Page 98 of The Other Side of Green

The tricks still worked. Gradually, one step at a time, the chairs disappeared, the music stands, and microphones. One step at a time it was possible to remove every element of distraction so you could play from a place of zero external noise, no matter what those around you did.

Like being a marooned on a music island.

Lyra needed this.

Running my fingers over the keys, tinkling out a light and delicate tune, like her kisses last night, I considered if her disjointed connection with her violin came from the fact that I used to ask her to play to cover the horror of what went on around us. Her music was a silencing blanket, but it fought against destruction.

What long term physiological impact would that have?

Her violin playing was linked to me, but she needed to get over that to succeed and thrive.

A slight rustle broke my focus, bringing me back to the room and I opened my eyes to find Greene watching me, nodding in appreciation. Lyra stood next to him wide-eyed.

“Beautiful, Jack. One of your own?”

My fingers stopped and I shrugged. “Just messing around.”

“You play beautifully, Mr. Cross.” Lyra’s cheeks darkened with stains of dark pink.

“Thank you, Lyra, that’s praise coming from you.” A smile played across my mouth.

“Jack is the master of the skills we are about to learn this afternoon.”

“Mmm, what’s that?” Lyra tore her gaze from me, and I smirked.

“Today we learn to play without distraction, no matter what is going on about us.”

Lyra snorted, but then quickly wiped her smile off her face. “I’m not sure I can do that; I always feel too much what the audience needs from me.”

She fiddled with the hem of her plaid.

Greene clapped his hands together, “Not to worry, that’s what practice is about. That’s why we have practical seminar sessions.”

“Sir,” I cut in. “Maybe if this is something Lyra struggles with—and you said yourself this is one of my skills—I should work with her on it.”

Lyra’s gaze burned on my face.

Greene, the idiot, nodded his head. “Mm, yes, I can see that would be of benefit. We need Lyra ready for any audience.”

“Why?” Lyra and I both asked at once, secret smiles flashing. I chewed on the inside of my cheek to dial it down a notch.

“Well, Lyra.” Greene put his leather satchel on a nearby desk. “It’s very exciting, but we’ve had national press reach out to want to interview you.”

“Me?” Lyra’s skin paled.

“Yes, of course. You’re the one everyone is talking about.”

Her skin paled. “But…”

“It will all be fine, not to worry, But it’s obvious that the unrest we had here the last few weeks will leave people interested. You’ve started a social protest, now people want to know what all the fuss was about.”

“But.” Lyra’s face crumpled. “I already told you I never wanted any of that.”

Greene smiled. “And who would?” He dropped his head to the side. “No one wants to be the focus of negative press, now it’s time to make it positive.”

“But—”

He held up his hand to hold back her argument. “Not to worry, the dean is organizing everything.”