Angela had arranged for a car to pick her up at 4:00. The performance wasn't until 7:30, but there were preparations, sound checks, a brief meet-and-greet with donors. Maya watched the city pass by through tinted windows, feeling disconnected from everything, like she was watching her own life from outside her body.
The Riverside Symphony Hall was beautiful. Maya had been there once before as a student, sitting in the cheap seats to watch a visiting pianist. She'd never imagined she'd be the one on stage. The building was all soaring ceilings and rich wood and perfect acoustics, designed to make music sound the way it was meant to sound.
James Woo met her at the stage entrance, his energy dialed up even higher than usual. "Maya, perfect timing. The hall is 97% sold out. We've got local press here, some national outlets, and the performance is being livestreamed. This is huge."
"That's not helping my nerves, James."
He had the grace to look sheepish. "Sorry. But seriously, you're going to be amazing. I've heard you practice. You're more than ready."
The sound check was strange. The empty hall echoed differently than it would when filled with people. Maya ran through portions of each piece she'd be performing, adjusting to the piano, to the acoustics, to the feel of the space. The Steinway Concert Grand was magnificent—responsive to the lightest touch, rich and full in tone. Playing it was like driving a luxury car after years in a beaten-up sedan.