It was as though her brain, limited in capacity, was suddenly besieged by an overwhelming barrage of information, struggling to digest it all!

“Is it even conceivable for a music score to be this intricate? No one could possibly play this!"

Clare had only managed to sift through the initial portion of the dense manuscript.

"Ahem!" echoed a deliberate cough.

Out of the blue, this pointed cough seized Clare's focus.

Standing there, emanating authority, was Atwood, the maestro conducting the concert.

With a deliberate pace, Atwood intoned, "Clare, now is hardly the moment for you to be engrossed in that music score."

“What? What are you implying?" Clare's mind raced, her voice filled with disbelief.

"I only glanced over it briefly!"

Clare had merely skimmed the initial segment. What, precisely, was Atwood hinting at?

“You only glanced over it briefly, you say?"

Atwood's face mirrored a tapestry of intertwined emotions.

“Perhaps our perception of time differs, Clare. You've kept us all waiting for you for a full fifteen minutes."

“You're jesting! This can't be!"

Those words landed on Clare like a ton of bricks, leaving her utterly flabbergasted.

When had she ever faced such deep-seated embarrassment? Had she truly been engrossed for fifteen minutes on a single segment?

"Maria! You're just showing off for the crowd!"

Clare's patience had frayed, and she was at her wit's end.

"Does this even qualify as a music score? It's unfathomable to imagine anyone mastering such a convoluted piece!"

Despite her mounting fury, Clare let out a bitter laugh, her once- beautiful visage now twisted into something grotesque.

Maria held Clare's gaze steadily, finally remarking, “Interesting.

Are you assuming that if you falter, others must fail too? Believe it or not, I can navigate this music score with ease. Care for a demonstration?"

The moment Maria spoke, a wave of intense curiosity swept over the room.

Maria could play that intricate music score? Surely, she must be joking!