Side Chick Era Over (Sharon and Carter) novel Chapter 778

Chapter 778

Kelly entered the hall with a foreign man at her side.

The moment they stepped in, the crowd swarmed around them.

“My goodness! Isn’t that Harry Wells? The one they call Maestro Warner’s rightful successor!”

“Harry Wells? You mean the child prodigy who stunned the world at five years old?”

“Ahhh! Harry Wells is my idol! He’s only thirty-five and already at the pinnacle of his career. By the time he reaches Maestro

Warner’s age, his status will be untouchable!”

“With Kelly partnering with him, how is anyone else supposed to compete? They’re playing in a completely different league.”

A voice dripping with schadenfreude sliced through the commotion.

“Well, well… looks like someone is about to be utterly humiliated.”

At that, every head swiveled toward Sharon, their eyes gleaming with vicious anticipation, as if awaiting the start of a public

execution.

From the start of the competition, Sharon had remained undefeated, securing the top score in every round. Not even Abigail’s

scandal had left a dent in her reputation-if anything, it boosted her popularity and prestige.

Sharon wasn’t just rewriting history with her performances; her commercial value was fast approaching that of a top-tier

celebrity.

For the other contestants, who usually struggled for recognition, envy burned deep. They longed to see her stumble, to watch her

brilliance shatter, to witness the downfall of a shooting star.

The man beside Kelly looked about thirty-five. His natural golden curls framed a tall, imposing figure. Arrogance radiated from

his brow, and his gaze carried an air of disdain, as though the world beneath him barely deserved notice.

Leaning closer, Kelly whispered, “Harry, that’s Sharon and John over there.”

Harry’s gaze flickered toward Sharon. Seeing a young, unfamiliar woman, he dismissed her almost instantly, his attention shifting to John instead.

At the sight of him, Harry let out a low, scornful snort. “So it’s you. My perennial defeated opponent.”

John’s fists clenched instinctively at his sides.

As fellow violinists, their paths had crossed many times in the crucible of international competition. And every single time, Harry

had crushed him without an ounce of mercy.

John could admit it-his skills were inferior. He was a violin genius, yes, but Harry existed in a different stratosphere; a genius

among geniuses. There is always a greater talent, a higher mountain to climb—that was the natural order.

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What was unbearable, however, was Harry’s venomous arrogance, his utter contempt for anyone he deemed beneath him.

Every opponent who faced him was subjected to merciless, soul-crushing humiliation.

“With your pathetic skills, you shouldn’t even be allowed to touch a violin. You’re a disgrace to our art.

“So weak. Unbelievably weak. Twenty years of training, and this is all you have to show for it?

“Today, you have the misfortune of facing me. Do yourself a favor. Withdraw now and save yourself the public shame.

“Hard work? Don’t make me laugh. With your level of talent, a hundred years of practice wouldn’t give you even a tenth of my

ability.

“Quit. You’re simply not cut out for this.

“To have studied since childhood and still be this profoundly mediocre… if I were you, I would lack the face to even go on living.”

For artists already raw from the sting of defeat, his words were a poison. Many violinists never recovered from his ridicule, their

passion for the instrument extinguished forever. Some gave up music entirely.

A few… tragically, ended their lives.

John himself had once been crushed under the weight of Harry’s scorn, sinking into a deep and prolonged despair. It was only

through sheer force of will that he had finally clawed his way back to the light.

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