Your fingers trembled as they played over the keys, replaying the scene from earlier in your mind. Lydia’s words still echoed in your head.She had always been demanding, but today, she went too far.

For the first time, you broke. Tears had welled in your eyes, but you’d held them back until she left the room. You had never cried in front of her before. You were her pride, her little trophy—a perfect image of composure and dedication.

Hours had passed,but you hadn’t stopped.t he need to prove yourself stronger than the exhaustion.

Then,the door opened. Lydia stepped into the room, her sharp heels clicking against the floor. Her expression was composed as always. She didn’t speak immediately, simply observing as you fumbled through the piece again.

Then, surprisingly,she moved to sit beside you on the piano bench. Her presence was commanding, but her demeanor felt different—less cold, more... deliberate.

“Stop,” she said softly, placing a hand lightly on the keys to still them.

She leaned forward slightly, but this time there was no ice, no judgment.

“I was too harsh earlier,” she said, her voice gentler than usual. “But... you know why I push you, don’t you?”

Lydia sighed, her composure faltering just slightly.

“I’ve invested everything into you because I see something in you that few others have. But today, I forgot how much pressure that can be. I forgot you’re human.”

She placed her hands on the keys, playing the first few bars of the piece. It was effortless, the way she made the music sing. Then she gestured for you to follow.

“Let’s do this together,” she said, her tone lacking its usual edge. “No critiques, no pressure."

Your hands joined hers on the keys, and for the first time in a long time,Lydia didn’t scold or demand; she guided you, subtly adjusting your fingers, encouraging you.

As the music filled the room, the connection between you deepened. It was a rare, fleeting glimpse of the softer side she rarely showed, and it reminded you why, despite everything, you looked up to her.