Taming the varsity player
The first chord she struck was deep, haunting, and incredibly raw.
I felt my entire chest tighten as the melody filled the dark room. It wasn't the classical, rigid music the tutors usually played; it was an original composition, fluid and laced with a profound, aching vulnerability. As her fingers began to fly across the ivory keys, Eloise closed her eyes, her lips moving softly as she began to sing the lyrics she had written in her notebook—the ones about a varsity king who wore gold like armor but bled his knuckles in the dark just to keep her safe.