Re: capullo de rosa; dietre & hugh
Dietre was not one to presume he understood the minds of the great composers, so he did not quite know how to answer Hugh’s question. His brow furrowed and he canted his head in thought, drinking his wine. “Hm… I don’t think anyone knows for certain. I’ve read a theory that he felt it was too similar to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Others say that he considered it shallow compared to his other work. But he was only twenty-four when he wrote it, so I think that is a bit too harsh.”
He never felt that he needed an audience, but Dietre did enjoy playing for a friend. Performances for an audience of one were a form of intimacy he otherwise lacked in his life. Music was the only way he could be properly understood, and he made it a point to play for every person he had felt any kind of closeness to. Some understood more than others, but sadly a gulf always seemed to remain between him and them either way. Still, he’d play for any friend who’d listen.
Hugh’s joke left Dietre flustered even though he knew he wasn’t really going to call for the check so soon. He blushed, his expression part frown, part pout. “Hugh...” Dietre’s tone was disapproving yet also pleading. “The food is important too.” It wasn’t. Not really. Being together was what was important.
“Besides, Mr. Andrews will be offended if we walk out before being served.” And Dietre was not about to look bad to his boss who was probably somewhere by the bar. He smiled a little as he echoed what Caspar had told him the day he was hired. “He sees this place as an experience. We’re here to make a memory.”
And here was that dry humor again. “I’m supposed to be the flourish with my playing, but you’ll have to do without.” At least until later. Dietre would make up for it with as much music as Hugh desired.