Chapter 2 — The Harmony Between Us
The next morning at Lyric Academy, the campus was alive with chatter. Posters for the annual Winter Duet Competition lined the hallways — a big event where the best pairs performed together in front of the entire school.
Eris clutched his schedule nervously. His first official class: Advanced Ensemble. He walked in quietly, the smell of polished wood and sheet music filling the air.
"Alright, class," said Professor Reva, her sharp eyes scanning the room. "This year, we'll choose duet partners by random draw. Your chemistry matters more than your name."
Eris swallowed. Chemistry. He barely knew anyone.
One by one, names were drawn from the glass bowl.
Until—
"Ren Evander…"
The room murmured. Ren, the piano prodigy, sat casually near the window, his gaze unreadable.
"And your partner will be…"
Professor Reva pulled the next card. "Eris Lian."
Silence.
Eris froze, his mind echoing with disbelief. He could feel the stares from the others — the new boy paired with him?
Ren turned his head, eyes meeting Eris's from across the room. For a second, something unreadable flickered there — surprise? amusement?
When class ended, Ren approached, hands in pockets.
"So, violin boy," he said lightly, voice half-teasing. "Looks like fate's got a sense of humor."
Eris tried to smile but ended up blushing instead. "I—I hope I don't slow you down."
Ren chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Music isn't about speed. It's about… connection."
He leaned closer, eyes glinting. "Can you play with feeling?"
Eris hesitated, gripping his violin case. "I'll try."
Ren smiled. "Good. Then meet me in the old recital hall after class. Let's see if our sounds can find each other."
That afternoon, they did.
The moment Eris's bow met the strings, and Ren's fingers touched the piano keys — something clicked.
The melody rose between them, not perfect, but alive.
Ren looked up mid-song, eyes locked on Eris, and for a heartbeat… both forgot the notes.
They just listened.
To the air trembling between them.
To the sound of something new being born.
To the first harmony that felt like fate.
— Philip A. Marcelino