The silence inside the Moon City Grand Theater was no longer reverent; it was suffocating.
Moments ago, the hall had been filled with thunderous applause for Faye's performance. Now, the air was thick with confusion. The audience watched as Maestro Weiss, the man who held the keys to the kingdom of classical music, stared at his phone screen with a darkening expression.
On stage, Faye stood frozen. The spotlight, which had felt like a warm embrace of glory just seconds ago, now felt like an interrogation lamp. She gripped her violin bow so tightly her knuckles turned white. She didn't know what was happening, but a primal instinct told her that the ground beneath her feet was about to crumble.
Weiss slowly lowered his phone. He didn't look at the audience. He looked directly at Faye, his eyes stripped of all warmth.
"You said you changed the key to C Major to convey 'inner sadness'?" Weiss asked, his voice amplified by the microphone. It was calm, but it was the calm before a hurricane.
Faye swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Yes, Maestro. I felt that D Major was too... aggressive. I wanted to soften the edges, to make it more elegant."
"Elegant?" Weiss let out a sharp, incredulous laugh that echoed through the silent hall.
He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. "This piece was not meant to be elegant! It was meant to be a war cry! It was written to dance on the edge of a cliff! The original composition in D Major demands rapid string crossings and stretches that require absolute technical mastery. It is difficult because the struggle is part of the emotion!"
Weiss pointed a trembling finger at Faye. "You didn't change it for 'inner sadness.' You changed it because your fingers were too slow to play the original! You lowered the difficulty because you couldn't handle the technique! And that vibrato in the third measure—you slathered it on like cheap makeup to hide your unstable pitch!"
The accusation hit the audience like a physical blow.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
*Too slow?*
*Couldn't handle the technique?*
*Cheap makeup?*
Faye felt the blood drain from her face. Her legs turned to jelly. "I... I didn't..."
"Do not lie to me!" Weiss roared, his passion for music turning into a terrifying rage. "Music does not lie! You took a tiger and pulled its teeth to make it a house cat! You took a masterpiece of raw genius and turned it into a safe, mediocre, commercial product! This is not genius. This is a fraud! You are painting gold over plastic!"
In the VIP seating area, Vera slumped back into her chair, her hand flying to her mouth. "What... what is happening? He just said she was a genius! Why is he shouting at her?"
Xavier frowned deeply, his eyes locked on the stage. He wasn't a musician, but he understood the gravity of the situation. Weiss had seen through Faye. The "inspiration" she claimed to have wasn't hers to control, and when she tried to mold it, she broke it.
"And tell me," Weiss continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "if this was your 'sudden inspiration,' why do you play it with the understanding of a stranger? You play the notes, but you do not know the soul. Who did you steal this from?"
Faye burst into tears.
The humiliation was absolute. She stood center stage, weeping, stripped of her dignity in front of the entire upper crust of Moon City society.
She couldn't answer. Admitting she stole it from Ren—the "dropout" sister everyone despised—would be social suicide.
"Get off the stage," Weiss waved his hand dismissively, sitting back down. "I have no patience for counterfeits."
Faye fled. She ran off the stage, her heels clicking frantically against the floor, the sound of her sobbing echoing in the microphone before a technician cut the feed.
***
As Faye disappeared into the wings, the theater remained in a state of shock. The audition was effectively over; no one could follow that drama.
But Maestro Weiss wasn't done.
He grabbed his phone again, rereading the text message from "Disciple."
*The vibrato is greasy... Transposed to hide slow fingers...*
The sender knew. The sender knew the original intent of the piece. The sender knew exactly why the performance was flawed.
This meant the sender—his elusive, genius disciple—was in the building.
Weiss's eyes widened. He looked up at the VVIP boxes on the third tier. The glass was tinted; he couldn't see inside.
But he felt it.
"She's here," Weiss muttered. Then he yelled, "SHE'S HERE!"
Ignoring the bewildered host and the stunned Mrs. Fitz, Weiss jumped off the judges' platform. He hitched up his tuxedo pants and sprinted toward the exit, moving with a speed that defied his age.
"Maestro! Maestro, where are you going?" the organizers shouted, chasing after him.
"Out of my way!" Weiss screamed, pushing past a security guard. "My disciple is here! I have to catch her before she escapes again!"
The audience watched in bewilderment as the world-renowned musician ran out of the hall like a madman, leaving a trail of chaos in his wake.
***
While the main hall descended into anarchy, the VVIP exit on the north side of the theater was quiet and serene.
Thick red carpets muffled the sound of footsteps. The air smelled of fresh lilies.
Ren walked down the private corridor, her hands deep in the pockets of her oversized coat. She had pulled her cap down low, hiding her eyes.
Juan walked beside her, his stride long and relaxed. Luke followed, whistling a low tune, looking thoroughly entertained by the show they had just witnessed.
The General Manager of the Grand Theater was waiting at the private exit. He was sweating slightly, terrified of displeasing the guests who had occupied the supreme box. When he saw them approach, he bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle.
"Miss Ren, Mr. Juan," the Manager said, his voice trembling with deference. "I hope the viewing experience was satisfactory. Was the temperature to your liking? Was the fruit fresh enough?"
Ren paused, glancing at the nervous man. "It was fine," she said, her voice cool. "Just a bit noisy."
"My apologies! A thousand apologies!" The Manager looked ready to faint. "We will upgrade the soundproofing immediately! Next time, I ensure you total silence!"
He rushed forward to open the double glass doors leading to the private VVIP parking lot.
Outside, the autumn wind was brisk. The black Volkswagen Phaeton was parked right at the curb, its engine already purring.
Ren stepped out into the cool air.
At that exact moment, the side door of the theater—the exit for the regular performers and their families—burst open.
Vera came out, supporting a sobbing Faye. Xavier followed close behind, looking grim.
They were heading toward the public parking lot, but their path took them past the VVIP exit.
They stopped.
Vera blinked, her eyes red from crying. She saw the General Manager—a man who had ignored her earlier—bowing almost to the ground.
She saw the sleek black car.
And she saw the figure standing by the open car door.
The figure was tall and slender, dressed in a black coat and a black cap.
It was a silhouette Vera knew. It was a silhouette she had seen growing up in her sister's house, a silhouette she had scolded a thousand times.
"Ren?" Vera whispered, her voice cracking.
Faye looked up, her mascara running down her cheeks. Her eyes locked onto the back of the figure.
That coat. She had seen Ren wearing it at school.
"It... it can't be," Faye choked out. "That's the VVIP exit. That car... that's the car from the forum photos."
Before they could say anything, Ren slid into the passenger seat.
Juan walked around the front of the car. He didn't even glance at the Lane family standing twenty meters away. He got in, and the car glided away silently, disappearing into the city traffic like a phantom.
Seconds later, the heavy doors of the main theater entrance banged open.
Maestro Weiss burst onto the street, panting heavily, his bow tie undone.
"Wait! Wait!" Weiss screamed, waving his arms at the empty street. "Disciple! Don't go! I have premium tea! I have rare violins! Just talk to me!"
He stood there, a legend of the music world, looking devastated as he stared at the tail lights of the retreating Phaeton.
Vera and Faye stood frozen on the sidewalk.
The wind blew a stray leaf past Faye's feet.
"Mom," Faye whispered, her voice trembling with a new kind of fear. "Did you see that? Maestro Weiss... he was chasing that car."
Vera couldn't speak. Her mind was trying to reconcile two impossible facts.
One: Her daughter, the "genius," had just been humiliated and rejected.
Two: Her niece, the "dropout," had just left via the VVIP exit, pursued by the very man Faye had tried so hard to impress.
It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare.
***
Inside the quiet luxury of the Phaeton, the chaos of the theater felt miles away.
Ren leaned back against the heated leather seat, closing her eyes.
Her phone buzzed.
**[ Old Weiss: You heartless brat! I saw your car! I ran so fast I almost pulled a hamstring! ]**
**[ Old Weiss: That girl on stage... was she your relative? I admit, the melody had potential, but her execution was garbage. If she is your family, I can maybe give her a passing grade out of respect for you... ]**
Ren opened one eye. She read the message and scoffed.
She typed a reply with one hand.
**[ Ren: Not close. Don't give her any face. ]**
**[ Ren: And next time, if you let someone pollute my ears with that level of trash again, I'm blocking your number. ]**
She hit send and tossed the phone onto the dashboard.
Garbage belonged in the trash can. Whether it was the stolen melody or Faye's fragile vanity, Ren had no interest in saving any of it.
Juan glanced at her from the driver's seat. He saw the sharp set of her jaw and the coldness in her eyes.
He reached into the center console, pulled out a small tin, and popped the lid.
"Here," he said softly.
He held out a peeled mint candy.
Ren leaned forward and took it with her mouth. The cool, sweet flavor melted on her tongue, chasing away the irritation.
"Hungry?" Juan asked.
"Yeah," Ren mumbled, relaxing into the seat.
"Charles had some hairy crabs flown in from the Capital this morning," Juan said, turning the steering wheel smoothly. "We're going to the private kitchen. I'll peel them for you."
Ren's eyes lit up slightly.
"Okay."
The car sped through the night, carrying the hidden genius toward a warm meal, leaving the shattered dreams of the Lane family in the dust behind them.
**[Chapter 56 End]**