Amy and Samantha turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. A young woman stood hesitantly in the doorway, her gaze flickering around the room.

Amy stepped forward with a warm smile. "Welcome to Celestial Melodies. Are you here for the audition?"

The woman nodded, her fingers twisting nervously in front of her.

"My name is Isabella Whitmore. I'm applying for the pianist position."

She handed Amy a meticulously prepared resume.

Amy skimmed through it, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Isabella wasn’t just a pianist—she was an accomplished violinist as well. Her credentials were impressive: Grade 10 certification, multiple international competition wins, some of them highly prestigious.

Amy nodded approvingly. "Would you mind playing something for us now?"

Isabella swallowed but nodded, moving toward the grand piano. She adjusted the bench, tested a few keys, then began to play.

Her technique was flawless, her fingers dancing effortlessly across the keys. Every note was precise, every movement controlled.

Then—

A single wrong note.

In an audition, one mistake wasn’t catastrophic if the performer recovered smoothly. But Isabella froze. The music stuttered to a halt, a discordant note hanging in the air.

Her face paled. "I—I'm sorry. I messed up."

Her voice trembled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Amy studied her for a moment before speaking softly. "It’s just one note. Try again."

With a deep breath, Isabella returned to the piano. This time, her performance was breathtaking—confident, expressive, nearly perfect.

Samantha clapped. "Miss Whitmore, your skill is remarkable. Why do you doubt yourself?"

It was clear now—Isabella’s issue wasn’t talent. It was confidence.

Isabella ducked her head, cheeks flushing. "I haven’t played professionally in five years. I left the music world for too long… I’m afraid I’ll never be as good as I was."

"Five years?" Amy echoed, surprised. "If you don’t mind me asking, why did you stop?"

Isabella’s lashes fluttered like fragile wings. "My boyfriend was in an accident. He lost his sight. I spent all my time caring for him."

Amy and Samantha exchanged a glance.

Samantha hesitated. "Miss Whitmore, we’re truly sorry for what you both endured. But this industry requires travel, performances. If he still needs you—"

Isabella shook her head quickly. "No, you misunderstand. He regained his sight three years ago. I just… couldn’t bring myself to leave him. But now—"

She lifted her chin, determination flashing in her eyes. "If you hire me, I won’t quit. I won’t let you down."

Samantha frowned. "But what if he needs you again? Would you leave? Stability is crucial in this business."

Isabella’s voice turned firm. "I won’t. We broke up."

A stunned silence followed.

Isabella exhaled shakily. "You don’t have to worry. I won’t go back to him. We were together for five years, but recently, I found out he reconnected with the woman he always idolized."

A bitter smile touched her lips.

"I always knew he never forgot her. She was his first love—the one he could never have."