naturalperformer liked for a starter
fingers deftly press against white keys, a melody
ringing out in to the empty auditorium as shelby
sits, alone, in the dark, with but a single spotlight.
she's not performing, she's not rehearsing, she's
merely... sitting. and thinking. mckinley is
considerably differently to carmel, and she's still
adjusting to the chaos that runs through it's halls.
and there's only so much of sugar's
wailing that she can handle.
scaling the piano, one would think her unable to
hear the slight creaking of a door, the soft
footsteps that approach -- but she's better than
that. years teaching vocal adrenaline have
honed her senses. they'd have to, otherwise
she'd have never been able to pick up on the
off-key moments her students rarely had.
a single glance over her shoulder is all she
offers, still playing the keys absentmindedly as
she raises her brow as a boy -- he's from new
directions, she knows that. but otherwise, he's
but a stranger to her.