You Can Replace My Rhythm But Never My Luck
Language: en
I was mediocre, utterly tone-deaf, and entirely unqualified. I was only brought into the ensemble because they were short a body. Once inside, I discovered I was surrounded by masters. Rhett, the handsome cellist, was max level on cello, viola, and violin. Sasha, the runaway pianist, could sight-read sheet music backward. Celina, the flutist from a musical dynasty, had perfect aural recall for any composition. And me? I knew nothing. My palms were always damp with sweat. They tossed me a tuning fork and a sand shaker, telling me to just rattle it—just keep the volume down so I didn't…