Love Began with the First Meeting
Chapter 178 The Awesome Concerto of Sonata Pathétique (Part Two)
Thinking of that, the grief in Harrow's eyes became more severe and apparent. Being greatly tortured by the hatred coming from Spark, he could hardly contain the trembling grief in his heart.
He had wanted to see Spark so much more before. But now, when he really managed to see him and his performance, it turned out that he was still so incredibly upset.
It's within instants that the thoughts were swaying among the audience's mind while the two on the stage were simply ignoring them as they would soon have a collision in their concerto...
Wing was not as nervous as she had thought she would be. Spark just arrived backstage 20 minutes ago. But before his arrival, Weston was scared of untoward accident, so he repeatedly called Spark. However, all his calls were automatically transferred to the voicemail. He was not afraid that the outsiders would say that the presence of Spark was just a sham. Instead, he was worried that Wing would be unhappy and disappointed. Just when Weston became extremely anxious, Spark and his agent, Manny, finally showed up at the venue. Spark didn't tell Wing their cooperative melody until the moment she finished her solo. performance.
After hearing about their cooperative melody, Wing sat behind the piano in a casual manner which matched Spark's composition... She took one quick glance at Spark. Then, she calmed herself down and began to play the piano so naturally. Just when the exciting notes began flowing out quickly from her fingertips, which, to the surprise of the audience, was Beethoven's "Sonata Pathétique", the sound of Spark's violin already merged in a synchronized manner. Both were masters of music. While Wing was playing fast on the black and white keys, Spark was unruly flipping the bow, with his left hand gliding quickly on the strings. Their cooperation was so perfect that the audience would not believe that it was their first cooperation. It seemed like they had performed together harmoniously a thousand times before.
was shocking, like a hammer hitting sometimes gently and sometimes heavily in the heart of every audience, tugging at their feelings. Such stimulation made every audience stare closely at the duo on the stage, as if, at this moment, what they saw was not only the duo who were manipulating music, but also the duo immersing themselves in the ocean of joy, yearning for freedom, and more as if they were two broken-winged angels, struggling with fate as they were mourning, with such yearning for freedom but
landed naturally on the keys, she also heard Spark's penetrating notes intensifying their collaboration. Then, she got confused whether she was immersed in her own melody or was being pulled into Spark's charming melody. But it also seemed as if the both were mocking and expressing each other's helplessness and the pain
crystal like tears began falling from Wing's closed eyes. At the same moment, even Spark's eyes under his glasses cast a touch of sorrow that could not be waved away. He frowned slightly, and just then, a thin layer of mist appeared in his eyes. As he continued to pull the bow along with Wing's rapid notes, a scene that he would never
on the stage, he was afraid to
strings. Each movement embodied his
expression owing to darkness. At that moment, his eyes were filled with unutterable sadness, which if were not covered by the shades, he was afraid he would be completely left bare and transparent.
facial expression, she felt the pinching pain, and so was Spark. At the moment, both of them were drawn into a whirlpool created by their music, from which there seemed to be no way out, but they were still being pulled into it pleasantly, as if they were competing with each other, appreciating each other, and also sympathizing with each other. The melody then continued in such a way until it finished all of
she kept her eyes closed with tears flowing through her eyes, just thinking of
his last note, his hand holding the bow paused in the air almost controlling the urge to play further. Then, the hand dropped slowly from mid air unwillingly as if anchored down by a heavy object against his will, until it feebly fell on the side of his body with the tip of the bow pointing