Chapter 1432

Things have changed dramatically since Andrew collapsed.

Andrew was expelled from the college because he beat his teacher. He gave up the drum and began to look for the direction of life; Andrew's father sued Fletcher on the board of directors through his own power and contacts. Andrew became an anonymous witness and eventually forced Fletcher to be expelled.

By accident, Andrew meets Fletcher in a jazz bar. When discussing the recent situation, Fletcher mentioned that he was "expelled". Because it was an anonymous report, Fletcher didn't know who it was, and Andrew pretended not to know. For the first time, they had a quiet conversation.

Before saying goodbye, Fletcher said that he is now the conductor of a jazz band, which is about to make an opening performance for the Jazz Festival at Carnegie Hall——

Carnegie Hall, the most top and most noble stage in the industry, is the top stage that every musician and artist dreams of. After stepping on this stage and performing successfully, he will step up to the sky, become a star in the industry, and even start his own career as an artist; But the Drummers of this band are still a little inferior. Fletcher gives Andrew time to think about it and hopes that he can join them.

The repertoire is "whipping" and "Caravan".

Andrew's in the mood.

So Andrew found his drum again, began to practice basic skills again, began to play "whipping" and "Caravan" again, and challenged 400 strokes again.

Sitting on the stage in Carnegie Hall, Andrew was nervous. The nightmare seemed to attack again, and the wound and calluses in the palm were not enough to make up for the inner confusion. His forearm and palm began to tremble uncontrollably. He knew it was too weak, but he could not control himself.

Looking up and glancing at the "whipping" score, the painful and dark memories surged again, forcing Andrew to take a deep breath, take a deep breath again, and force himself to calm down. Then Fletcher came on.

When Fletcher did not rush to the podium, he stopped in front of Andrew.

Andrew's mood relaxed a little bit, trying to outline a shallow smile, raised his head to meet Fletcher's eyes, but the stiffness and tension of his mouth still revealed his deep anxiety. He leaned forward slightly, thinking that Fletcher had something special to explain to himself.

"Do you think I'm a fool?" Fletcher's endless words stunned Andrew a little. He didn't understand where the words came from.

"What?" Andrew's face was slightly stiff, his brow slightly frowned, and asked in bewilderment.

Fletcher quietly looked at Andrew, not too much ups and downs of expression, but the condescending perspective has a sense of dignity, is still a word without context, "I know it's you."

That pair of eyes cold and indifferent, even without waves also revealed a bloodthirsty brutality, as if watching a corpse. Fletcher's mouth gently pulled, not a smile, not murderous, but the piercing cold is unreservedly released, instantly let Andrew fall into the ice.

He knows.

Fletcher knows.

Fletcher knew it was his own whistle blowing that caused him to lose his job. So today? Today is a trap, a sweet trap.

Carnegie Hall is known as the highest stage in the industry because of its high-end performance and professional audience. Only the top performers can appear here, only the best musicians can appear on the stage, and only the best audience can taste the difference.

Everyone knows that if you give a wonderful performance here, you will become famous in the first World War, and formally confirm your position in the industry. From then on, you will embark on a healthy road and start your career. This honor and praise is unparalleled.

But it's easy for everyone to overlook that if you mess up a top professional performance here, it will be a long-lasting scandal. Even the most subtle and simple mistake will flash by, and the audience here will be able to catch it keenly, and then it will become a label accompanying the musician's whole career.

This is Fletcher's trap.

Because Fletcher is sure and certain: Andrew can't finish the 400 strokes of "Caravan", even the shadow of "whipping" may not pass.

So Fletcher made an invitation: he wanted to destroy Andrew's career, completely.

If the performance of Carnegie Hall is messed up, Fletcher, who is over 50 years old, will not have any influence, let alone being expelled from the college has affected his career; But for Andrew, who is only 19 years old, he can basically say goodbye to the jazz band. Even if Fletcher's professional reputation will be further damaged, Fletcher is willing to choose the way to die with Andrew.

In short, Fletcher is going to destroy Andrew.

"I know it's you." This is Fletcher's only words, that cold to no temperature eyes, light to fall on Andrew's body, and then all the cruel memories rush on.

As he watched Fletcher walk to the front of the stage, Andrew began to tremble a little. The fear from the bottom of his soul made his muscles tense. He raised his head slightly and looked at Fletcher's bald head. The threat and oppression from up to down almost made Andrew gasp.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. It's a great honor to open the JVC Music Festival. I'm Terrance Fletcher. These are the best musicians in New York, the best musicians in the world. We'll play some traditional music, but before that, We're going to start with a new Tim simonec song called "up swing."

Andrew was stiff in the same place, and his restlessness could not be calmed down. With the advancement of Fletcher's words, his restlessness suddenly froze, and he looked at Fletcher with round eyes

"Up? What's going on? "

He was completely unannounced.

Then I saw Fletcher turn his head, and the curve of his mouth rose slightly again. It was still not a smile, but a bloody sharp, completely cutting Andrew's last straw——

Andrew flipped his music stand, "whipping" and "Caravan", that's all; If you look at the other members of the band calmly and calmly looking through the music score, everyone has a "shake up". When andreton was flustered, he was so flustered that he didn't even have time to observe Fletcher's expression and manner

The calm, elated and confident posture, like a cat catching a mouse, pressed the mouse to death under its claws, but did not rush to end its life, but repeatedly played with it, because the cat firmly believed that the mouse could not escape from its own hands.

At this moment, he is in charge of his life and death.

But Andrew didn't have time to observe. The fear, the panic and the inferiority all swarmed up and choked his throat: run, run, run, that's the only idea in his mind.

Andrew tried to stand up, but his knees were softening. He staggered back half a step and almost fell down. But it was too late for him because Fletcher didn't give him a chance at all: the play began.

The show started, and now we run away, and the ending is the same. This is a trap without any loopholes.

Andrew forced himself to sit down, grabbed the drumstick with both hands, and looked left and right, but his vision was empty and at a loss. He had never heard of this piece - because it was the latest creation, let alone practice. Now there is no score, how can he play it?

Deep in my eyes is a piece of ashes, almost desperate ashes.

But Andrew still forced himself to join in the performance, trying to integrate into everyone with some basic drums.

However, his drumming was like a disaster, which completely destroyed the performance of all his teammates. It was not the rhythm and melody of a system at all, which made him become timid and hesitant. He hesitated whether he should continue to fight or give up, just when he was ready to surrender——

It's time to join the drums.

The cellist standing next to him said sadly, "please! play! Play it

It's also an important opportunity for other members of the band to perform. Although they haven't made any mistakes, how many opportunities are there for Carnegie Hall? If you miss this time, when will you have to wait?

Andrew can only grit his teeth and continue to play, but... It's a disaster. It's a disaster. Andrew's performance and the band's performance are two things. Even the amateur audience can hear the incompatibility.

At last, Fletcher folded his hands and finished playing. Andrew's drumming, which was not amateur, continued. He stopped in a panic and then dropped his head deeply. Shame and shame had completely destroyed his last defense line.

There was a moment of hesitation in Carnegie Hall, and scattered applause came to mind, which was even more humiliating than silence.

Fletcher came up to Andrew and whispered, "I guess you just don't have that talent."

Andrew was staring at the audience in front of him. The light in his pupils was crushed little by little, even worse than despair. He was dazed and stunned, scared and bitter. Through the Milky halo, he could only see the audience who tried their best to suppress their shame.

At the bottom of my eyes, the cold tears came up little by little, as if I could see that the soul was fading away little by little, and finally turned into a dead silence.