Aurora, a talented violinist sponsored by Jason, finds herself trapped in a controlling relationship that stifles her dreams and individuality. As she navigates the complexities of love, ambition, and self-discovery, Aurora must confront her past an...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
1
Jason is convinced that I can't leave him. I am a pet he has kept for many years, with beautiful fur and a melodious voice. Sometimes, I lie by the window, yearning for the outside world, but ultimately, I lack the ability to resist hunger and cold.
Later, I realized that he doesn't understand what love is. His world is selfish and narrow, and he doesn't allow anyone to shake his established theories.
It's a terrifying feeling of contemplation and anger. Finally, I have firmly decided to leave.
2
The cause of it all was at a social gathering where Jason was already three parts drunk. His hand rested on my waist as he cheerfully said, "Today is a rare occasion gathering with a few brothers. Let Aurora play a tune to liven things up. She's got some skill; she's currently with the provincial orchestra." It was only then that I realized why he insisted I carry the violin when we left home.
The assembly consisted mostly of older men, and at his words, each one looked at me with a smile, as if appreciating a geisha. I bit my tongue, staring at the orange peel on the fruit platter, meticulously folded into a perfect curve, mere decoration. Unhappy with my response, Jason seemingly reminded but actually exerted pressure, "Aurora? Have you had too much to drink?"
I instinctively shivered, looking at the orange peel in front of me, folded into a perfect curve but only serving as decoration. I hung up a smile, "No, then I'll play a piece for everyone. I hope you broad-minded gentlemen won't disdain it." Jason's mouth curved into a satisfied smile, and the gaze behind his glasses softened, "Go ahead."
Melodious notes filled the air, and everyone present was soon immersed in it, even the greasy-faced men softened under the influence of world-famous melodies. I've played Massenet's "Meditation" many times, often able to complete it in one go without thinking. So when a sudden memory lapse occurred, I could only skip the middle section and proceed directly to the next.
This group was mostly composed of business people who lacked musical expertise, so they couldn't discern the error. Jason could, but he cared about his face and wouldn't dismantle my performance at this moment. A man in a well-tailored suit made a gesture for me to stop.
The music abruptly ceased, and the man looked teasingly at Jason. Jason turned to me, a hint of anger already on his face, "Aurora, slacking off lately?" The man chuckled mockingly, "Speaking of which, I attended a performance by the provincial orchestra the day before yesterday, and I didn't see Miss Aurora there... Jason, I know you want to boast about your girlfriend in front of us, but you can't fabricate things out of thin air. Getting into the provincial orchestra requires some real talent."
Someone intervened to smooth things over, and the matter was considered settled. On the way home after it ended, Jason asked casually, "What's going on?" Knowing I couldn't hide it, I lowered my voice in a pitiful manner, "Actually, I've resigned from the provincial orchestra." "Resigned?" Jason turned to look at me sharply, recalling something. Incredulity mixed with mockery, he said, "Aurora, growing a backbone, actually dares to resign!"
