Ethan's eyes widen as he risks a glance to Blair,
no longer hearing her play. He turns back to the sheet music, quickly figuring
out where they were at in the song. Maybe she got lost. She is playing this
from memory after all.
Measure 50.
They were only halfway through the song!
He risks another glance, seeing her turning to him, tears in her large hazel eyes. She's mouthing something to him that he can only barely read from her pale pink lips.
"I can't hear anything."
The audience is distraught, murmuring to themselves about Blair.
Blair fluidly moves back to him, reading her notes over his shoulder. Ethan panics, his fingers speeding up to catch up with her erratic vibrato. She's not in the right place, skipping to the end of the song.
She's silently saying something with her music that Ethan can clearly hear. Help me. Please.
The song finishes as Ethan plays the last chord, letting it ring loudly. It silences the raving listeners. Ethan quickly guides the still crying Blair off stage.
As soon as they're alone, she collapses into his arms, becoming a sobbing mess. Ethan can do little to comfort her. He listens as she speaks to him, whispering his replies.
Blair Sauveterre was tone deaf. His best friend couldn't hear music.
As a musician, this was, in Ethan's mind, the most terrible thing that could happen to her. Music was her first love. Everything else was second.
He knew how much time she put into practice, trying to make her performances perfect. She wrote small notes to herself all over her sheet music, and nearly starved herself from playing so much. Ethan, at times, had to force her to eat, and put her flute down for five or ten minutes to let her hands rest. Blair loved music more than anything else, and now she couldn't hear it.
Ethan let out a sigh, running a hand through her long strawberry-blonde hair. "Blair, look at me," he softly commands.
She obeys, looking to him with misery clear in her gaze.
He messes with a strand of her wavy hair for a moment, moving her into his lap, cradling her petite form in his arms. "You'll get over this, Blair. I promise; I'll help you, and I won't rest until you can hear music again."
Blair grips his shirt in her small fingers, sobbing harder. Ethan held her tightly, letting her tears stain his suit. A tear slides down his face as well. Why? Why did this happen? Everything we've worked for is gone. There's no way we got a good score on our piece.
Ethan looks up as someone blocks the small amount of light they had. It was his identical twin brother, Xedrix. His accompanist, Dannie, moves next to him. They don't have to say a word to know what happened.
Dannie messes with a piece of her hair, twisting it and combing through it with her hand. Xedrix fidgets with the silver ring on his thumb. They glance to other, whisper their condolences and move to the stage for their own performance.
As usual, they stun the audience in a good way, bow, and exit the stage, moving back to Ethan and Blair. They join them on the ground as Blair stops weeping. She sniffles, looking at them.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice barely audible.
"It's okay," Dannie replies.
Ethan and Xedrix nod in agreement. Everything's gonna be fine, Blair. Don't worry about it. You can still play; you'll be fine. I swear.
Measure 50.
They were only halfway through the song!
He risks another glance, seeing her turning to him, tears in her large hazel eyes. She's mouthing something to him that he can only barely read from her pale pink lips.
"I can't hear anything."
The audience is distraught, murmuring to themselves about Blair.
Blair fluidly moves back to him, reading her notes over his shoulder. Ethan panics, his fingers speeding up to catch up with her erratic vibrato. She's not in the right place, skipping to the end of the song.
She's silently saying something with her music that Ethan can clearly hear. Help me. Please.
The song finishes as Ethan plays the last chord, letting it ring loudly. It silences the raving listeners. Ethan quickly guides the still crying Blair off stage.
As soon as they're alone, she collapses into his arms, becoming a sobbing mess. Ethan can do little to comfort her. He listens as she speaks to him, whispering his replies.
Blair Sauveterre was tone deaf. His best friend couldn't hear music.
As a musician, this was, in Ethan's mind, the most terrible thing that could happen to her. Music was her first love. Everything else was second.
He knew how much time she put into practice, trying to make her performances perfect. She wrote small notes to herself all over her sheet music, and nearly starved herself from playing so much. Ethan, at times, had to force her to eat, and put her flute down for five or ten minutes to let her hands rest. Blair loved music more than anything else, and now she couldn't hear it.
Ethan let out a sigh, running a hand through her long strawberry-blonde hair. "Blair, look at me," he softly commands.
She obeys, looking to him with misery clear in her gaze.
He messes with a strand of her wavy hair for a moment, moving her into his lap, cradling her petite form in his arms. "You'll get over this, Blair. I promise; I'll help you, and I won't rest until you can hear music again."
Blair grips his shirt in her small fingers, sobbing harder. Ethan held her tightly, letting her tears stain his suit. A tear slides down his face as well. Why? Why did this happen? Everything we've worked for is gone. There's no way we got a good score on our piece.
Ethan looks up as someone blocks the small amount of light they had. It was his identical twin brother, Xedrix. His accompanist, Dannie, moves next to him. They don't have to say a word to know what happened.
Dannie messes with a piece of her hair, twisting it and combing through it with her hand. Xedrix fidgets with the silver ring on his thumb. They glance to other, whisper their condolences and move to the stage for their own performance.
As usual, they stun the audience in a good way, bow, and exit the stage, moving back to Ethan and Blair. They join them on the ground as Blair stops weeping. She sniffles, looking at them.
"I'm sorry," she mumbles, her voice barely audible.
"It's okay," Dannie replies.
Ethan and Xedrix nod in agreement. Everything's gonna be fine, Blair. Don't worry about it. You can still play; you'll be fine. I swear.
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