Her technique was a horror show. She held the bow with a rigid, locked wrist, causing the notes to screech and grate against the ears. Her pitch was completely off, her fingers sliding carelessly across the fingerboard, missing the correct positions by a wide margin. During the transition to the second movement, her rhythm fell completely apart, leaving Leo scrambling to keep up.
He looked up at her in confusion, his small fingers fumbling as Elizabeth completely butchered the tempo, dragging the melody until it sounded like a dying animal. It was a sloppy, uncoordinated mess born entirely of vanity and a lack of real practice.
When they finally finished their piece, the applause was sparse and polite at best. Leo stomped off the stage, his face red with frustration, while Elizabeth hur
