"If you dare to deliberately hold me back, I'll be like a grass/pig!"

In the foam of the mouth, Fletcher burst out all his anger, all his irritability, and all his emotions towards Andrew, without restraint or discount, and the face began to distort, as hideous as a monster opening its bloody mouth, condescendingly full of fire.

Andrew was completely stunned, his stubbornness, his impulsiveness, his strength, his pride, all of it fell apart in this tsunami of air.

Andrew thought he was holding on well. Even in the face of the slap, he still did not flinch.

But the cruel reality completely shattered his imagination, and his so-called insistence was completely vulnerable in the face of the full-scale outbreak of Fletcher, and he couldn't even breathe, let alone resist and fight back. That frustration began to swallow up at a rate of two or three times, and that drowning fear swept over him, and the corners of his mouth began to twitch uncontrollably.

Control. Control. Control.

Andrew tried every nerve to control his emotions, not to make himself more embarrassed and guilty, hoping to maintain the last shred of dignity and not repeat the mistake of the chief trombone, but it was too difficult, he could only breathe rapidly, gritted his teeth, pressed all his fears in the depths of his heart, and kept telling himself: it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.

But Fletcher didn't give him breathing room at all.

"Now, are you going to hurry, or are you going to delay, or are you going to ......" Fletcher bent down again, like a Tyrannosaurus rex looking down on the tiny creature above the ground, and roared, "You're going to follow my rhythm?"

One word at a time, each word was like a hurricane, one after another rushed head-on, so that Andrew completely held his breath, as if any little breath leaked out, he would become a T-Rex meal, before he knew it, he had closed his eyes, but even so, the violently trembling eyeballs under his eyelids and the slightly twitching corners of his mouth still exposed the turbulent waves in his heart.

Andrew didn't answer, and Fletcher didn't compromise, and the laser-like gaze left Andrew with nowhere to run.

"I'll follow your rhythm. Andrew's voice continued to tremble, like a dead leaf bathed in the cold wind, completely lost its roots, and drifted away with the wind.

Fletcher still didn't let him go, grabbed the music score next to him fiercely, and pointed to the symbol in the upper left corner, "What is written on this?"

Andrew had to reopen his eyes, "A quarter note is equal to 215. ”

"Count to 215 and see. Fletcher then said aggressively.

Maybe someone noticed, maybe no one noticed, but Andrew's volume was slowly, slowly waning, almost turning into a murmur on his lips, and his gaze completely avoided Fletcher, staring squarely at the music stand in front of him, as if he were practicing.

Fletcher's voice, on the other hand, grew stronger and stronger, like a golden rod, turning the entire East China Sea upside down, and his gaze was like a falcon, firmly locked on Andrew, and everyone knew that this was already his prey, and he would never escape.

Between going back and forth, entering and exiting, the hunting relationship between the two people becomes clearer and clearer, and there is really a sense of nowhere to escape.

Andrew noticed.

He raised his chin again, trying to face it head-on, but his shoulders and chest were already lowered, and he couldn't lift it at all, and the heavy pressure was pouring down, and he was powerless to resist, so he could only barely raise his chin to show that he was still not crushed.

At the same time, he deliberately raised his voice, and the abnormal volume was showing the last strength in his heart, "One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four." ”

"Jesus-hell-Christ!When did Shelfer start recruiting retarded people?" Fletcher couldn't believe his ears, hugged his head, and grumbled in a foul mouth, a sharp taunt like a scythe, slicing through Andrew's last protective net, layer by layer, "Are you trying to tell me now that you can't read the beat?"

Andrew pursed the corners of his lips tightly, his eyes blinking rapidly and flustered. He was now completely confused even by the instinct/ability to breathe, let alone think and react, and he felt that the whole world was falling apart.

"You can't even read the score, do you?" said Fletcher, flipping through the sheet music again, fingering at a note.

"That?" Andrew said uncertainly, blinking again.

"Yes, what's that?" Fletcher's patience had burned out, and the sound of the rush was becoming more and more ferocious and sharper.

"Dotted sixteenth notes. Andrew said without confidence, his voice muttering as he quickly caught Fletcher's expression out of the corner of his eye, as if to determine if his answer was correct.

Fletcher, however, ignored Andrew and looked up at the other musicians next to him, "Sing a 101-measure." ”

In a nervous mood, Andrew didn't notice the focus of Fletcher's gaze at all, but reflexively followed Fletcher's gesture and turned his head to look over, facing the other musicians, and began to hum the rhythm, "Horn Horn, Horn." Because the verb used by Fletcher just now was "Sing", Andrew didn't even think about it and just sang it.

But Fletcher was outrageous, "Are you/in an Acapella?" I couldn't believe my ears, my whole face flushed, and I yelled at the foam, "Drums!

Those spittle stars rushed to his face, but Andrew only felt the bloody rain, his whole face couldn't help wrinkling, extremely annoyed, he could even feel the ubiquitous contempt and ridicule, ten thousand arrows were projected through the heart, but he didn't have time to care about this, secretly gritted his teeth, cheered himself on, turned around, and quickly began to hit 101 bars on the drum kit.

After just two four-beats, Fletcher interrupted his performance, "Stop!" and then squeezed the topic out of his teeth word by word, and even could already vaguely taste the air of menace, like a sharp dagger on his neck, "Now to answer my question, are you in a hurry?" or delayed?"

Andrew didn't dare to turn his head.

He didn't dare to face Fletcher's gaze, he didn't dare to face Fletcher's anger, and more importantly, he didn't dare to face Fletcher's problems.

Everything happened so fast, like a tornado, whistling by. It seemed like heaven a second ago, bathed in Fletcher's aura of admiration, he was tomorrow's Buddy Ricky, but a second later it was hell, and the storm came out of nowhere without warning, and in an instant it was a chaos, and everything that happened after that was obscured.

He didn't understand what was going on, his whole brain was a mess, all his memories were blurred by a slap and a roar, he couldn't even remember what he was playing, which led to the chain of accidents that followed, so he didn't know if he was in a hurry or a delay, so he couldn't answer Fletcher's questions.

Just now, the chief trombone was swept away. He didn't want to be that person.

Andrew pursed the corners of his mouth and held back his emotions hard, but there was still a halo swirling in the depths of his eyes, as if he was trying to stop this from happening by all means before the building was about to collapse.

"Answer!" Fletcher really roared, and the gruff voice erupted with endless energy above the eardrums, and the whole world began to shake.

"It's in a hurry. Andrew replied.

But even Andrew himself was aware of the anomaly, his voice was too sharp and too trembling, revealing his own unconfidence, and the tail note unconsciously rose up as if it were a question sentence, revealing his own uncertainty. He's blind.

It's over.

He's finished.

Embarrassed and wretched, even worse than the chief trombone who had just been swept away, he must have looked very, very ugly now, like a naktoned tramp, his dignity and pride had been thrown on the ground and trampled and crushed and crushed, not only inferiority, but he even began to hate himself now.

He closed his eyes, in fear and panic, gritting his teeth, barely holding on to the last shred of strength to avoid falling apart completely.

Still, he failed.

Before I realized it, the tears in my eyes just slid down like this.

The moment the hot tears wet his face, Andrew realized that even the last fig leaf had been torn off, and he was so defenseless exposed to everyone, not just embarrassed, not just embarrassed, not just embarrassed, he couldn't even feel the shame now.

After realizing this, the tears became more and more unstoppable, and he gritted his teeth like an ostrich, burying his head in the sand when he encountered a crisis, as long as he could not see it, it would not exist.

So, he closed his eyes tightly and clenched his teeth, as if he didn't open his eyes, and the last shred of dignity could still be maintained.

Fletcher noticed this, but without the slightest sympathy, he shook his head incredulously and slightly, the corners of his mouth outlined a touch of mockery, he couldn't believe his eyes, and couldn't help but sigh, "Oh, my dear God......"