Chapter 81

Paola's hands stalled briefly on the keys. She had drilled this transition over and over, but the tonal shift still gave her trouble. Luckily, her long familiarity with the piano helped her smooth over the slip. To the crowd,nothing seemed off.

Backstage, Marcus narrowed his eyes. With a low voice, he turned to Marlon Swain and asked,this what she wrote for Spencer?" His tone was quiet, but his doubt came through clearly. "It doesn't sound like her."

Marlon, a skilled musician himself, shared more than just a work relationship with Marcus. Most days, when Paola had questions, she reached out through email. It was Marlon who usually replied.

"I've heard most of her work," said Marlon. "This one's better than her usual, sure. But after the third section, it loses structure. Spencer's a director, not a composer. He might not notice the flaws, but they're there."

"You, too, think it needs fixing?" asked Marcus.

"Definitely.The second half feels incomplete," Marlon replied. "It still reads like a rough draft."

Great minds often shared the same view.

Paola brought the piece to a close with practiced ease, then rose with poise and gave a polished bow.

The crowd responded with loud applause.

She gave a playful wink and said, "Thanks to Marcus for the chance to play, and to Mr. Aguilar for letting me compose. And of course, thank you all for your support."

She flashed another smile. "If you liked it, feel free to follow me online. I'll be reading your feedback and making changes."

The purpose couldn't be more obvious-she wanted fame and popularity.

Rylie, who had sat silently the entire time, slowly raised her hand. "Paola," she said, "I think there's still room for improvement.".

The air turned heavy. Nobody expected her to speak. What nerve-to say that now?

Paola blinked,clearly thrown off."Wh-what did you say?"

Still wearing an innocent expression, Rylie said, "The piece wasn't quite right."

"Rylie!" snapped Isabella. "Do you have any idea where you are? Why would you say something like that during Mr. Owen's recital? There's no way Paola played it wrong."

Rylie tilted her head slightly. "But didn't she say she welcomes feedback? I'm only pointing out what I heard.Why get so defensive?"

Something in Paola's chest clenched. She couldn't let Rylie take the stage - not now. That would be disastrous.

Trying to brush it off, she stepped to the edge of the platform and forced a light tone."Rylie, you're joking,right? This piece has already passed through Mr. Aguilar and others-"

"Oh really?" Rylie turned to Spencer with an innocent look. "Mr. Aguilar, do you think this piece is perfect too?"

Spencer didn't speak right away. As a director, not a musician, he thought the piece suited his film well enough and might even earn awards. Still, not wanting to say the wrong thing, he muttered,"Well-music is subjective."

"Mind if I give it a shot?" Rylie rose to her feet. All eyes followed her as she strolled toward the piano."P'll just play a short part," she added casually.

Paola's breath hitched. Her hand shot out in reflex. "Rylie! This isn't the time or place... Please don't-"

Marcus! voice cut in before she could finish. "Let her play. She's my guest. Nothing about this is disruptive."He wasn't loud, but the way he spoke silenced the room.

He fixed his eyes on Paola's pale face for a moment, then his tone softened. "This is a free concert. I treat everyone here as friends. And among friends, we should be able to talk about music openly. That's the point,isn't it?"

That single moment broke the image Paola had worked so hard to maintain- the favorite cousin, the chosen performer.

Fiona watched with delight, muttering, "There's a clear difference in how he treats family."

Someone in the back called out, "Let's hear Miss Owen play!"

Isabella scowled. "She's been with the Kirks her whole life and never touched a piano. She's going to embarrass herself."

Fiona shook her head. "Then why would she go up there? I believe she knows what she's doing."

Rylie, dressed casually, presented a stark contrast to Paola's elegance. Yet, when the spotlight hit her, the audience was captivated by her beauty, making the men blush andtheir hearts race.

She had the Owen looks, more striking than her brothers. And compared to Paola's practiced poise, her presence felt unforced-strong in a way that didn't try too hard.

She pushed up her sleeves, her wrist delicate and bare. The audience hushed as her fingers hovered over the keys.

"This is what I think it's supposed to sound like,"she said.

Her hands began to move. The same melody filled the hall, but now it breathed.

Every note flowed effortlessly. What had been stiff under Paola's hands now soared.

Then she hit the third part. Without pausing, Rylie wove in a new phrase - smooth, seamless. What had been jagged was now whole. The shift felt like moonlight trickling over still water.

A voice rose from the back. "My goodness..." Marlon shot to his feet. "That transition was flawless! And I heard people say she didn't study piano?" he said, shaking his head in awe. "This is the kind of skill someone develops young."

Marcus looked on with pride. "When I first met her, I knew she had talent. I checked. The Kirks never gave her lessons. Everything she knows, she taught herself."

Marlon's eyes widened. "Like you? She's a born genius. The Kirks never saw what they had. Now their ignorance is on full display."

Rylie had performed the complete "Twilight Horizon." Paola's version, in comparison, had been a haphazard blend of mismatched parts.