The Solo Recital

Ronan and Iris have played violin duets together since they were nine years old. For the school's spring recital, they always perform side by side.

Ronan dan Iris sudah memainkan duet biola bersama sejak mereka berusia sembilan tahun. Untuk resital musim semi sekolah, mereka selalu tampil berdampingan.

Two weeks before this year's recital, Iris's family tells her they're moving out of state. She has to leave before the performance even happens. Ronan finds out from a group message, sent in the middle of math class. He has to read it three times before it actually makes sense.

Dua minggu sebelum resital tahun ini, keluarga Iris memberi tahu bahwa mereka akan pindah ke negara bagian lain. Ia harus pergi bahkan sebelum pertunjukan berlangsung. Ronan mengetahuinya dari pesan grup yang dikirim di tengah pelajaran matematika. Ia harus membacanya tiga kali sebelum benar-benar mengerti.

"You'll still play your part," their music teacher tells him gently. "You could perform it as a solo instead."

"Kamu tetap akan memainkan bagianmu," kata guru musik mereka dengan lembut. "Kamu bisa memainkannya sebagai solo."

Ronan has never played anything alone in front of an audience before. Every recital, every competition, Iris has been standing right next to him. Somehow that always made the shaking in his hands feel less important.

Ronan belum pernah memainkan apa pun sendirian di depan penonton. Di setiap resital, setiap lomba, Iris selalu berdiri tepat di sampingnya. Entah bagaimana, itu selalu membuat tangannya yang gemetar terasa kurang penting.

"I don't think I can do the whole piece by myself," he tells his teacher honestly.

"Saya rasa saya tidak bisa memainkan seluruh lagunya sendirian," katanya jujur kepada gurunya.

"You've been playing this piece for eight weeks," she reminds him. "The notes are already in your hands. What you're really nervous about isn't the music."

"Kamu sudah memainkan lagu ini selama delapan minggu," ia mengingatkan. "Nada-nadanya sudah ada di tanganmu. Yang membuatmu gugup sebenarnya bukan musiknya."

She's right, and Ronan knows it. It isn't the notes that scare him. It's standing on that stage without anyone else up there to lean on if something goes wrong.

Gurunya benar, dan Ronan tahu itu. Bukan nada-nadanya yang membuatnya takut. Yang menakutkan adalah berdiri di panggung itu tanpa siapa pun di sampingnya untuk bersandar kalau ada yang salah.

He practices harder than he ever has before. He runs through the piece every night after dinner, sometimes twice. His hands still shake in rehearsal, even when nobody else is watching. If he can't get through it alone in an empty room, he isn't sure about the auditorium.

Ia berlatih lebih keras daripada sebelumnya. Ia memainkan lagu itu setiap malam setelah makan malam, kadang dua kali. Tangannya masih gemetar saat latihan, bahkan ketika tidak ada orang lain yang menonton. Kalau ia tidak sanggup memainkannya sendirian di ruangan kosong, ia tidak yakin bagaimana di auditorium.

On the night of the recital, Ronan stands backstage. He listens to the murmur of the crowd settling into their seats. He almost asks the teacher if someone else could take his spot instead. Then he thinks about Iris, probably unpacking boxes in some new city right now. He imagines her telling him to just walk out there already.

Pada malam resital, Ronan berdiri di balik panggung. Ia mendengarkan gumam penonton yang sedang duduk di kursi mereka. Ia nyaris bertanya kepada gurunya apakah orang lain bisa menggantikan tempatnya. Lalu ia teringat Iris, yang mungkin sedang membongkar kardus di kota baru entah di mana. Ia membayangkan Iris menyuruhnya untuk segera melangkah ke sana.

He walks onto the stage alone and sets his violin under his chin. Then he waits for the shaking in his hands to pass. It doesn't disappear completely, but it doesn't stop him either.

Ia berjalan sendirian ke atas panggung dan menempatkan biolanya di bawah dagunya. Lalu ia menunggu gemetar di tangannya mereda. Gemetar itu tidak hilang sepenuhnya, tetapi juga tidak menghentikannya.

He plays the whole piece from memory. He misses one small note near the end, one that only he probably notices. When he finishes, the applause feels different than anything he's heard before. It sounds louder somehow, because for the first time, it belongs entirely to him.

Ia memainkan seluruh lagu dari ingatan. Ia melewatkan satu nada kecil menjelang akhir, nada yang mungkin hanya ia sendiri yang menyadarinya. Ketika selesai, tepuk tangan itu terasa berbeda dari apa pun yang pernah ia dengar. Suaranya terdengar lebih keras, entah mengapa, karena untuk pertama kalinya tepuk tangan itu sepenuhnya miliknya.