Grand Piano Page #3

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You think you can bargain with me?

You're not in control, Tom.

The audience is in control.

And right now, I'm your audience.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

I know that it's not customary

to speak between movements,

but please understand

that, as a conductor,

I sometimes just need to hear

the sound of my own voice.

Tonight we're offering you one of

Patrick Godureaux's favorite pieces:

Stephan Yeranosian's

Piano Concerto No. 4,

which is the perfect vehicle

for reuniting all of us

with one of the world's

greatest living pianists...

Wake up, Tom.

...whose genius wowed

Godureaux himself.

The one and only Tom Selznick.

I almost forgot! I'm sorry, Tom,

I'll get back to you in a second.

As if this venue

weren't unique enough,

let me tell you something about

the piano that Tom is playing.

This customized

Imperial Boesenndorfer

with eight full octaves

belonged to Patrick himself.

This is the first time this piano

has been on a stage anywhere.

Sadly, we don't get to keep it.

Tonight when we're finished, this piano

is on an 11 PM plane to Switzerland,

which is probably not what the

board of directors thought I meant

when I assured them that tonight they

would see this instrument take flight.

Patrick's passing this last

year was a blow to all of us.

I would therefore like to dedicate this

evening's performance to his memory.

I would also like to thank

the lovely Emma Selznick...

for helping bring

everything together.

I'm sure they could have

had room for us up there.

And to really showcase what

this instrument can do,

tonight Tom will be finishing the

evening, sans orchestra, with...

No, not that infamous piece. I think

we've all heard enough about that.

With Beethoven's "Tempest" Sonata.

One of Patrick's favorites

But first things first.

Ladies and gentleman, the second movement

of Yeranosian's Piano Concerto No. 4.

What are you waiting for?

Are you there? I want to talk.

I'd rather you play than talk, Tom.

Are you freaking kidding me?

I'm looking for it, Ash...

Everyone is looking at us.

Turn it off.

Hurry up.

Hello?

What?

Wayne, I swear to God...

Tom?

Turn the damn thing off!

Tom?

Can you hear me, Tom?

I wanna know why you've got

a gun pointed at Emma.

Let me see who called.

I apologize. I know you'd rather

have everything only pointed at you.

You're doing an excellent job.

Soon you'll be ready for what's next.

- What? What's next?

- You'll find out. Be patient.

It's obviously Emma.

Probably by mistake.

No, it was a man's voice.

Tom is on the stage playing the piano.

There is no way he called you.

He's saying something.

He's talking.

He is not talking, he's counting.

It's what musicians do.

Shush! I'm trying

to listen to the music.

Excuse me!

You do not shush me.

- I've got to go to the bathroom.

- Wayne!

What was that, Tom?

- What the hell was that?

- My watch.

Your watch? What about it?

An alarm.

An alarm? You expect me to believe you'd

let your alarm go off during a show?

- It was a mistake.

- A mistake?

It's been 5 years.

I forgot to turn it off.

I hope you're telling the truth.

Tom? Hello?

Don't open your mouth

again unless it's to count.

Hi, Tom.

I just got a call from

you and... I mean...

Aren't you on stage right now?

Stop fidgeting, Tom.

Anyway, I heard something

kind of odd and I...

I'm going to try you again.

What are you doing?

Stop playing with your music.

Wayne!

Come back here!

Wayne!

Oh, my God.

Excuse me!

May I help you?

- Do you work here?

- Yeah.

- There's a situation.

- A situation?

I got this from the man on stage.

- If this is a joke, it's not funny.

- I swear it's not. Not from me.

Come with me now.

We'll talk to security.

It's probably a prank.

But you never know.

Tom, I have a surprise for you.

Look above your head.

Watch carefully.

I want you to see this.

No!

Keep it together.

Keep playing, Tom.

If you don't pull it together

in one second, you'll be shot.

Keep your fingers on the piano

and your mind on the music.

This will teach you

how to focus. Steady!

Good.

Now make your conductor think

everything's okay or he'll be next.

Tom? Feeling better?

Why? Why did you kill him?

You've never seen a dead

body before, have you?

How did you think you could be a great

artist with so little life experience?

I've taught you in a way Patrick never

could, which means you're ready.

What?

"La Cinquette".

Remember it?

What about it?

"The Unplayable Piece". Except there's a

few people who can play it. Am I right?

Who can move their fingers that

fast and spread them that wide.

One of them died last summer.

The other is you.

No. I can't play it.

It's been five years.

Well, here's your chance to

put the meltdown behind you.

Here's your chance to show all of those

who laughed at you, who pitied you,

what you're really capable of.

Listen to me. You don't understand.

I can't play it.

Why? Because you froze?

Because you've never been as terrified

as you were that night on stage?

Because those last four bars have haunted

you every day of your life since?

I don't know it by heart.

Which is why I had my assistant

put it in your folder.

I've planned this well, Tom.

I have faith in you.

More than it seems Emma ever did.

Holding your hand, orchestrating

your return to the stage

just so she doesn't feel so bad about

hogging the spotlight from you.

Admit it. You're bitter

she's become a success.

And all I'm doing is offering you a

chance to become your own man again.

In time, you'll learn to be grateful.

But for now, focus on this.

The final four bars

of "La Cinquette".

Play them to perfection for

the first time in your life

and you walk out of here alive.

"La Cinquette".

- I threw it out before the show.

- That was a stupid thing to do.

- Play it by memory then.

- You know I can't.

That's why you stuck it in there. That's

why you needed me to have sheet music.

Too bad for Emma. You'll be

better off without her anyway.

No! You don't have another copy?

Why should I?

That's why I've got you.

Wait! I remember, the janitor...

He saw me throw it to

the ground. He must have it.

In that case, he's about to throw

"La Cinquette" into the trash.

- Can't you pick it up?

- Trust me, you want me up here.

What about someone else?

Maybe your assistant?

I believe he's busy.

When it's intermission, get the score.

And try not to get any more people killed.

Wayne?

Wayne?

Oh, my God!

I'm sorry.

It's okay. I get confused

all the time around here.

- I'll get it.

- Don't worry.

What are you waiting for?

- Where am I going?

- The stairs.

Turn left at the bottom.

Tom, the stairs.

Three doors down.

What? Where?

Left and left.

Excuse me! Sir! Wait!

Wait! No, don't! No! No! No!

Hey, what is wrong?

What is wrong?

- He threw the score out.

- That's a shame.

Wait! I have a copy at home.

I could get someone to go get it.

- I think you know what this means.

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