𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

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Arsyne exhaled as she opened her eyes, scanning the crowd in front of her

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Arsyne exhaled as she opened her eyes, scanning the crowd in front of her. Her clammy hands tightened the grip on her bow, imprinting a mark. Her heart beat quickened as she noticed the amount of people in the spacious concert hall, eyes darting from person to person, trying to find the two people she needed in that moment.


The awaiting eyes of the crowd made her grip the neck of her cello firmly. Their judgmental glares pierced through her, criticizing every flaw on her body. Whether it was the tattoos across her almond skin, the piercings adorning her ears and nose or her platinum blonde locs; she didn't know.


She didn't care.


All that was on her mind was whether she should book it out of that place and drown her sorrows in Shōchū or continue the show. It had only been a few seconds since the host announced her name and the school she was representing but she felt as though it had been hours. Arsyne thought that maybe if she waited they would show up, but they didn't.


What did i expect?


The feeling of anxiety faded away as it was replaced with a bubbling feeling building in her chest. She gritted her teeth, the grip she had on her instrument tightening within the seconds. She inhaled sharply before exhaling, lifting the bow in her right hand and hovering it above the cello's strings.


Arsyne could feel her heart beat slow down in the moment of silence just before pulling her bow across the strings and a soothing melodious song resounded in the hall. The harmonious notes of Bach- Cello Suite No. 2 in D minor Prelude BWV 1008 chorused from her cello. The piece began with a disjointed dance between the G and D strings, making the audience feel as though the melody was moving toward a goal, an endgame. The low hum of her cello reverberated within their bodies, making a shiver run up all their spines and goosebumps surface across their skin.


The audience felt ready and willing to meet any challenge as the song began to progress. Then the beautiful low tone began to sway, to move, to shift and shake. It felt as if the piece had lost its way, in a meandering, piecemeal way; it wasn't bad, just off on its own way. But then, finally, the piece climbs and climbs, bit by tiny bit, until it reaches a sudden peak and the audience find themselves back around at the start of it all.


The way her fingers danced across the strings and the way her bow swayed, entranced the audience with her grace. Poise and class were the words they would have used to describe the young girl. Her body moved along with the piece, eyes closed as she herself got lost in the moment. Everything and everyone seemed to disappear, it was only her and her beautiful cello.


How it had always been and how it would always be.


The way she played the piece brought an ache to everyone's heart. Feeling all the emotions she placed into it. All the anger, all the pain, all those negative emotions made their souls feel heavy. She told a story through her talent that no one could decipher. What had hurt her so much as to make them all feel her pain? As the end of the piece neared, sadness was the only emotion the audience had interpreted, bringing tears to most. The low hum of the cello was indeed beautiful and rather hard to not get lost into.


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