Your very first memory is of a figure sitting at a piano, slowly making their way through a song, giving you your first taste of music. You do not remember who they were, nor what they looked like. You can't even remember if it was a male or female. The only thing you remember is the music, and it was not good. You haven't heard better music, but something inside you tells you this is not what music is supposed to be. Right now you don't have the words to describe your distaste so you start crying.

"Shhh Dmitri, your mother is teaching. Are you hungry? We will feed you soon my boy."

Your father picks you up and takes you to your room. For the next few years you are not allowed to be in the room when your mother is giving lessons. Every time a student comes to your house you are forced to your room. When you are old enough you begin to play outside with other children in the neighborhood during the times you are not allowed in the piano room. Many of your friends take lessons from your mother. On one such occasion you are playing football in the streets of St. Petersburg. 

"Yuri you are as bad at goalie as you are at piano." you joke to your friend after he lets in another goal through the shoes you have used to mark the goalposts.

"Shut up bro, I'd like to see you do better." He responds. You let in more goals than he did and stay quiet for the rest of the day. WIth your pride bruised that night you ask your mom to teach you to play piano.