Pause

As the throng hovered on the brink of departure, the auditorium lobby hummed with a restless buzz, a tapestry of voices flowing through the air. With her jacket zipped tight and the cloth grazing her chin with each weak breath, Lalin hovered close to a tall column. She twisted the strands into little knots while her fingers worked at the tattered edge of her sleeve. As a reminder of the night's effort, the room smelt of polished wood and the subtle, sharp taste of sweat that was conveyed from the stage. She looked for Kiet's slender figure among the shifting mass of humans, but he had disappeared into a tangle of musicians, their animated motions cutting through the mist. Sharp and irreplaceable, a tangle of pride and uneasiness swirled in her stomach.

A few paces away, Mina stood with her arms folded, her gaze fixed on the worn tiles underfoot. Since the conclusion of the recital, the normal gleam in her eyes had faded, leaving behind an unfamiliar silence. Lalin forced a tiny grin as she stepped closer. "Are you going to the after-party for Chai? He's probably already claimed half the food and the best seat.

Mina's head jerked up and her eyes, which were wide and nearly liquid, caught the light. "Maybe later. I have to take care of stuff first.

Lalin's smile wavered as a strand of anxiety pulled at her. "Are you sure you're alright? You haven't said anything all night."

Mina gulped forcefully as her fingers clenched around the phone she was holding. "Yeah, I suppose it simply wrapped up. Nerves.

Lalin opened her mouth to ask more, but a sharp, authoritative, impatiently edged voice broke through the din. "Ms. Chaiyaporn?" A woman with her hair scraped into a tight bun and her blazer wrinkled sharply walked up. Her pen hovered like a poised blade as she held a clipboard.

Lalin turned, feeling her heart rate increase. "That's me."

With her heels slapping the ground, the woman surged forward. "From the academy, Ms. Arun. After your solo, we had a conversation. Your method drew my attention—nice work."

Lalin's face warmed as a flush slowly rose up her neck. "I'm grateful. I've been working so hard."

Ms. Arun's eyes glinted with cool appraisal, but the smile did not reach her lips. "Obviously. However, you were clearly tense. Do you believe that this is a barrier in this field of work?

The criticism chilled Lalin's skin like an unexpected gust. Her hands balled at her sides as her breath caught. "Excuse me?"

Unfazed, Ms. Arun cocked her head. "Mina, your friend mentioned it? She appeared concerned that your nervousness may prevent you from moving forward.

Mina stood rooted, her face pale to a sickly white, and Lalin's head snapped toward her. "What?"

Mina's hands trembled as the phone dropped a little in her hands, and her lips parted silently. Ignorant of the gap growing between them, Ms. Arun went on. It's not unusual, naturally. There are many performers that struggle with it. But for a job like this, you'll have to overcome this obstacle."

The ringing in Lalin's ears muffled out the din of the lobby, which faded into a distant rumbling. Her voice fell to a rough, sharp edge as she turned to Mina. "You informed her? Regarding my nervousness?"

Mina's whisper broke as tears filled her eyes. "It simply surfaced. I didn't intend to—"

"Didn't mean what?" Fueled by an increasing tide of hurt, Lalin's remarks pierced harder. "To discredit me? to portray me as weak?"

Mina flinched, her body elongating. "No! I hoped she would understand—perhaps it would be helpful.

Lalin's laugh scraped her throat, harsh and biting. "Aid? By giving her an excuse to question me?"

Ms. Arun moved, her poise eroding somewhat. "I'll, ah, give you two some space." She quickly withdrew, melting into the crowd with her heels pounding in a staccato pace.

Lalin's unwavering gaze pierced Mina. "You had no right."

Mina's eyes began to well up with tears, leaving dark lines on her cheeks. "I'm very sorry, Lalin. I didn't believe—"

Lalin shot back, her voice shaking with anger and something softer, more pained. "That's the issue," she said. "You failed to think. You just completed it.

Mina let out a sharp, loud sob that drew curious looks from the crowd's periphery. With a twinge of remorse cutting her rage, Lalin's resolve faltered, but she persisted because the betrayal was too recent to overcome.

"I let you in," she replied, her voice heavier now and softer. "And you used it against me."

Mina's cries were barely audible as her knees sagged a little. "I'll put things right. I promise.

Lalin turned and shoulderered through the crowd, her eyes watering and her chest taut. She felt the oppressive heat of the lobby until she pushed the doors wide and staggered out into the night. Her shadow sliced over the pavement in long, quivering lines as the air, sharp and merciless, ground her as she went.

The music room was silent when she walked in, the soft scuff of her shoes being absorbed by the high ceiling. Tonight it felt hollow, a whisper of comfort she couldn't understand, yet the subtle smell of rosin and old wood remained, a salve that typically calmed her anxieties. Her fingertips lightly, tentatively, and soundlessly brushed the piano keys as she fell upon the bench. Blurred and far away, her reflection gazed back from the gleaming surface.

With his violin case draped over one shoulder, Kiet entered as the door groaningly opened behind her. He clocked her slouched position, the redness rimming her eyes, and his brow furrowed. "Hey," he began, testing the air with a gentle voice. "You alright?"

Her throat constricted as she looked up. "Not even close."

With a soft thud, he put his case down and crossed to her, putting a hand on her shoulder after he hesitated. "What's going on?"

Lalin let out a breath, the sound fading somewhat. "Mina. She talked to a scout about my nervousness as if it were her own narrative.

With a flash of outrage in his dark eyes, Kiet's jaw tensed. "That is messed up. She is more knowledgeable.

"She says it was an accident." Lalin let out a dry laugh as her voice broke. "Doesn't make it hurt less."

He tightened his anchoring, warm hold on her shoulder. "You don't need to pardon her just yet. Her actions were terrible. You killed it out there, though, so don't let it go tonight."

Her gaze locked with his, a glimmer of light piercing the mist. "You think so?"

"I know so." Solid and certain, his fingers threaded around hers as his hand slipped lower. "I saw it."

Their linked hands acted as a tether in the darkness as the dense but not oppressive quiet descended upon them. Kiet's presence eased the edges of the dull agony that Mina's actions had caused, transforming the hurt into a gentler brightness.