Dinner! (End)

Hugo stood in front of the grand piano, his fingers hovering just above the glossy black keys, feeling like he had just walked into the middle of a medieval battlefield with no sword.

The entire hall was silent, the tension so thick it could probably be cut with one of those stupidly expensive silver knives the rich people here used for their overpriced steak.

Ethan was sitting beside him on the other piano bench, smirking like he had already won, like this was just some formal execution of Hugo's dignity.

The bastard was confident—too confident. And Hugo knew why.

Because Ethan was most likely a trained pianist.

Like, the kind who had spent a few years playing in high-end conservatories, the kind who probably grew up with world-class piano instructors instead of video game tutorials.

The kind of rich kid who had been forced to take music lessons before he even learned how to tie his shoes.