Maya felt like she couldn't breathe. 2.3 million people. 2.3 million strangers had watched her most vulnerable moment, had watched her humiliation and her triumph, had seen her crying at a piano in her work uniform.
The comment section was overwhelming. Thousands and thousands of comments, more appearing even as she watched:
- "This made me cry. Pure talent can't be hidden."
- "The fact that they made her play as a joke and she shut them up so completely is the best thing I've seen all year."
- "Classical musicians work their whole lives for this level of skill. She's incredible."
- "Anyone know her name? Someone needs to get her a record deal immediately."
- "The way the room went completely silent. You can hear the exact moment they realized they messed up."
- "I'm a professional pianist and this performance is legitimately world-class. How is she working as a waitress?"
There were negative comments too, of courseβpeople questioning whether the video was staged, whether she was really a waitress or an actress, people criticizing the guests for their initial behavior, people criticizing Maya for crying. The internet was the internet, after all. But the overwhelming majority of comments were supportive, amazed, moved by what they'd seen.
Maya scrolled through her text messages, trying to process them all: friends from high school she hadn't heard from in years, her old piano teacher Mrs. Rodriguez who'd retired and moved to Arizona, classmates from the conservatory. Even her landlord had texted to ask if that was really her in the video.
Her phone rang in her hand, making her jump. It was her mother. Maya answered with a shaky, "Mom?"
"Maya, baby, what's going on? Your aunt sent me a video and I've been trying to call you for an hour. Is that really you playing at some fancy party?"
"It's a long story, Mom. Iβ"
"It's beautiful, honey. I'm crying just watching it. I had no idea you were still that good. You said you didn't play anymore."
"I don't. I mean, I didn't. It was just one time. They needed someone, and..." Maya's voice cracked. "Mom, everyone's seeing it. Millions of people."
"I know, baby. I know. But maybe that's a good thing. Maybe this is what was supposed to happen."
Before Maya could respond, another call came through. Then another. Her phone was ringing almost constantly now. She saw numbers she didn't recognize, local numbers and out-of-state numbers. She let them all go to voicemail, feeling overwhelmed.