The Pianist

The Pianist

A Story by Treo LeGigeo

A nightclub, a song, a memory...

Previous Version
This is a previous version of The Pianist.

A warm, lilting melody wafted through the nightclub, nimble fingers dancing over crisp black and white keys as the song of the grand piano drifted down from the stage, filtering between the irregularly spaced tables to fill every niche, every recess of the dimly lit room. The lone figure in the spotlight moved gently with the music, her long chestnut hair billowing down her back in loose waves and her wine red dress fanning out around her knees as she sat on the worn leather stool. It was not a complex song she played, with no difficult notes or intricate rhythms, but there was something about it that was so enchanting, so entrancing, as if each sound touched you, clung to you, whispered to you.


As the tune swelled, as the notes danced, and as music came alive beneath her fingers, the pianist began to remember.




She met him at a cheap, backwater club on a cool autumn evening while playing yet another of those low paid unambitious jobs that she hated but needed to make ends meet. He was a cello player, so he told her while they waited before their performances, and he hated playing this as much as she did. Before they knew it a little small talk had turned into a riveting conversation, which turned into an invitation to dinner.


The courting that had begun awkwardly in that dark corridor of the small backstage area continued. At first it was slow and sporadic, stuttered by difficulties of work and money, but despite the troubles it bloomed. From a strong passion their connection formed, their relationship transcending the coldness of a small yet barely afforded apartment and the bleakness of a forever broke life.


Then the idea of a duet was pitched, and suddenly they were no longer were they two starving musicians each struggling to make a living for themselves. Now, they did it together. A double act, a two part performance, working together, coping together, surviving together. For the first time in her life she was no longer a lone child from a broken family trying to make something of herself in a desperate attempt to leave behind her stagnant origins, now she had someone there for her, someone to care for her, and someone to love her.


When he came to her with the song she was surprised to say the least, he’d never composed before or told her that he had an interest in composing. But as she took up the manuscript, as her hands danced over the keys in time with the rich melody of his cello, as the song was heard for the first time, she was amazed. And by the time the majestic tune faded and the song came to an end, she was close to tears.


“It’s so beautiful.”


“I wrote it for you.”


“But why is it so sad?”


A pause, then, “There’s something I have to tell you.”


The next months were an agonising blur of waiting rooms, doctor’s offices, and hospital beds. Leukaemia, they were told, and less than a year to live. But it couldn’t be true, it wasn’t fair, not when she had finally found someone to share her life. He tried to resist, to fight, but the cancer won in the end. She will never forget the smell of the bleak white ward, the dull beep of the monitor, the last look he gave her before he slipped away into a coma from which he would never wake.


She was there three days later, lying beside him, her head resting on his chest, when she heard his breath stutter and his heart falter. She was there, listening, as his lungs gave one last heave before finally falling still.


Once again, she was alone.




The final notes of the song died away to be met with silence. The audience sat wordless, unmoving, captivated by the spell of the music. But then one clapped, another joined, and it was broken. Applause rang out from the club as the pianist stood and gave her bow.


“Thank you very much, that was the lovely Si Waters on the piano,” the emcee said with a grin when the noise had died down. “Now Miss Waters, that was quite a change from your usual repertoire, is it your own composition?”


She shook her head. “No, I only arranged it. It was originally a duet.”


“And you stated at the beginning that it was your first time performing it, yet you also told us it was an old song. Is there a story there?”


Si hesitated. For so long the grief had consumed her, for so long she had been unable to play that song, incapable of talking about what she had lost.


“Promise me something.”




“Don’t let this break you, otherwise the cancer will have clamed two victims. Move on, Si. I’ll be your past, promise me you’ll move on with your life, promise me you’ll let it go.”


There was a long silence, then, “He played the cello...”

© 2011 Treo LeGigeo

Author's Note

Treo LeGigeo
Inspired by Song for Sienna by Brian Crain, a piano and cello duet:

I'm still working on it, any suggestions for improvement are greatly appreciated.


it's beautiful :). all the way through. and it fits brilliantly the song.

Posted 10 Years Ago

It's so saaaaaaaaaaaaaaad
x.x I hope they find a cure for that disease
Great work!

Posted 10 Years Ago

i loved it. so sad, and beautiful. wonderful job

Posted 10 Years Ago

Poignant and sad, as AmaNi said, heartbreaking in a way. Simply Beautiful, great work, no, Excellent work ^^

Posted 10 Years Ago

What a beautifully written story really captivates my heart I really enjoyed reading this please keep them coming

Posted 10 Years Ago

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That was really so sweet and heartbreaking in a way, it's an excellent story, amazing job!

Posted 10 Years Ago

simply beautiful

Posted 10 Years Ago

goood stuff.

Posted 10 Years Ago

So sad :( but i loved it.

Posted 10 Years Ago

oh thats just amazing, but sad, how heart breaking is their conversation! Also, thats so sweet, especially what the girl say, its a truth, if you love someone, then you need to go away and move on our life, thats a great short story!

Posted 10 Years Ago

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5 Reviews
Shelved in 10 Libraries
Added on January 13, 2011
Last Updated on January 13, 2011
Tags: Love, Loss, Cancer, Leukaemia, Death Sad, Tragedy, Music, Piano


Treo LeGigeo
Treo LeGigeo

Sydney, NSW, Australia

I'm from Australia, so some people may find that I spell things differently. I love writing and have had a couple of publications of short stories and novellas under a pseudonym. I started .. more..


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