Adagio

Agatha Castillo starts to play a part of Mozart's Violin Concerto No. 3 in G Major in an empty classroom. She plays it passionately as the clock ticks a few minutes away from her class with children aged 7 years old and above. It is her first time to dedicate a few hours of her weekends for kids at a non-governmental organization for children living in poverty. She believes that kids are harmless and more receptive to criticism unlike adults who just whine and rant the moment they play their notes wrong. In a way, she sees this as her service to the youth who are ripe and full of hope.

Music is Agatha's best friend. She trusts in music more than anything else in this world. She grew up as a gifted, musically-inclined child. Her first instrument was the piano at the age of eight, followed by the violin when she turned ten, then the cello when she turned fourteen, strummed the guitar for the first time when she was sixteen, and eventually laid her hands on a saxophone when she was eighteen. But her primary instrument is the violin. She believes she is more comfortable with the delicateness of the violin. The violin was just like her - complicated, mysterious, but filled with so much emotion.

She graduated college from the University of the Philippines with a degree in Music. And now she is occupied in teaching kids and adults from all walks of life to appreciate and to create music. Other times, she is occupied in playing with an orchestra or as a solo musician whenever invited to some concerts or musical events. She also scores and composes music for various films and television series. She dreams of heading a musical play one day. True enough, the profession doesn't allow her to earn much. But because of the help of her mentors and her own perseverance, her name is now a familiar sound to people in the music industry.

It is through performing music that she forgets her worries in life. It is through music that she thrives despite her everyday struggle of suppressing her negative emotions. It is through music that she feels powerful with every strum, pluck, bow, and blow.

Agatha stops playing and puts her violin and bow down. The kids by the door clap their hands in awe. The NGO personnel standing behind the kids also give her a round of applause. She smiles, tuck her short hair behind her ears and says, "Thank you, everyone! Now, who's ready to learn some music?"

---

She returns to her home - a small apartment which she moved into last year, shortly after graduating college. She places her violin case inside the room she converted into a music room, where all her prized instruments and music sheets reside. Pictures of her favorite music icons from different genres are all over the walls. A shelf filled with albums and music books stands near the recording equipment she set up. Some of these things were fruits of her hard work, while some were gifts from her mentors and fellow musicians.

She sits on a wooden stool for a while, taking a deep breath. It's another Saturday of being alone. But it's nothing new to her. Sometimes, she wishes something extraordinary will happen to her.

She misses her hometown where her family resides in a two-story structure in the heart of downtown Cebu. The ground floor of the structure is her father's family business - a convenience store which sold items found in 7-Eleven or Ministop, but at much cheaper rates. One can think of it as a bigger version of a sari-sari store. Her father, Arturo Tan Castillo, was of Filipino-Chinese descent. He was a soft spoken, business-minded man who supported her music. Among her family members, Agatha loved her father the most. But her father smoked his way to death while manning the convenience store and died a few months before Agatha graduated college.

It was her father's death that damaged her badly. She didn't have enough time to grieve as career opportunities kept coming through her way as she graduated college. Since then, she took an oath to herself to never display her intense emotions to anyone. There was no use in crying, screaming, or laughing anymore. All she wanted was to live life in black and white.

Agatha's phone rings in the middle of her rumination. She sees that it's her older sister, Adela, calling her. She heaves a sigh and swipes the phone with her thumb to answer the call.

"Hey! How are you?" Adela asks her. Agatha then thought to herself: As expected. She's smiling from ear to ear again.

"I'm fine. Same old, same old," Agatha answers.

"You're not going home soon? It's almost Papa's death anniversary," Adela reminds her.

Agatha slowly slaps her forehead with her free hand, "I need to book a flight first."

"Please inform me what plane you will be taking. I haven't booked my flight yet, too. So maybe we can go together or wait for each other when we arrive at the airport so that Mama can fetch the two of us. Mama said you are not responding to her calls. Is there anything wrong?"

"Nothing. I'll just tell you the details once I get my flight booked. I gotta go, I'm busy."

"Okay. See you soon. Bye."

Agatha never forgets her father's death anniversary. She knows the date and time of her father's death like it was a basic fact. But what she doesn't really like was coming home and opening all of her wounds again.