The charity gala was winding down. Boring speeches, overpriced wine, the usual.
Then Randall Voss – yes, THE Randall Voss, the guy who sold out Carnegie Hall three times – sat down at the grand piano for his closing set.
Halfway through Chopin’s Ballade No. 1, he stopped. Just stopped. The audience shifted in their seats.

He pointed to the front row. “You. The kid who’s been tapping every note on his knee since I started.”
Everyone turned. A boy, maybe 11 or 12, sat next to a woman gripping his arm. His eyes were milky white. A thin cane leaned against his chair.

His name was Terrence.
“Come up here,” Randall said into the mic, grinning. “Play something for us. Just for fun.”
The mom shook her head. Terrence was already standing.
The crowd gave a polite, pitying applause. You know the kind. The “oh, how sweet” kind.
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