Chapter 673:
It radiated brilliance, standing in absolute opposition to the slander swirling beyond these walls.
While Kyla was absorbed in the details, Rylie stooped to pick up a handful of discarded sketches from the bin. Her eyes drifted across the instruments scattered about—the guitars, the electronic keyboards—and the truth was plain: Kyla lived and breathed music.
Rylie’s gaze lingered on the doodled pages before drifting to the keyboard in the corner. She pointed toward it and asked evenly, “Would you mind if I used that?”
Kyla lifted her eyes, curiosity edging into her expression. “You’re saying you want to play?”
“I might be able to offer a few improvements.”
“Improvements?” Kyla arched a brow, then motioned toward the instrument. “The switch is down by your foot. You can give it a try, but don’t mess with the preset tones or rhythms.”
Rylie pushed to her feet and crossed the RV with quiet confidence. The sketches she had glanced at earlier remained fresh in her mind, and as her hands hovered over the keys, she began shaping them into something new.
She stood before the keyboard for about a minute, and Kyla thought she was just joking. “Rylie, why don’t you try the guitar instead?”
As Kyla’s voice trailed away, Rylie let her fingers fall onto the keys, disregarding the warning and adjusting the settings at will. Kyla’s brows knit, her mouth parting as if to stop her, but then a stream of rich, flowing sound filled the room. Rylie hadn’t dismantled the original entirely; instead, with instinctive precision, she drew the scattered fragments from the…
She drew the drafts together and shaped them into coherence. Flat stretches brightened, clumsy shifts melted into fluid connections, and with a few well-placed notes the piece pulsed with its true spirit.
Kyla’s eyes locked on the instrument, her thoughts swept into the music until she whispered under her breath, “This is it. This is the voice I’ve been chasing.”
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When the final tone dissolved, Rylie lifted her hands and looked straight at her. Her words were steady. “Your direction is right, but the weight of it has been tangled. Trim away the excess, and it will stand whole.”
She returned to the table, settled into her seat, and lifted her glass for a calm sip of milk. “I recorded the passage I played on your keyboard. You can refine the whole composition along that line.”
The lighthearted ease that had lingered on Kyla’s face dissolved. Her eyes drifted toward Brad, wide and unblinking. “Your girlfriend is a musician? And you never said a word?”
Brad’s reply carried a quiet pride. “You never asked.”
Only then did Kyla grasp how gravely she had misjudged Rylie. The girl’s musical instinct was astounding. With nothing more than a glance at abandoned sketches, she could catch the flaws, reshape them, and lift the work to an entirely higher level. This was a musical genius. A true genius.
Sliding her chair closer, Kyla motioned for Rylie to take the seat while she settled onto a lower stool, her eyes carrying a newfound respect. “What you just did turned my draft into a masterpiece. Tell me, would you be open to mentoring someone?”
Kyla’s attitude had shifted drastically.
.
.
.