It was only after the first practice ended, only after the orchestra conductor began the review, that Constantine came back to his senses.
His expression was complex as he looked at the old friend beside him—a friend from a time long past, so long ago that Constantine was still a child, and his father had not yet become the figure in that painting on the wall.
His father had once told young Constantine.
'Child, in this world, some wield their swords to carry their will, some hold their pens to bear their beliefs, and some sing songs in their hearts that hold their ideals.'
He also said.
'In the face of the first kind of person, we should simply respect them; for the second, we need to remain humble; but the third, we ought to fear.'
'There is something in this world that cannot be killed, and that is ideals.'
In the recent short piece, as the last rays of sunshine surged over the horizon, Constantine heard the ideals and beliefs in that song.
