强行进女小姪女小视频

"Please, sit down," Pierce said, gesturing at a pair of guest chairs.

When everybody sat down, he opened the resume of the second candidate. Several seconds of silent reading later, Pierce spoke, not lifting his eyes from the text.

"Mr. Valerian, what made you apply for the vacancy in this establishment?"

The young man sat straighter, like a teacher\'s pet answering a question in class.

"I hope this job will help me practice my piano skills and grow as a musician."

Tristan watched Pierce\'s reaction carefully, but his face told nothing about whether or not he liked the answer.

"I see. What about you, Mr. Gemello?"

"Hm… Well, I want to be honest with you, Mr. Pierce. I need the money, and this work has convenient hours."

Pierce was clearly a businessman, from what he said earlier—as if he cared about someone\'s music skills! At least, this was what Tristan thought.

"Very understandable. But your resume says that you have no prior musical education?"

"I am mostly self-taught."

Valerian raised his nose higher, and for a moment there was a victorious smile on his face.

Tristan sent him a dark side-eyed glance.

Pierce finished leafing through the resumes and closed them.

"Well, I can\'t check how good you are at music if you are self-taught, Mr. Gemello. I\'m forced to deny you this vacancy."

Now Valerian smiled openly, but Tristan wasn\'t about to give up yet.

"Mr. Pierce, please, wait. This job is about entertaining your bar patrons—let them decide which of us is more fit for it. In practice. It won\'t take much time for each of us to play a song."

"Hey! I mean… What\'s the point in testing? Formal education will win over self-teaching every day, this is simply obvious," Valerian said.

However, Pierce was nodding already.

"Yes, this is reasonable, Mr. Gemello. I should\'ve thought about this from the start. Follow me."

Now it was Tristan\'s turn to smile victoriously as Pierce led the pair back into the main hall of the bar.

"You don\'t stand a chance anyway, guitarhead," Valerian whispered on their way.

Tristan silently let the man delude himself with these words.

In the bar hall, Pierce gestured at the piano, which was standing there sadly with a closed lid. There were no note sheets, of course.

"It should be still set up since the last pianist quit. Mr. Valerian, play something for our audience."

And there was an audience. Around fifteen patrons were in the bar at the time, and the gathering of people near the piano made them curious.

Valerian sat on the stool and pressed several keys for a test. Pierce was right, and the piano was tuned correctly.

After this, Valerian flexed his fingers. He sat like the bar was his personal performance hall, with his back ramrod straight.

"Beethoven - Moonlight Sonata."

Valerian skillfully played this slow and sorrowful melody. It spread through the room, hushing the conversations and turning eyes to the pianist.

In this moment, Valerian was a picture of this powerful sorrow, each press of a piano key like a knife wound. His performance was as great as his school marks, and it showed the genius of the original composer as well as it deserved.

The entire Moonlight Sonata lasted fifteen minutes, but Valerian cut it short in the third minute, after one last set of tugs on people\'s heartstrings.

There was silence for a minute, then someone quietly applauded.

Several people began applauding too. A short round of claps followed. A short while after, conversations between patrons resumed.

Valerian stood up and bowed formally, looking proud of himself.

Pierce didn\'t show any reaction again, just gestured for Tristan to try.

Tristan exhaled and sat on the chair. His body found a comfortable position by instinct—slightly slouched, so he could easily reach every piano key.

He ran the songs he memorized in his head and stopped on one of the all-time hits. However, he didn\'t announce it aloud.

It was "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen—also a longer melody than fit the moment. It was also originally not for a piano alone—but when Tristan was preparing, he found plenty of piano covers for it to learn from.

Tristan cut straight to the middle of the song.

His fingers found the notes of a short entry part and he played it, soon reaching the part which had the most well-known piano part in the original song.

Tristan opened his mouth and began singing the sad, yet hopeful, beginning.

"Mama, just killed a man.

Put a gun against his head, pulled my trigger, now he\'s dead.

Mama, life had just begun,

But now I\'ve gone and thrown it all away.

Mama, ooh, didn\'t mean to make you cry.

If I\'m not back again this time tomorrow.

Carry on, carry on as if nothing really matters…"

With his back to the audience, Tristan couldn\'t see their reaction, and his entire focus was on playing this song, anyway.

He didn\'t see the recognition on the faces of patrons, or how other people nodded to the lyrics with way too much understanding.

Tristan simply poured his entire being into the song, like every time he played, letting his burning will to win and his love for music itself to carry it.

[Ding!]

He ignored the sound. The notifications could wait.

Couple minutes later Tristan played one last accord and fell silent together with the piano. However—

"Hey! Why did you stop? Play the rest of it!"

Tristan raised his eyebrow and turned toward the source of the voice. Next to the man who said this, several others nodded.

Tristan quickly turned around and, with a grin, continued playing the rest of the song, which became more and more upbeat, just like Tristan\'s mood.