Mallory's Melody

Chapter 10

"WE HAVE THREE STAGES TO THIS AUDITION—THE JUDGING STAGE, THE PARTNERING STAGE, AND FINALLY, THE FACE OFF," William addressed everyone in the room, his voice sonorous and intimidating. Even before the auditions started, he had already eliminated over a hundred contestants, people he said were from these three categories:

1. Those who were rude. 

2. Those who had better chances of making it in broadcasting than in music. 

3. And, surprisingly, those who looked too shy to give him the competence he sought for. (Like determining competency was a matter of outward appearance)

But standing in the middle of the room with fear spiralling through her body, Mallory wondered why William didn't eliminate her, since she was from the third category.

The silence that filled the room was similar to that which could be found in a mortuary. It was grave, almost sacrosanct. Mallory averted her gaze to the upholstered podium William stood upon.

William continued. "And lastly, I want to appeal to you all, to cancel out any form of fear from yourself, because fear diminishes the quality of your performance. But more importantly, because I believe you all have what it takes to be here. I've selected the majority of you for that very reason." He glanced at Mallory as if he was referring her. "The best of people are the most fearful, but the greatest of people work in spite of the fear."

People clapped at that. But of course, William, being a man unbothered by the approval of the crowd, rose his hands to silence them. 

"And with this, I can officially welcome you to the judging stage, with the first contestant being Diana Gilbert," he said and stepped off the stage. 

A pale-skinned girl emerged from behind the red curtains, a violin fastened to her hands. The crowd applauded her, but she remained stoic, unfazed. Mallory felt threatened even before she began her performance. Her confident demeanour announced her competence without her having to prove it. A torrent of blondness rolled from her shoulders and dropped to her thin waist. 

When she began to play, what Mallory had left of her confidence was no more. Something about Diana's transitioning screamed expertise. She never missed a note or went off tune. Awing gasps filled the vacant space in the atmosphere, gasps that validated the competency this girl had. It was all intimidating, the resolve in her face, the passion that oozed out of her violin.  She fiddled the violin with gracile expertise that made Mallory feel insecure. If these were the kind of people she was to go against, she didn't have a flimsy chance of making it to the next round. Not a chance.

All through the few minutes Diana performed, Mallory was as green as envy. She averted her attention from Diana, not wanting to acknowledge the truth, that Diana Gilbert was a terrific and prolific player, that she was better than her.

An applause long-stifled by Diana's awe-inspiring performance, erupted in the room the moment she was done with her performance. The intensity of their applause gave Mallory the impression that the ground was shaking, and, the building, teetering. But this girl still remained unfazed, emotionless, not regarding the crowd at all. She stepped from the steps and faced the panels of judges to receive her judgment.

Just as Mallory was about to focus on what the judges had to say about Diana's performance —inwardly hoping they would say something disparaging—a hand tapped on her shoulder.

She turned to find Jason Trevor. He held out a violin to her,. It was a spotless, immaculate white that screamed luxury, nothing compared to the shabby one she had at home, whose strings were fastened with duct tapes.

"For me?" Mallory asked, the excitement in her voice belying her intention to sound unimpressed.

 "Yeah."