Chapter 13: Crescendo of Deceit
1287 Words
The corridors of the Royal College of Music hummed with the promise of spring recitals and summer showcases. Elara moved through them with renewed confidence—her locket warm against her chest, Finn’s encouragement on her lips, Leo’s quiet pride in her eyes. But beneath the blossoming friendships and shared melodies, a darker harmony was swelling.
A Glimmer of Jealousy
It began subtly. Emily’s polite smiles grew thinner when she saw Leo and Elara laughing in the practice rooms. Her congratulatory “Well done” after Elara’s lunchtime recital carried an edge that didn’t reach her eyes. At masterclasses, she would linger near Leo, offering her own glossy sheet music or “helpful” critiques of Elara’s phrasing.
One evening, Elara arrived at their duet rehearsal in Practice Room 12 to find Emily already there, seated at the bench with Leo’s music folder open between them.
“Emily?” Elara said, unease prickling her skin.
Emily turned, lips curving in a practiced smile. “I thought I’d help Leo get through the new arrangement.” She slid the folder closed. “Right, Leo?”
Leo looked between them, brow furrowed. “Actually, Elara and I practice here every Tuesday. Why don’t we...?”
Emily tilted her head. “I just wanted to surprise you both.” She rose, gathering Leo’s sheet music into her arms. “Good luck, you two.” And walked away.
Elara’s heart thudded. Leo gave her a quick, apologetic glance before turning back to their piano. The bench felt suddenly small.
The Trap Is Set
Emily’s jealousy bred cunning. She knew Elara’s new composition, “Shadows and Light,” was under consideration for a departmental award. She also knew the prized spot in Maestro Dawkins’s end-of-term showcase was coveted by all second-year students.
On a rainy Thursday, Emily invited Elara to lunch in the student café, ostensibly to discuss a joint project for the showcase’s finale. They sat at a corner table, Emily leaning in conspiratorially.
“I found a way we can really impress Dawkins,” Emily whispered, sliding a USB drive across the table. “Here’s an advanced orchestration I’ve been working on. Port it to four-hand piano—your expertise—and I’ll handle the digital score. We’ll share credit.”
Elara’s pulse quickened. Collaborating with Emily could mend fences and secure both their places. She took the drive. “Thank you. I’ll look at it tonight.”
Emily’s eyes glinted. “Perfect. Dare I say, this will be unforgettable.”
Sabotage in the Silence
That night, Elara plugged the USB into her laptop in the dorm common room. Instead of the promised orchestration, the files contained a nearly identical copy of “Shadows and Light,” with minor notational tweaks—altering key signatures, shifting rhythms, changing a few dynamics. But she saw the problem too late: the score on her desktop now overwrote her original composition.
Panicking, she searched her backups only to find the last auto-save was weeks old. The original “Shadows and Light”—the version Maestro Dawkins had praised—was gone.
She tried to recreate it but the version she played in jury was lost to memory’s fuzz. By dawn, her fingers were sore, her eyes red. Yet the showcase was in two days.
The Accusation
At lunch two days later, as students swapped music folder tips, Emily sidled up with Leo present.
“Did you get my version?” Emily asked Leo, her voice loud enough for passing classmates to hear. “Elara promised to remix it yesterday, but she’s missing in action.”
Leo frowned. “I thought she was in the library—”
Emily interrupted, voice sweet but sharp. “She canceled practice. Don’t you find that odd?”
A tremor of whispers passed through the café. Elara’s cheeks burned. She hadn’t told Leo about the overwritten file.
Before she could explain, a friend at another table waved frantically. Elara joined them, convinced it was a rehearsal call—until she saw Maestro Dawkins there, stern with arms crossed.
“Elara Morgan,” Dawkins said, voice carrying. “Please step into my office.”
Her stomach dropped.
Confrontation
Dawkins’s office was lined with scores and vinyl records of old masters. He gestured to a chair.
“I received a complaint,” he said, eyes fixed on Elara. “That the composition you submitted for the showcase is plagiarized from a fellow student’s work. Is this true?”
Elara’s mind raced. Emily’s file had overwritten hers. “Maestro—no! That score—”
Dawkins held up the USB drive Emily had given. “This is the version your partner provided. But initial analysis shows it matches another composition exactly. Plagiarism is a serious offense.”
Elara shook her head, tears welling. “It’s my piece! I wrote it—I swear!”
He leaned back, expression unreadable. “I must investigate. Until then, you’re off the showcase lineup.”
Elara felt the room spin. Leo knocked at the door, poked his head in.
“Professor, is Elara okay?” he asked.
Dawkins nodded curtly. “Inform her of the decision.”
Leo’s eyes met Elara’s—panic, guilt, helplessness all there. Elara stood, stunned, and left without a word.
Aftermath
Outside, rain pelted the courtyard. Elara stumbled to a bench, burying her face in her hands. Every whispered accusation echoed inside her skull: “plagiarism,” “traitor,” “fraud.”
She should have known something was off. But she’d trusted Emily.
The pain cut deeper than any missed chord. Not just her scholarship, but her integrity felt stolen.
Leo’s Support
Late that evening, Leo found her in the deserted practice rooms. Only the ghost of her tears remained on the piano bench.
“Elara,” he said softly. “I know what happened.”
She looked up, disbelief and relief mingling. “You do?”
He nodded, kneeling before her. “Emily confessed. She said she wanted to… keep the spotlight. I got suspicious when Dawkins called her in. She admitted she swapped the files.”
Anger and betrayal flared inside Elara. “Why would she do that?”
Leo took her hand. “Because she’s jealous. And because she thought you’d never fight back.”
Elara’s tears fell, but this time they felt purgative. Leo’s hand squeezed hers.
“I believe in you,” Leo whispered. “We’ll fix this. I’ll talk to Dawkins. You’ll explain. They’ll see the truth.”
She nodded, breath coming back. “Thank you.”
Clearing Her Name
The next morning, they marched into Dawkins’s office together. Leo laid out evidence: timestamps from Leo’s practice recordings, auto-save logs, and a witness statement from Finn, who’d seen Emily tampering with Elara’s laptop.
Professor Dawkins reviewed the documents, brow furrowed. He sighed.
“I’m sorry, Elara. Clearly, you’ve been wronged. We will restore your place in the showcase, and disciplinary measures against Ms. Wu will follow.”
Relief flooded Elara’s chest. “Thank you.”
Dawkins nodded gravely. “Music demands integrity. You have mine.”
A New Resolve
That afternoon, Elara returned to the piano in Practice Room 3. Leo sat beside her, sheet music open.
“Ready to reclaim your piece?” he asked.
She placed her fingers on the keys, thinking of every obstacle, every betrayal that had sharpened her resolve.
“Ready,” she said.
They began to play, the notes rising triumphant. The chords no longer trembled with uncertainty but surged with newfound power.
As their four hands danced across the keyboard, Elara realized that true harmony required trust, courage, and sometimes fighting for your own voice.
And she was louder, clearer, and more unbreakable than ever.
- Writer
