With claws tapping the piano and purrs filling the room, the concert hall overflowed with music-hungry ailurophiles, eager to feed their minds. All of this had started five years earlier, with nothing but a simple challenge.

Theodor was, by all accounts, a spoiled brat-cat. Born into wealth and attention, his name was on every furry lip in town. But the town had no elite schools or distinguished teachers, so his parents reluctantly enrolled him in what they called “a cheap, crappy, and downright disgusting public school.” They had no other choice, and neither did he.

The first day was a catastrophe: name-calling, scuffles, and endless humiliation. Theodor’s snobby mannerisms didn’t fly with the local kittens. Not even the teachers had sympathy for him.

The next thirty days offered more of the same. But one kitten stood out: James. He didn’t just tease Theo, he spoke truth. “You’ve got nothing of your own. You think you're better than us just because you were born into luxury.” Then James offered a challenge: “Achieve something yourself, and you'll earn my respect.” Theodor accepted immediately, thinking it would be easy. But easy, it was not.

The only part that came easy was buying the fanciest piano he could find, the legendary Purrano. For a week, he simply mashed the keys with his tiny paws. But then something changed. One day, Theo “cleaned his ears,” sat down, and began listening, truly listening, to the greats: Meowzart, Purrthoven, and Bill Kittens. He listened day and night. And eventually, he tried again.

This time, his music didn’t hurt ears. It brought joy. Wonder. It was the first time Theodor felt true accomplishment, something earned, not inherited.

As his passion grew, Theo decided to try the school piano. It was old, dusty, out of tune, and filled with cat hair from a dozen breeds. But when he played, something happened. The notes sounded raw, aged, but full of depth, like the piano was playing his very thoughts. When he asked the music teacher about it, the reply was dismissive: “That piece of junk’s been here forever.”

“Mom, it’s the most beautiful instrument I’ve ever played!” he said excitedly.

But she didn’t care. He already had the best piano money could buy. When he asked if he could have the school’s piano, the teacher simply said, “A piano like that must be earned, not bought.”

“What must I do to earn it?” Theo asked.

The teacher gave him three conditions: Master the piano. Find your own voice through it. And finally, become your own. Theo barely understood half of it, but he grasped the heart of the message. He had to become his own cat.

To truly prove himself, he needed independence. At just two cat-years old, that was no easy task. So, he made a bold decision: he would move in with his mysterious uncle, Pawthur, a scarred tomcat with half a tail who had long ago cut ties with Theo’s father.

His parents, unsurprisingly, were furious. “In no world are you living with Uncle Pawthur,” his father growled. Thinking fast, Theo mentioned a prestigious private school near Pawthur’s home. He used every elegant word he knew: “elite,” “prestigious,” “exceptional.” His father, lured by the idea of status, finally agreed. His mother, as always, followed suit.

So, with a small bag of essentials, Theo set off, seven hours by train ahead of him.

“Where are you headed, little one?” asked a huge forest cat.

Theo hesitated. His mother had warned him about such cats: “Crazy old war felines. Should’ve stayed on the battlefield.” But the cat was kind and pointed him to the right train.

Not quite the “low-life scum” Mom warned me about, Theo thought.

Later, as the train rolled on, Theo drifted into a strange, vivid dream.

“A thousand beds of thirsty children, a million doors of empty hearts, a billion gratitudes filled with hate…”

He was nowhere, and everywhere. He felt more than he saw or heard. A scrawny kitten appeared beside him.

“Water, please?”

“I... I don’t have any,” Theo whispered, guilt rising in his chest.

“Water! Water!” More voices cried out. “Tickets, sir?”

Theo jolted awake. A small old conductor-cat stood before him.

“May I see your ticket?” Theo handed it over.

“Oh, from up north, are you?” the cat said cheerfully. “All good. Safe travels, buddy.”

As Theo tried to rest again, a scruffy fellow entered the compartment.

“Mind if I join ya?”

“Of course not, sir.”

The stranger quickly made himself at home.

“So, where ya from?” he asked with a thick accent and a lazy smile.

“A small town up north,” Theo answered politely.

“Where ya headed?”

“To live with my uncle.”

“Your uncle, huh? Got a story for you about mine. Wanna hear it?”

Theo nodded, unsure what to expect.

The stranger leaned in. “Well, my mom was thirteen when her parents decided to have another kitten. They wanted a boy. Not that they didn’t love her, but y’know, ‘a girl can’t play sports,’ they said.”

He told Theo a long, winding tale: about his mother’s fight for recognition, her little brother Daniel, and the way disappointment slowly eroded the family. Daniel disappeared chasing dreams on the other side of the world. His mother, left to scrape by, ended up in a cramped flat with three strangers, all adrift in their own broken lives.

“…So that’s the story, or what I remember of it,” the man said with a shrug.

Theo blinked. He wasn’t quite sure what the moral was, or if there even was one.



This is a little story, I never got to finishing; I don't really have the same time on my hands, as I've had in the past. Maybe I'll get to finish it one day, but who knows... Perhaps you liked it -- perhaps not, not my finest work, but if you read it through its entirety -- probs to you! If you're interested in any completed stories I've written, feel free to send me a DM. asking me.
Take care y'all!