Klavier’s first full-length album was released on a summer day soon after he turned eighteen: Fourteen rock songs aimed at teenagers like him, the kind of music people would be forced to listen to at the store. Meanwhile, his high school classmates were still taking their first steps at university, but he had finished it a long time ago.
How was that possible? Well, because he lived two incredible, agonizing years studying at the prestigious von Karma Institute . He had managed to get into the program for young lawyers imposed by Manfred decades ago by taking the exam online. When he was young, Kristoph had tried to do the same, but failed... So Kristoph should be proud Klavier could do it instead… right?
But when he broke the news, Kristoph looked at him as if he had been humiliated again. He would use that word a lot, he either said that or… Please don't shame me. Klavier could hear those words ringing on his head constantly.
Klavier’s friends, the people he met in school, usually dreamed about buying one of those shiny red cars and kissing someone pretty in the front seat, or saying something cool and listening to the crowd clapping, or becoming friends with an alien, or becoming the smarter person in earth (but without all the people smarter than them dying, that’d be cheating)... but Klavier only dreamed about Kristoph being proud of him.
So he always tried his best to avoid hurting his brother, to avoid shaming him. But sometimes it seemed like he felt ashamed of Klavier’s existence.
It was hard to tell whether his expression was one of discomfort or astonishment, when he told him he was going to study in Germany. Nice, he murmured. Klavier could count the words Kristoph said when he drove him to the airport when the semester started with one hand, because it was a single one. Goodbye.
Despite that, Klavier had convinced himself that, this time, things would be different. He spent an incredible, agonizing year writing and recording the songs for his album, surely… maybe… Kristoph would be proud and would actually talk to him. He didn’t win an award for nothing… right?
And so, early in the morning, Klavier stared at the chat with Kristoph on his phone. He always reread it, trying to find a mistake on the eternal test that was their sibling relationship. It was his business number... he didn’t even have his personal number anymore. Still, Klavier foolishly thought: he’s gonna message me any time now.
He even imagined the conversation many times in his head: You did great, Klavier. I missed you in those years when we didn't see each other. I’m sorry I never called, something came up. I’m sorry I only contacted you to discuss the Gramarye case and left again.
That was what the Kristoph from when they were young would say. Little did Klavier know, that brother didn’t exist anymore.
After getting ready for the day, Klavier moved from place to place, talked to people, signed autographs... and then he checked the messages on his phone again. No one he cared about.
As he let the anxiety building grow taller in his mind, with every room decorated with one sad memory, every floor describing one bad thought... he walked through the streets, with his black boots and sunglasses, while the camera flashes made his clothes shimmer.
He signed more autographs. He talked to more people. He thought he saw his brother in the crowd for a second. He did not see his brother. He was starving. He felt like he deserved that. He cared less and less about the faceless people who worshipped him, and cared more and more about how Kristoph wasn't there.
You did— Kristoph wouldn’t say that. Klavier didn’t do well enough. He failed. I missed you— Kristoph was happier than ever. Klavier knew that. I’m sorry I never called— Kristoph didn’t care enough to remember to call. I’m sorry— Kristoph shouldn’t be the one saying that, it should be Klavier… right?
But why?
So he imagined the conversation differently: Do you hate me, Kristoph? Why do you make me feel sorry for things I don't understand?
And he ran out of ideas.