After Andrew's collapse, things have changed dramatically.
Andrew was expelled from the academy for beating his teacher. He gave up playing drums completely and started to find a new direction in life; Andrew's father, through his own power and connections, sued Fletcher to the academy board, and Andrew became an anonymous witness, which eventually forced Fletcher was also fired.
By accident, Andrew meets Fletcher at a jazz bar. When discussing the current situation, Fletcher mentioned that he was "fired". Because it was an anonymous report, Fletcher didn't know who it was, and Andrew also pretended not to know. For the first time, the two started calmly. chat.
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Before saying goodbye, Fletcher said he was now the conductor of a jazz band that was about to open the festival at Carnegie Hall—
Carnegie Hall, the top and most noble in the industry, is the top stage that every musician and artist dreams of. After stepping on this stage, if the performance is successful, then you will step up to the sky and become a celebrity in the industry, or even create your own artist. career; but the band's drummers were barely there, and Fletcher gave Andrew time to think about it, hoping he could join them.
The repertoire is "Whiplash" and "Caravan".
Andrew was moved.
So, Andrew found his own drum set again, started to practice basic skills again, started to play "Whiplash" and "Caravan" again, and challenged 400 strikes again.
On the stage actually sitting at Carnegie Hall, Andrew was nervous. The nightmare seems to be coming again, lingering, the wounds and calluses on the palm are not enough to make up for the panic in the heart, and the forearm and palm start to tremble uncontrollably. He knows that this is too useless, but he has no way to control it. Own.
Lifting his eyes and glancing at the score of "Whiplash", those painful and dark memories surged again, which forced Andrew to take a deep breath, take another deep breath, and forcefully calm himself down. Then, Fletcher came on.
When Fletcher did not rush to the podium, his footsteps stopped in front of Andrew.
Andrew's mood relaxed a little, he tried his best to outline a shallow smile, raised his head to meet Fletcher's sight, but the stiffness and tightness of the corners of his mouth still revealed the anxiety in his heart, his upper body leaned forward slightly , and thought that Fletcher had something special to explain to himself.
"Do you think I'm /stupid/fucking/?" Fletcher's endless sentence made Andrew slightly stunned, and he didn't understand where this sentence came from.
"What?" Andrew's facial expression was a little stiff, his eyebrows frowned slightly, and he asked in confusion.
Fletcher stared at Andrew quietly, his expression did not fluctuate too much, but the condescending perspective had a majesty, still a sentence without context, "I know it's you."
Those eyes were cold and indifferent, even if there were no waves, they revealed a bloodthirsty brutality, as if they were watching a corpse. The corner of Fletcher's mouth twitched lightly, not smiling or murderous, but the biting cold was released unreservedly, causing Andrew to fall into the ice cellar in an instant.
he knows.
Fletcher knew.
Fletcher knew it was his whistleblower that cost him his job. So today? Today is a trap, a sweet trap.
The reason why Carnegie Hall is known as the highest stage in the industry lies in the high-end performance and the professionalism of the audience. Only the top performances can appear here, and only the best musicians can appear on the stage. Similarly Only the best viewers can taste the difference.
Everyone knows that if you put on a wonderful performance here, you will become famous in the first battle, rise to the sky in one step, and officially confirm your position in the industry. From then on, you will embark on a prosperous road and start your own career. Glory and praise are unparalleled.
But it is easy for everyone to ignore it. If you screw up a top professional performance here, then it will be remembered for thousands of years. Even the most subtle and simple mistakes will pass by in a flash, and the audience here will be able to keenly capture it. , and will then become a label that accompanies the musician throughout his career.
This is Fletcher's trap.
Because Fletcher was certain and certain: Andrew could not complete the four hundred blows of the "Caravan", and even the shadow of "Whipping" might not be able to pass.
So Fletcher issued an invitation: He was going to destroy Andrew's career, completely.
If the performance at Carnegie Hall is screwed up, it will have no effect on Fletcher, who is over fifty years old, not to mention being expelled from the academy has affected his career; but for Andrew, who is only nineteen years old, He can basically say goodbye to the jazz band completely. Even if Fletcher's professional reputation will be further damaged, Fletcher is willing to choose the way to die with Andrew.
Simply put, Fletcher wants to destroy Andrew.
"I know it's you." This was Fletcher's only sentence, those eyes that were so cold that there was no temperature, fell lightly on Andrew's body, and then all the cruel memories rushed up.
Watching Fletcher's back walking towards the front of the stage, Andrew began to tremble slightly uncontrollably. The fear from the depths of his soul tightened his muscles. He raised his head slightly and stared intently at Fletcher's That bald head, the intimidation and oppression that rolled down from top to bottom made Andrew almost breathless.
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, it's an honor to open the JVC Music Festival, my name is Terracher, these are the best musicians in New York, and the best music in the world At home, we'll play some traditional pieces, but before that we'll start with a brand new piece by Tim-Simonec called 'Upswinging'."
Andrew's whole body froze in place, and his restless emotions could not be calmed down at all. With the advancement of Fletcher's words, the sense of restlessness suddenly froze. He stared at Fletcher with round eyes and looked at Fletcher incredulously:
"Shake up? Shake up what?"
He was completely unannounced.
Then I saw Fletcher turn his head, and the curvature of the corner of his mouth rose slightly again, still not a smile, but a sharpness with a bloody aura, which completely cut Andrew's last life-saving straw—
Andrew flipped through his music stand, "Whiplash" and "Caravan" and that was all; looking at the other band members calmly flipping through the sheet music, everyone had a copy of "Shake Up", and Andrew immediately Panicked, panicked to the extreme, he didn't even have time to observe Fletcher's expression and demeanor:
That calm, smug, confident gesture, like a cat catching a mouse, held the mouse under its paws, but was not in a hurry to end its life, but played with it over and over again, because The cat firmly believed that the mouse could not escape from the palm of his hand.
At this moment, he holds the power of his life and death.
But Andrew didn't have time to observe. Those fears, panics, and inferiority all swarmed up and choked him tightly: escape, escape, escape, this was the only thought in his mind.
Andrew tried to get up, but his knees were weakening, and he stumbled back half a step, almost falling, but he was too late because Fletcher never gave him a chance: the performance began.
The show has started, and now it's gone, and the ending is the same. This is a trap without any loopholes.
Andrew forced himself to sit down, grabbed the drumsticks with both hands, and looked left and right, but his eyes were empty and blank. He had never heard of this song—because it was the latest creation, Not to mention practice, and now there is no sheet music, how can he play it
In the depths of his eyes was a dead gray, almost desperate.
But Andrew forced himself to join the performance, trying to blend in with some basic drumming.
However, his drum beat was like a disaster, completely destroying the performance of all his teammates. It was not the rhythm and melody of a system at all, which made him timid and hesitant, hesitating whether he should continue to beat or should he simply Give up, just as he prepares to disarm and surrender—
The time has come to join the drum beat.
The cellist standing nearby said gloomily, "Please! Play! Play!"
It's also a big opportunity for the rest of the band, and while they didn't go wrong, how much of a gig at Carnegie Hall? If you miss this time, when will you wait
Andrew could only grit his teeth and continue to play, but... This is a disaster, a total disaster, Andrew's performance and the band's performance are two completely different things, even an amateur audience can hear the incompatibility.
Finally, Fletcher folded his hands, the performance was over, and Andrew's drum beat, which was not even an amateur level, continued, he stopped in a panic, and then lowered his head deeply, deeply, Shame and shame had completely destroyed his last line of defense.
There was a moment of hesitation in Carnegie Hall, and scattered applause, which was even more shameful than silence.
Fletcher came to Andrew and whispered, "I guess, you just don't have such talent."
Andrew stared blankly in front of him, the light in the depths of his pupils was crushed little by little, even more embarrassing and worse than despair, staring at the audience in front of him with dazed, dazed, fearful and bitterness. That creamy yellow halo could only see viewers who tried their best to suppress their shameful expressions.
Deep in the bottom of his eyes, cold tears were pouring out little by little, as if you could see the soul is in the process of fading its color little by little, and finally turned into a dead silence.