After finishing my morning work, I was at the opera house again today.
The last time when I went to listen to a concert during my lunch break, it triggered the idea for a new magic circuit, and after that I was able to smoothly progress with work.
Since such a thing had occurred and I happened to hear that the same orchestra would be performing, I decided to make my way there again.
After each piece, the hall was quietly ablaze with excitement.
âThe next piece is a new composition by our orchestra. Please enjoy it.â
Then after one piece ended, the elf conductor said that in a cool voice.
The announcement of the new piece brought shrill cries from the fans in the front rows, and expectant applause rang out.
I donât have a complete list of the repertoire that this orchestra plays, but itâs a good thing that theyâre adding new pieces.
I also clap in welcome.
Soon, the applause and cheering eventually ceases, silence envelops the hall and the elf conductor waves his baton.
And with that, the music played. Though, I felt something strange about it and tilted my head.
âHmm?â
It was because the melody of the music played was strikingly similar to a song I knew.
One of my favourite songs that I used to listen to quite often in my previous life.
However, as that melody gradually progressed, it diverged from the song that I knew.
âŠâŠItâs definitely similar to that song from my past life, but there are also many places where itâs different.
Maybe It just so happened to resemble that song I knew?
Even in my past life, there was a saying that just by tweaking the tune of an excellent song, you could get a few hundred different songs.
You donât need to mention my previous world, in this world too thereâs a lot of music.
There are probably many songs that have somewhat similar melodies.
So while it may be true that itâs similar to the song I knew from my previous life, but when I listen closely, itâs completely different.
Thereâs also no way a song from my last life could be here in exactly the same form.
âWell, it sounds good anyway .â
It was as though someone had arranged one of my favourite songs, but their different interpretations and rhythms were still strangely comforting, and I listened with ease. , but the different interpretations and rhythms were strangely comforting, and I was able to listen with ease.
â
âCatalinaâs music was very well received!â
âHave you heard? The tickets for the next concert are already sold out. Well done!â
âFrom a while ago, Catalinaâs been saying that she wants to compose music as well. While practising the violin, she could still write music, amazing!â
It had been a while since we played the new piece I submitted.
In the hall, our orchestra was in a state of never before seen excitement.
The members were genuinely pleased with the rise in audience members, and everyone praised me for putting together that new piece.
However, that was not something I made by myself.
But I couldnât just honestly reveal that.
âT, thank you.â
I could only reply vaguely to the members who called out to me while trying to not let my face twitch.
âŠâŠWhat should I do? I had no idea that arranging a song from an annoying neighbour would result in this much of a response. We regularly present original music in our orchestra, but itâs never been this well-received.
It was the first time that tickets for the next concert were already sold out immediately after the concert ended.
Apparently, audience members who had heard the performance spread news by word of mouth and got things heating up.
Perhaps the song sung by my neighbour was enough to touch peopleâs hearts?
But itâs not hard to see why. My neighbourâs song was very sophisticated, with a melody that sounded out of this world.
It was no wonder that the music lovers who frequent the opera house were clamouring about this new style.
âCatalina, could you come here for a moment?â
âYes!â
As I was thinking about all this, Eltova called me over.
I answered and headed over to find that it was not just Eltova, but also a well-built old man.
âThis is Your Excellency Marlowe Montpellier, the manager of the opera house.â
âN, nice to make your acquaintance, my name is Catalina Macrae.â
I was quite surprised by Eltovaâs introduction, but I didnât show my shock and bowed gracefully, picking up the hem of my dress.
Marlowe is the head of a count family that not only manages several opera houses but is also a patron of various musicians.
He is quite a big name in the music industry. I didnât expect such a person to come.
âThe young lady over here is the one who wrote the new song being spoken about? Yes, yes, itâs always exciting to see the moment a young, talented child rises to the surface.â
âI am honoured by your praise, Your Excellency Montpellier, However, I am still immature.â
âNot at all. Thanks to you, the opera house is booming. I hope to energetically ride this wave.â
âWhat might you mean by that?â
I asked frankly, not understanding what Marlowe truly wanted.
âIf itâs alright with you, Catalina, would you not be willing to write another piece? It might be a tall hurdle to surpass this current piece, but if itâs you, I can have high expectations.â
Marlowe said such a thing with a grin, then left the hall in a good mood.
I understood what I was being told to do, but I couldnât accept it calmly.
With a stunned expression, I saw off that strong-looking back.
ââŠâŠThat being the case, Catalina, I want you to write another piece for us. You can do that, right?â
When Marlowe was out of sight, Eltova, who was by my side, cleared his throat and informed me.
In Eltovaâs words and eyes, there was a pressure that wouldnât allow refusal.
Him too, he definitely doesnât want to miss this chance to ride the momentum.
âU, understood.â
There was also no way I could turn down a request from the manager of the opera house, so I could only nod my head.
For my self-written pieces to become so popular that I would be asked to write the next piece and the next piece.
That was a future only in my wildest imaginations, but now it was becoming a reality.
Iâd set my hands on a position I was aiming for, but I could hardly be happy about it,
âWhat am I going to do? I definitely canât write something better!â
I returned home, laid down on my sofa, and weakly whined.
After so much trial and error, my actual piece was dismissed as mediocre by Eltova.
Even if I were to somehow pull out a piece from myself, it would probably not just leave Marlowe and Eltova upset, the audience would also be dissatisfied.
But Iâve been asked to write another one. How could I refuse now? What should I do?
âR, right. I can just arrange another song my neighbour sings.â
The songs sung by my neighbours change each day. Itâll be good as long as I can arrange them into a piece.
You may say that I have no pride as a musician and composer, but now is not the time to worry about such things. I need to live up to everyoneâs expectations.
Having built such an excuse to protect my mind, I decided to gently put my ear to the wall connected to my neighbour.
This is so I wonât miss the moment my neighbour starts singing again.
â
After practice sessions were over, I would head straight back to my house and spend a while living with my ear to the wall.
âHe sang!â
Finally, my neighbour started singing.
He would usually come home in the evening and start singing when he was about to finish dinner.
I knew this, so I had been hugging the wall all evening, and finally my neighbour sang. It was also different from the last time, a song I hadnât heard before.
To not miss any sound, I focused my attention.
However, just when I wanted to hear him the most, the neighbour sang in a low volume.
I felt seriously frustrated by this because the deadline for the manager and Eltovaâs request was coming soon.
âWhy are you being so soft today!â
Usually he sings so loudly that even without putting my ear against the wall, sound can still pass through.
This is bad, like this the song will be over.
If I let this day pass, I donât know when my unpredictable neighbour will sing again.
Even if I have to risk it I should get a better listen.
I dashed out of my room and put my ear to my neighbourâs door.
â~~âȘâ
Then I hear my neighbourâs singing voice clearly.
I listened as though to carve every single note and rhythm into my brain.
From the outside, I look like a complete stalker, but I canât care right now.
I was able to return to my room as soon as I finished listening to the song, so there was no problem.