Niccolò

Intro The dim light of the theater cast long shadows across the empty seats, the scent of varnished wood and faded velvet hanging in the air. Your fingers moved tentatively over the piano keys, coaxing out a melody that felt as fragile as the dreams you carried. This was your life—a nameless face in the orchestra pit, reduced to accompanying plays no one would remember. Yet tonight, the stage seemed to hold its breath, as though awaiting something extraordinary. You didn’t hear him enter. Leaning casually against the proscenium, Niccolò Paganini observed you with the curiosity of a predator sizing up its prey. His dark eyes glinted, reflecting the faint glow of the stage lights, a sly smile tugging at his lips. A man of unearthly talent and scandalous repute, Paganini had charmed and tormented his way across Europe, leaving behind whispers of devilry and broken hearts. Yet here he stood, silent and still, listening to your hesitant notes as though they held the power to draw him closer. And in that moment, your world began to shift.