Between The Notes

Tensions Rise

A month had passed since Emma began working with Adele, and in that time, she had poured every ounce of energy she had into the project. The work was grueling, demanding more of her than she had ever imagined, but she thrived on the challenge. Adele’s high expectations had driven her to new heights as a musician, and she took pride in meeting those standards, no matter how difficult the task.

Adele had been noticeably satisfied with Emma’s work, which made the endless hours and the intense scrutiny feel worthwhile. But over the last week, things had changed. The studio, once a place of creative collaboration and focused intensity, had become a battlefield. And the target of Adele’s newfound fury seemed to be Emma.

It had all started after a seemingly innocuous moment. During a rare break, Emma had been chatting with the violinist, a kind and talented woman named Sophia. They had bonded over their shared love of classical music, and their conversation was filled with laughter as they swapped stories about their favorite composers. It was a brief moment of levity in an otherwise stressful environment.

But Adele had seen them together, and something in her had shifted.

At first, Emma didn’t notice the change. Adele continued to push her as she always had, but the pressure began to mount in ways that felt different—more personal. Adele’s critiques became harsher, her demands more unreasonable. She started to single Emma out, making her stay longer than the rest of the team, insisting on multiple revisions of pieces that had previously been deemed perfect. She even cut Emma’s break times entirely, leaving her with barely enough time to eat, let alone rest.

The breaking point came when Adele abruptly fired Sophia. The reason given was flimsy at best—something about a minor disagreement over the interpretation of a piece. But Emma knew there was more to it. She had seen the anger in Adele’s eyes when she caught them laughing together, and now Sophia was gone.

Emma was left to bear the brunt of Adele’s unexplained wrath. The days became an endless cycle of grueling tasks and relentless pressure. Adele was unforgiving, pushing Emma to her limits and beyond. The once supportive, if demanding, mentor had transformed into a figure of cold, unyielding authority. It was as if every ounce of warmth had been drained from her, replaced by an iron will that tolerated nothing less than absolute obedience.

Emma tried to endure it, telling herself that it was just part of the job. But her body was beginning to betray her. The lack of rest, the skipped meals, and the constant stress were taking a toll. Dark circles had appeared under her eyes, and she moved through the day in a haze of exhaustion, her fingers trembling as they played the keys. Yet, she refused to complain or show weakness, determined to meet Adele’s demands no matter the cost.

The rest of the team noticed the change in Adele’s behavior, but no one dared to question her directly. Whispers circulated, and a sense of unease settled over the studio. Everyone could see that Emma was struggling, but Adele’s sudden strictness silenced any attempts to intervene. The once collaborative atmosphere had turned tense, with everyone walking on eggshells around the singer.

Adele’s agent, a sharp and perceptive woman named Lucy, had been observing the situation closely. She could see that something was wrong—terribly wrong—but Adele was a notoriously private person, and getting her to open up was no easy feat. Still, Lucy knew she had to try.

One evening, after a particularly grueling session, Lucy approached Adele as she was leaving the studio. “Adele, can we talk for a moment?”

Adele, who had been on her way out the door, paused and turned to face her. Her expression was impassive, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something Lucy couldn’t quite place.

“What is it, Lucy?” Adele asked, her tone cool and controlled.

Lucy hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve noticed you’ve been… tougher on Emma lately. And I mean, tougher than usual. It’s starting to affect her. She looks exhausted, and the others are worried.”

Adele’s gaze hardened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Emma’s fine. She’s strong, and she can handle it. I’m just making sure we get the best out of her.”

Lucy wasn’t convinced. “Adele, this isn’t like you. I know you push people, but this… this is different. Is there something going on that I should know about?”

Adele’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it looked like she might say something more. But then she shook her head, her expression unreadable. “There’s nothing to talk about, Lucy. I know what I’m doing.”

Lucy sighed, realizing she wasn’t going to get through to Adele—not tonight, at least. “Alright, but just… keep an eye on her, okay? She’s been working herself to the bone.”

Adele’s response was a curt nod before she turned and walked away, leaving Lucy with a growing sense of unease.

The next day, Adele’s relentless drive showed no signs of abating. She pushed Emma harder than ever, demanding perfection with an intensity that left no room for error. Emma, desperate to meet Adele’s expectations, threw herself into her work, ignoring the warning signs her body was sending her.

But the strain was too much. By midday, Emma was running on fumes. She hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night, and her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely play. Still, she forced herself to continue, driven by a need to prove herself to Adele, to show that she could handle whatever was thrown at her.

It happened during a particularly demanding session. Emma was at the piano, her fingers stumbling over the keys as she tried to play through her exhaustion. Adele was watching her closely, her gaze sharp and critical. Emma could feel the pressure mounting, her vision blurring as she struggled to focus.

And then, without warning, everything went black.

Emma’s body crumpled, her consciousness slipping away as she slumped forward. The last thing she felt was a pair of strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.

When she came to, the world was a blur of sounds and sensations. She was lying on a couch in the studio, her head resting on something soft. There was a cool hand on her forehead, and she could hear voices—muffled and distant—speaking in urgent tones.

“Emma… Emma, can you hear me?”

The voice was soft, almost gentle, and as Emma’s vision cleared, she found herself looking up into the face of Adele. The harsh, unyielding expression she had worn all week was gone, replaced by something else—something that looked like concern.

“Emma, it’s alright. Just take it easy,” Adele said, her voice soothing. She was kneeling beside the couch, her hand resting on Emma’s forehead, gently brushing back a strand of hair.

Emma blinked, trying to make sense of what had happened. Her body felt weak, every muscle aching with exhaustion. “I… I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

“Don’t be sorry,” Adele said firmly, her eyes filled with an intensity that Emma hadn’t seen before. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

For a moment, Emma was too stunned to respond. This was the first time Adele had shown any real concern for her well-being, and it was jarring after the harsh treatment she had endured. She tried to sit up, but Adele gently pushed her back down.

“Stay still,” Adele ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You fainted, Emma. You’re not getting up until I’m sure you’re okay.”

Emma lay back, too exhausted to resist. As she closed her eyes, she felt Adele’s hand still resting on her forehead, the touch oddly comforting. It was as if the walls Adele had built around herself had momentarily come down, revealing a side of her that Emma hadn’t seen before.

In that moment, Emma realized that there was more to Adele than the demanding perfectionist she had come to know. There was something deeper, something more complicated, driving her behavior. And as she drifted back into a restless sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that had made Adele act the way she had over the past week.

But for now, all Emma could do was rest, her body too drained to do anything else. And as she slept, Adele sat beside her, her expression unreadable as she watched over her with a mix of emotions she couldn’t quite understand herself.