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Kindle Edition
First published September 18, 2015
'Something remains in the silence after a performance.
It echoes between the seats, winding through aisles and rows, whispering as it returns to the front of the hall.
The stage remembers.
Its polished floor pulses with the heartbeat of every musician who has crossed it and holds within its infinite memory that which murmurs endlessly in silence.
Power.
The same power pulsating in the thick blood now flowing across the pale wood and pooling around the podium. This sacred ground siphons away an artist's life, ingesting ambition and arrogance, and devouring countless dreams of immortality so that it can satiate a voracious audience.
The stage demands to be fed.
When you step on it, you become the willing sacrifice.'
'Leila retreated to the piano, hands trembling at the life spinning out of their control. She pushed the metronome, the precise tick reminding her of measures and boundaries.
Now that Orion was gone, the frantic presto pulse no longer seemed right. She adjusted the speed, reducing it to an ominous adagio that boomed like thunder in her chest.'
'People wanted to see her triumph over grief and become the bloodied gladiator standing alone in the arena. The stage demanded a moving display of grit and tenacity, a story about an inspiring comeback despite tragic suffering.
Leila was now the headliner in a performance selling the American Dream.
The only way to extinguish the sordidness of murder was with a spectacular performance that would be remembered for the ages, a concert that would become an immortal part of her legacy.'

"It was the lie of the American Dream -work hard and you'll win, that poisonous mantra poured down the throat of every child, every teacher, every adult who wondered why they were still stuck in the same place after forty years of overtime, with nothing to show but bone-weary exhaustion, shitty health, and a pile of bills."
“Fast food, fast money, shallow thinking, shallow interpretations. This is now what I deal with everyday. Art was meant to be about freedom, about having the courage to explore what it means to be human.”
"The lush opening unfurled, narrating an epic saga of passion and yearning. Rene's tempo was moderate, not he grand slow pomposity Carlo favoured or the passionate drive Leila wanted. it was safe, an acceptable and pleasing interpretation that wouldn't ruffle anyone's feathers. It was also terrible, as bland and forgettable as the new music scores she'd dismissed."