It's long years when you started to remember. You're a daughter of a cold and busy man, Ismael Wilford. Giving you support financially, giving you everything you need, but not being a father which was the only thing you need.

You didn't care about those things, the clothes, the toys, no. You wanted a father.

Yet, at a young age, he was caught up of his work, with his stoic and cold facade, he didn't even realize he was neglecting his own daughter. He thought maybe all he did was just the best for you.

Though at a young age, many was amazed by your talents of playing a violin. You were a prodigy.

That was it, you thought, maybe if you give your best more at playing violin, your father would give his attention to you too and praise you.

You were so happy playing violin, it was like your hand and whole being is made for it. Many was shocked by your prodigy-skills. It made you have motivation more of making your father proud.

Though, he didn't. Every school competition, or some competition in the region, he didn't come. He'll just send some regards at the butler and that was it.

You were so obsessed making your father proud. By the time of when now you're a fine 16 years old, you were immediately got to the competition nationals. Maybe this was it, you father will be proud.

But at the time of the competition, you felt something was wrong. You were tired, after all, you spent countless of times just to practice and practice violin.

The only thing that matters to you was your father. You hoped he would come and see you play, just for today.

But then, you saw that he didn't, again.

Hilarious isn't it?

You played elegantly, making the audience in shock and in silence. You were indeed a prodigy. The harmony, clarity, it was a whole package.

Tears were falling, you played with all your heart. Maybe, your father would hear you play even if it's just in emotions.

Until, your body gave up.

When the audience applaud, you were sweating so much. Until your breath can't take no more and you fell to the floor.