Perfect Harmony

The man in the melancholically black tuxedo stood shaking, looking at himself in the mirror. Black hair covered his right eye, and he was certain he would slip up the performance. His name was Ed Paris, and he wore a ghastly look. The woman in stark white was Phoe, very charming and quite the beauty. She wore the most gorgeous white dress that made her appearance, goddess-like. At such a prestigious event, the two standing together facing the mirror looked like they're polar opposites. The woman turned to face her partner; she knew he was thinking about something.

"You alright?" she asked.
"I'm nervous. I know I'm going to mess up."
"There you go again. I told you, everything's going to be perfect."
"I highly doubt that. I don't want us to be humiliated."
"We will be if you keep thinking like that. Now chin up, I'm definitely sure it'll turn out great."
"I'm definitely sure it won't."
"Bah. No time to argue."

There were a lot of people tonight, and Ed Paris was very nervous. He felt like he needed to practice, but the show would start in five minutes. He was dreadfully nervous as he imagined the large wave of people out there, booing him, throwing their wine and grissini. He paced quickly in back stage, with a nimbus cloud over his head. He hovered his hands in the air, dancing his fingers to a waltz remembering his act. After a few good deep breaths, he glanced beyond the red drapes and saw the massive hall housing almost a thousand people. His face grew into an even deader look, as if it was possible.

"Hey, let's do our best." his optimistic partner exclaimed.
"That is very much impossible."
"Well, I know you even more than you know yourself." She admitted. "You're at your best when you feel like you're at your worst."
He chuckled. "You make no sense, Phoe."
"Ha! I cheered you up a little."
"Hmph. Won't that mean I'm not at my best then?"
"Oh--right. Stop being cheerful then."

The show was about to start. The two both took deep breaths and marched.

The stage had two sides. On the left, the area was angelic--with a beautiful white grand piano below a chandelier that brightly illuminated the surroundings. On the right was a dark area, with a grand piano, black as night, sprawled at its very core. Beyond the crimson curtains emerged two figures. The crowd hushed to a dead silence.

The one in white took her seat in the left side of the stage, the one in black on the right. And the light that illuminated the left side dimmed, and dimmed--until the whole hall was pitch black. Then a faint light grew upon the right side-- bringing about a shadow, melancholy and haunting, sitting on the chair, and playing the instrument.

O god, the music was thrilling. The pacing was fast. The keys were sharp and loud. The shadow's fingers that pressed deep into the piano were like knives inserted into flesh, playing a melody of sorrow--No, a melody of despair. His fingers danced in fear--but the sound it produced enchanted the whole room, and the audience's ears could not be deafened. The first part was done, and he was relieved. The spotlight dimmed and faded, and the chandelier lit up. It was the woman in white's turn. And this one was completely different. It was light-hearted, soft, slow, and completely mesmerizing. Her fingers waltzed like silk, and her smile charmed even the gods of music that listened to the piano's song. Hers was a song of hope.

Then suddenly, the spotlight had lit back up and amid the soft whispering melody did strike a furious accompaniment. The shadow's black piano roared back with it's melody of despair. The white piano's song became louder and completely enveloped the other in perfect harmony. With her fingers like silk and his fingers like knives, the room was filled with music so maddening yet beautiful, like a confused fizgig. It was so ethereal, so otherworldly, that even the gods of music would stop everything that they were doing to listen--to listen! She smiled and looked at him. He did the same. The finale was so beautiful, it was beyond comprehension. Then in a flash, they finished. And the room was pitch black. The audience was deep in silence. Then in a few seconds, they stood up and applauded.

The room lit up, and the two figures were standing side to side, and bowed. Ed Paris was smiling, and glanced at Phoe. She glanced back and they smiled.

They went behind the curtains, and they both sighed a breath of relief.

"Okay, save the philippics for later. I guess-- everything was perfect." Ed Paris admitted, smiling.
"Oh, screw you. You had me worried there that we'd slip up."
"You worried? Phoe, is that you?" he joked.
"Ha--Ha. How about you? What happened to the Ed Paris that was sure everything would fall apart?"
"Hey, you told me I was at my best when I was at my worst."
"Well, that's true. But seriously! The crowd loved us!" she shouted in joy as she jumped.
"Who would've thought it. I thought someone would actually throw me their grissini."
"Seriously? And speaking of grissini, I'm hungry, let's have dinner!"
"D-dinner, the two of us?"
"Yeah, I mean, this is our first big success. We should celebrate."
"Hmm--I guess. Sure, let's eat."
"Cool. Oh, since you worried me there a while ago, you pay."
"What?"

They both laughed simultaneously.

Phoe and Ed Paris ate together in an Italian bistro nearby. And Ed did pay for everything. Both were very talented pianists indeed. But together, their music was divine. Making it big was going to be hard, especially since Hope had Despair for a partner. But that's what makes their art so incredible.


The greatest art is when two opposites are in perfect harmony.