair and azure eyes, the piano stage radiated the effervescent beauty of Angela, who was only one step away from reaching the stage of adulthood.

Well, there was more to it than that.

For Adonis, the song that was being performed was the one that occupied his attention. If this familiar melody was accurate according to his recollection, it was originally a ballad song. Yet now, through the addition of Angela’s arrangement, it had transformed into an up-tempo jazz composition.

“Hey, Angela! Don’t play my ballad in a jazzy way!”

A well-built old man with a mug of ale in one hand was heckling to the piano stage. The audience around him erupted into laughter.

“I’m getting bored of the same requests all the time!”

“Play it seriously!”

After receiving a yell from her father, Angela gradually reverted to a slow ballad halfway through the piece. At that point, voices of discontent arose from all over the bar. Complaints ranged from “It’s too conventional～,” or “I want a groove～,” or “I’m about to fall asleep”. As if in response, the tempo of the song began to speed up. When the flamboyant arrangement, which was far from resembling a ballad, rang out, the crowd cheered vigorously, bringing the song back to a completely jazzy rhythm.

“What’s the big deal!!”

As the father shouted, the audience broke out in laughter. While watching the excitement gaining momentum on stage behind the counter bar, Adonis heard a thumping sound to his rear. Turning around, he found the master pouring whiskey into a rocks glass placed in front of him.

“The young girl’s in a groovy spirit today. It’s thanks to your tuning, isn’t it?”

“Thank you, but regardless of the quality of my tuning, I can’t hold a candle to the billboard girl.”

Sipping the wine in the glass, a gorgeous lusciousness pervaded the palate, accompanied by a smoky aroma. This was a fine Scotch whiskey.

“With such a delectable malt, no wonder here is thriving.”

“My drink is a bonus. Nowadays, the star of the Crazy Louis is Angela.”

The master’s narrowed eyes were fixed on the stage behind as if he were watching his grandchildren.

This time, a well-known piece that was familiar to all had just been requested.

In a light-hearted tone, Angela obliged and played her own arrangement, adding bold alterations from the beginning. While some of the audience was amazed and laughed, others were boasting about the difference.

By playing not only according to the score, but also in a jovial manner, conversations and jokes were exchanged, and the music contributed to the response. Both the audience and Angela herself enjoyed the sense of unity that was created in this way.

“She is skilled at this. Everything is improvised, isn’t it?”

Adonis addressed the master, who was seated at the counter, sipping a glass of wine.

“That’s because she has a solid foundation. Her ability is real. I believe she can win a top spot in the next competition.”

The master indicated a poster on the wall with his chin.

The 14th London Piano Competition.

This was the biggest piano competition in London, renowned as a gateway to success for pianists.

Many young pianists have been recognized for their abilities here and have subsequently achieved professional debuts or risen through the ranks of the upper class to eventually ascend to the ranks of the most prestigious pianists. Even the entry to the competition was subject to a stringent screening process and required a strong recommendation either from the winner of another competition or from the patron who backed this competition.

Furthermore, Mabel Faze, who won this competition at the age of 10, was scheduled to be a guest judge for this year’s London competition.

A mini-concert by her was set to be held after the jury, and her photo was prominently displayed on the poster.

Mabel, who has grown up to be a lovely blonde-haired and red-eyed, was now 17 years old, and the tickets for her concerts invariably sold out promptly. With Mabel’s mini-concerts, this year’s London competition will likely draw a record number of spectators.

“Wow… that means Angela is a winner of the other competitions?”

“No. The young lady is competing on the recommendation of a patron in her care–Ms. Jacqueline.”

“Heh, if Angela wins the London competition, I bet the customers here will be overjoyed.”

“That’s not so much the case…”

“Eh?”

The master chuckled bitterly as he downed the remaining whiskey in his glass in one gulp.

“I think it would be better for you to ask her directly why…The stage is drawing to a close.”

As Adonis glanced back at the piano stage, he met Angela’s eyes, who had turned at exactly the right moment in response to a customer’s heckling. With beads of sweat on her face, she looked at him proudly, as if to say, “How is it?”.

Then she immediately turned back to the piano keys, and with her fingers spinning at full speed, she livened up the audience. Adonis was struck again by a sense of déjà vu that he had experienced during the day as if he were daydreaming――by the sight of Angela’s back in front of him seemed to overlap with a scene from an old memory.

Swaying blonde hair, white shoulders, and a carefree smile…

“What’s wrong?”

When the master’s voice snapped him to his senses, Adonis turned to the counter bar and downed the rest of the whiskey in his throat.

“Nothing.”