The Fourth on the First

Two

"Stop!" 

The cold voice suddenly interrupts the violin playing. 

"That's enough. Why don't you play me an E Major scale." 

Brett stops his bow shockingly. Despite the fact that Sensei Chen would never cut him off this abruptly and disrespectfully—he would at least listen with an unimaginable amount of patience, and then roast him, he didn't even get to finish the first bar. He didn't play any wrong notes—it was only six notes anyway, and at least he thinks himself that it wasn't some bad playing. 

He tries to look into Professor Wenuhin's eyes in seeking the reason. 

He then immediately regrets it as their gazes meet. Professor Wenuhin's gray pupils are clear, and obviously, cold. The sense of warmth on his face is fully masked by the chilliness of his eyes, the air turns cold around him. 

The eyes are like winter lakes, Brett concludes, endlessly deep and freezing. It gives the feeling that there's merely uncaring and unforgiving behind the pupils. 

Brett's mind shouts and tells him to "get out of here before it's too late", but Professor Wenuhin's glare stops him instantly from going anywhere. 

Brett licks his dried lips to offer them moisture, a strong sting on his lower lip and the taste of blood sign his dehydration—he sweated too much and didn't dare to bring water any close to this Professor Wenuhin's class. For the sake of Lingling, he's trying to prevent any chance of getting victimized other than bad playing. As for bad playing—he really doesn't have any ways to prevent it. 

He then starts playing on the D string, and realizes instantaneously as he plays the first E and F# that it is really out of tune. 

Crap, crap crap crap. 

Why does it have to go out of tune when he literally just tuned it before leaving? What the actual fugue. 

Brett knows his violin well enough—he spent five years with it. It doesn't go out of tune for merely an hour or so without playing. 

And his world has ended when he realizes he's in another city and his violin does go out of tune quickly due to the humidity and heat. 

Crap. Holy, dear crap. Screw this. Screw my pathetic life. Why did I not check it before coming in, why did I not? 

Unsurprisingly, Wenuhin the Professor of Majestic Authority once again interrupts his playing with a look of extreme dissatisfaction on his face that he was trying to conceal, yet failed badly, "Play me an open string, please."

Brett feels teased by fate. Since he's on the A string currently after four notes of the scale, he up-bows the open string and tries to watch for Professor Wenuhin's expression in the meantime. 

As the A note generates from the violin, the Professor sinks himself inside the couch, covering his face in unbearableness with his right hand. Brett pauses for a moment, surprised that his A string is actually perfectly in tune—he supposed he tuned it too sharp, then. He feels alright with this, not understanding why the Professor lies his head on the back of the couch as if his heart had stopped beating hearing him play.