NovelsFreeChapter 1054: Something was off. The melody... it was too familiar. What started as vague déjà vu soon settled into certainty. Carrie's composition mirrored Aliza's earlier performance-too closely.
The phrasing, the rhythm, even the subtle harmonic turns bore a startling resemblance. At least seventy percent, if not more. Yes, Carrie's execution was more polished, more technically controlled. But Aliza had played first. To the audience, that made all the difference.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIn their eyes, Aliza had introduced the style. Carrie's performance, though beautiful, now carried the heavy shadow of imitation. And imitation, no matter how refined, could not steal the crown from originality.
The judges exchanged glances. Silent, but telling. One shook his head ever so slightly; another let out a slow breath.
They made no move to interrupt—not because of Luca Morrison's influence as president of the Music Association, and certainly not to favor his family—but out of respect for the art itself. They would listen to the piece in full. The music deserved that much.
Despite Luca's status, the Association's judgments remained public, subject to scrutiny. The Morrison ncarried weight, but not enough to smother the integrity of the process.
If it did, Arion—who stood among the competitors—would not still be just another student. Meanwhile, Carrie remained in her world of notes and keys, unaware of the silent storm brewing in the room. Her fingers glided, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. To her, the performance was flawless. Then, silence. Half a second passed. Then Arion clapped once, sharply, breaking the stillness. A smattering of applause followed-scattered, hesitant, and far from enthusiastic. The clapping felt obligatory. Thin smiles masked the unease rippling across the crowd. Whispers followed in its wake, low and buzzing like bees around an open jar. Explore captivating tales at galnov☐☐s.☐☐ In the back row, Aliza exhaled quietly and leaned back, a wisp of a smile curling on her lips. Satisfaction tempered with relief.
She had worried. Worried that the Morrison nmight tilt the balance, that the audience might gloss over the obvious out of reverence or fear. But she had underestimated the audience's pride in their artistry. These were musicians, composers-people who held music sacred. Plagiarism, to them, was not a minor sin. It was a stain. And she knew-should anything go awry-she still had her reserves. Her hidden cards.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmAt the piano, Carrie's smile had faded. A knot tightened in her stomach. The applause was tepid. Polite, at best. She had played beautifully-she knew that. Perhaps not awe-inspiring, but solid. Balanced. It should not have been this cold.
Her gaze swept across the hall, searching for clues. Then she caught it-someone had murmured Aliza's name. And Randell's. A cold thread of suspicion curled in her chest.
Had they performed something similar? Was that the reason?
Before she could piece it together, the judges looked up from their score dup sheets. Their pens had not moved. One of them cleared his throat.
"Carrie," he said, voice firm but not unkind, "did you compose this pièce independently? Another followed, eyes steady.
"Did you reference or borrow from anyone else?" The content is on novelenglish.net!
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