?<strong>Chapter 375:</strong>


    Elyse lingered in the dreamy soundscape long after the final notes of her violin faded. Blinking, she slowly reconnected with the room, then lifted her chin and met Irving’s gaze. “Don’t call me average,” she dered.


    Irving, caught off guard by the fiery retort from her, chuckled beneath his breath. Lowering his head, he plucked the violin from her grasp. With a casual tilt of his head, he coaxed the first note from the instrument, sending a shiver down Elyse’s spine. Irving was ying “Winter,” a piece notorious for its intricate tricks. Each note painted a scene. Elyse stood frozen in a destendscape, the biting wind and icy snow threatening to consume her. Irving’s fingers danced across the strings, a relentless storm brewing in his music. The final note hung in the air before Irving opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on the mesmerized Elyse. Perhaps unfazed by her reaction, he tossed the violin back to her and sauntered away, muttering under his breath, “Just average. Utterly average.”


    Elyse’s brow furrowed in confusion. Gavin, sensing her turmoil, offered a cating pat on the shoulder. “Don’t take it personally. That’s just Irving. Sharp tongue, maybe not the warmest soul, but an undeniable violin prodigy.”


    Elyse frowned again. Was Gavin implying Irving was a one-trick pony? Just good at the violin and nothing else. Speaking ofte, a voice interrupted their exchange. Ady with a gentle smile, dressed in jeans and a sweater, breezed into the room, her long hair trailing behind her. As she approached, a soft fragrance tickled Elyse’s nose.


    “I’m Fiona Evans. Apologies for my tardiness. Here’s the bread I brought for everyone. I got held up while making it.” She produced a steaming loaf from her bag and handed it to Gavin, sticking out her tongue yfully. “For the love of bread, Gavin, don’t tell Mr. Tucker I’mte, alright?”


    Gavin feigned helplessness, reaching out to touch the warm bread. “Alright, alright. Sealed with the sacred pact of bread. Your secret’s safe with me.”


    Elyse, still confused, patted Fiona’s head and asked, “What time is consideredte?”


    “Half past nine,” Gavin replied.


    Elyse’s eyes widened. “Then aren’t you all…”


    Gavin’s hand shot up, covering her mouth. “Let’s just grab a bite before Mr. Tucker arrives,” he interjected. Elyse, speechless, watched as Gavin effectively shut down her inquiry.


    As they started to enjoy the bread, even the ever-solitary Irving joined them. Fiona, curious, took a bite of the bread and asked, “I heard you were once the concertmaster of the Celestial Sounds Symphony. Why the switch? Did you leave to focus on learning from Mr. Tucker?”


    After a thoughtful pause, Elyse exined her reason for leaving. Gavin’s face creased in surprise. “They kicked out a talentedposer like you? Sounds like the Celestial Sounds Symphony is on a downward spiral. Rotten leadership from the top, I bet.”


    Taking a sip of coffee, Irving said calmly, “Word on the street is there’s a power struggle within that orchestra. Your incident suggests that the assistant director might be gaining the upper hand.”


    Fiona, realizing she’d touched a nerve, reached out tofort Elyse. “Don’t fret. Here, your talent will flourish, not be stifled.”


    Elyse nodded in agreement. “Honestly, while I was initially sad about leaving, now I’m grateful. It feels like here, I can truly focus on my music.”


    “Free music,” Fiona chimed in, “a world away from the rigid constraints of an orchestra.” Elyse’s eyes sparkled with excitement.


    As they finished the bread, Irving cast a curious nce toward the door. “What’s keeping Mr. Tucker? Is he not interested in taking you on as an apprentice?”


    Panic flickered across Elyse’s face as she looked helplessly at the others. Gavin shot Irving a warning re. “Watch your words, Irving. Don’t scare her. Mr. Tucker must be busy. No need to worry.”


    Irving snorted and returned to his coffee. The clock ticked closer to lunchtime when the studio door swung open, revealing Cody holding the hand of a small boy. The eight-year-old wore a backpack and possessed a delicate face that, despite his age, held a serious expression.


    Cody offered Elyse an apologetic smile. “Apologies for the dy. Had to pick up Forrest.”


    Elyse hurriedly reassured him. “It’s alright, Mr. Tucker. I’ve been getting along well with Gavin, Irving, and Fiona. Don’t worry.”


    Cody then turned to Forrest. “Forrest Greene, say hello to Elyse and introduce yourself.”


    Forrest looked up, his voice sweet as honey. “Hello, Elyse. Heard about you from Mr. Tucker. I’m Forrest Greene, sort of your senior in the studio. Feel free to ask me anything.”


    Elyse was taken aback by Forrest’s words.


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