Chapter 3She Ruined All Practice Pianos One Day Before My Music Audition

Professor Harrison looked at the bizarre, unified front his students were presenting. He clearly assumed this was just a case of collective pre-exam burnout.

His deeply furrowed brow relaxed slightly, and his tone softened.

"Alright. I know you all share a tight bond. But sit down and listen to me."

Professor Harrison cleared his throat, his expression turning dead serious.

"The audition panel has been updated. The head judge tomorrow is Maestro Rossi. The man has absolute, flawless perfect pitch."

"As your mentor, I am giving you one final warning."

"For tomorrow's repertoire, pitch accuracy is your absolute lifeline."

"You must pay extreme attention to the piano's tuning. If you suspect the pitch is off by even a fraction, you must immediately halt and request the official tuner."

"Even a quarter-step flat sounds like a chainsaw ripping through drywall to judges of that caliber."

"Do not delude yourselves into thinking your technique can mask a flat instrument. If the pitch is wrong, your entire emotional delivery collapses into a complete mess."

"One point will be the difference between Juilliard and working at a local diner. Do not fail on the absolute basics."

To emphasize his point, he casually walked over to the primary Steinway grand piano at the front of the room and struck a standard middle A.

The note rang out. It was a flat, dull A-flat.

Professor Harrison's face drained of all color, turning from pale to a furious shade of purple.

"The pitch is completely wrong. Who touched this instrument?"

His voice skyrocketed, shaking with uncontainable rage.

"This is the primary warm-up room for tomorrow's auditions. Do you have any idea what precise tuning means to a concert pianist?"

"Without a standard pitch, how are you supposed to warm up your ears? How are you supposed to find your center?"

Lola stepped out of the crowd, wearing that same clueless, innocent smile.

"Professor, Lola paid a guy to tune it down."

"Lola thinks it sounds so much softer this way. It makes everyone feel so emotionally stable."

She looked at him with wide, expectant eyes, genuinely waiting for a gold star and a pat on the head.

Professor Harrison froze like he had been struck by lightning.

He stared at Lola in pure disbelief, his finger trembling as he pointed at the Steinway.

"You... you detuned a concert grand by a full half-step?"

"Lola, tomorrow is the most rigorous conservatory audition in the state."

"What do you think this place is? Your personal playground?"

Lola's smile vanished. Her lower lip quivered, and the tears immediately spilled over.

"Lola just wanted to make the world a gentler place. In your eyes, are a bunch of rigid, dead rules more important than our happiness?"

"This is absolute insanity. You are playing Russian roulette with your futures."

Professor Harrison violently slammed his hand onto the piano lid.

"Call the academy tuner right now and fix this. If you don't, I will personally report you to the board and have your audition eligibility revoked on the spot."

A few of the students who had been cheering earlier suddenly looked incredibly nervous.

When their actual college admissions were on the line, the bravado started to crack.

"Yeah, Lola, maybe we should fix it. If the judges are really that strict about pitch, this is super risky."

But Lola just cried harder. She collapsed onto the hardwood floor in a heap of designer fabric, sobbing hysterically.

"Lola just wants to share true beauty with the world. Is it a crime to pursue art?"

Oliver couldn't take it anymore. He shoved Professor Harrison aside and wrapped his arms around Lola, pulling her into his chest.

"Back off, old man. Did Violet bribe you to come in here and terrorize us?"

Professor Harrison was so furious he couldn't even form words.

Oliver brutally cut him off, his face twisting with arrogance.

"Cut the crap. You just want to keep your precious admission stats high so you can get your corporate bonus."

"Lola is trying to save our artistic souls, and you just want us to be mindless exam robots."

"We are prodigies. Even if the pitch is a half-step flat, we will dominate those judges with our raw emotional power."