This was perhaps the most massive sensation yet-a mere introduction had already sparked an uproar.
Of course, Gabriel had exaggerated in his speech. Luther had never faced any real discrimination. As a wealthy heir, he could attend any school without encountering prejudice. If anyone faced discrimination, it would be the children from disadvantaged backgrounds who, despite their outstanding academic achievements, struggled to fit in.
Luther wasn’t one of them. As a privileged young man, he had everything at his disposal, including companions to accompany him while studying abroad. His participation in the international music festival was largely due to his father’s generous financial support. Admittedly, he had some talent, but money played a significant role in elevating that talent.
Gabriel’s overblown narrative was merely a tactic to draw applause and capture the audience’s attention. Lydia Strings’ earlier performance had been so dazzling that Gabriel needed a dramatic introduction to paint Luther as a heroic and admirable figure. Without such theatrics, Luther’s performance might have been overshadowed, and comparisons with Lydia’s brilliance would have been inevitable.
By framing Luther as an underdog who overcame adversity, Gabriel captured the audience’s emotions. With their hearts won over, they would be more receptive to Luther’s music. Perspective changes everything-the right mindset transforms how music is perceived.
Amidst the cheers and applause, Luther strolled onto the stage. His white suit was strikingly eye-catching, and just by standing there, he had already drawn countless admiring gazes.
He was still as handsome and polished as ever. Just his presence on stage was enough to captivate the audience.
Cyan, watching Luther ascend the stage, exclaimed in genuine surprise, “Mr. Falcon went through something like that? I always thought someone so talented would have a smooth journey. I can’t believe someone as incredible as him faced discrimination. It’s so unfair!”
Georgia remained silent, her eyes fixed on Luther.
Once on stage, Luther didn’t immediately begin playing. Instead, he took the microphone from Gabriel. Holding it, he said, “It’s an honor to be here with so many talented musicians. Sharing this stage with you all is a privilege.”
Humble words.
Luther wanted to project himself as not only an accomplished young man but also a modest one. Yet, his demeanor exuded an unspoken insincerity, a facade that revealed his true nature to those who looked closely.
Kayden watched quietly, taking it all in.
Luther wasn’t done speaking. With the microphone still in hand, he launched into another round of humility, praising traditional instruments and their virtues. While his words were complimentary, his manner came across as pretentious, as if he were an authority on the subject.
In his mind, having performed at an international music festival gave him the right to boast endlessly, to critique other instruments, and to carry himself with a sense of superiority. He was arrogant, self-satisfied, and dismissive of others.
“What a hypocrite!” Christina, seated next to Kayden, muttered bluntly.
Nick nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Who does he think he is? Acting like the star of the show. It’s ridiculous. How did he even make it to the music festival?”
“Exactly!”
Diomidis Stevens remained silent throughout, his calm gaze fixed on the stage. Beside him, Kayden also stayed composed, quietly observing Luther without uttering a word.
Finally, after a lengthy speech, Luther moved on to the main event.
He took a seat at the piano and began his performance. To him, this was nothing less than his personal concert.
As the piano’s melody filled the air, it initially failed to captivate the audience. Only those familiar with Luther’s playing knew the depth of his skill. Slowly, the music began to draw them in.
Luther’s composition was an emotional rollercoaster, blending joy and sorrow seamlessly. His fingers danced across the keys as if telling a vivid story-a story of life itself.
The audience sat enraptured, their emotions stirred. It was as though their own memories and feelings came alive through the music. This was exactly what Luther aimed to achieve: using music to touch hearts and evoke emotions.
Music, when it resonates deeply, has the power to move and conquer. Clearly, Luther’s performance had achieved this. The audience was spellbound, completely under the spell of his music.
While Luther relied on his family’s wealth to reach such heights, his talent was undeniable. He had an innate gift for music.
When the final note faded, the audience remained silent, still immersed in the lingering echoes of the performance.
He was remarkable. Luther had reached a level where his music could captivate and conquer its listeners.
Finally, after a prolonged moment of silence, the crowd erupted.
Thunderous applause filled the hall. If the earlier clapping had been for his supposed achievements, this was undoubtedly for his music. The sound was overwhelming, drowning out any memory of the earlier performances.
Compared to Luther’s piano piece, Lydia Strings’ performance now seemed pale and insignificant.
“Oh my God! That was the most beautiful piano piece I’ve ever heard. I’ve listened to piano music before, but nothing as moving as this. It’s perfect. It’s incredible!”
“I’m definitely enrolling my daughter in piano lessons. This instrument is simply magical!”
“My son has to learn the piano too. It’s too powerful!”
Countless voices rose, one after another. Luther had clearly won over the entire audience. Even many of the traditional instrumentalists across from him were visibly impressed by the piano’s enchanting melody.
Cyan, utterly mesmerized, shouted, “Encore! Play another one!”
The crowd followed suit, erupting into thunderous chants.
“Encore! Encore!”
The calls grew louder and louder, like a tidal wave crashing against the shore. The entire venue was in chaos, with people shouting and cheering as if possessed.
This was the power of music. This was what made music so intoxicating.
Listening to the roaring crowd and seeing the electrified atmosphere, Luther picked up the microphone once more.
“Everyone, please calm down and let me say a few words,” he said.
Gradually, the shouts died down, and the room became quiet.
Luther spoke into the microphone. “I’m sorry, everyone, but this isn’t a concert. It’s just a sharing session, and one performance is enough. If you like my piano pieces, I’ll gladly play more for you-but that will have to be another time. For now, I’d like to say a few things to the traditional instrumentalists here.”
He finished speaking and turned his gaze directly to the traditional musicians.
His eyes were sharp, almost provocative, as though he were issuing a challenge.