Chapter 500

“Bang!” The studio door burst open, the sound echoing harshly in the silent night.

“Damn it! Are you out of your mind? Why didn't you talk to Mr. Tucker first? People would kill for a spot here!” Irving stormed in, the night’s chill clinging to his leather jacket.

Gavin, visibly startled and exhausted, asked, “Why are you here?”

“Didn’t you say Fiona was missing? I’ve been searching for her all day. I just got back and heard what she said. Why shouldn't I be upset?” Irving snapped.

Fiona, realizing the impact of her words, looked away, avoiding Irving’s intense gaze.

Irving strode toward her, his anger palpable. He demanded, “So, you want to quit? You don’t want to be a part of this anymore? Think there’s a gap between us?”

He fired off the questions, but Fiona remained silent.

Irving’s anger dissolved into mocking laughter. “What, having regrets now? You said it; you can’t take it back. Fiona Evans, you’re a hypocrite!”

“Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’m despicable. Elyse is the best, right? Irving Dunn, I’m so tired of your temper,” Fiona retorted, shoving Irving away as she started to leave.

Irving moved to stop her, but Gavin intervened.

“Enough. Calm down. You’re both angry, and things get said in the heat of the moment. I’ll talk to her.”

Irving, momentarily speechless, asked, “Should I go home?”

Gavin said, “Call Elyse. She won first prize. You haven’t congratulated her yet.”

Irving slapped his forehead. “Gosh! I forgot. You told me Fiona was missing, so I spent all day looking for her and forgot to congratulate Elyse.”

“Hurry up and call her, or she’ll be upset,” Gavin urged.

Irving knew Elyse’s temper well. If she were upset, he’d have to make amends. The thought was daunting. After Gavin left, Irving crossed his legs on the couch and called Elyse.

Elyse answered weakly, “Hello, Irving, what’s up?”

Irving cleared his throat. “I’m calling to congratulate you, Elyse. Take a few days off to rest. When you’re back, I’ll teach you the violin.”

“Thank you, I…” Elyse’s voice trailed off into a retch.

Concerned, Irving asked urgently, “What’s wrong, Elyse? Are you okay?”

Before Elyse could answer, she vomited. Then a man’s voice said, “This is Clive, Elyse’s friend. She’s in the hospital. It may be a few days before she can return; she’s quite unwell.”

Irving frowned. “What happened? Upset stomach?”

Clive glanced at Elyse, who was still bent over the toilet. “No, it’s not food-related. She’s pregnant.”

Irving breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, she’s pregnant. That’s good. At least it’s not food poisoning.”

A few seconds later, his voice trembled. “She’s pregnant? You mean Elyse Lloyd?”

Clive said sincerely, “Yes, I was surprised too. Her condition will be obvious soon. That’s why I thought you should know.”

Stunned, Irving struggled to hold his phone. “Which hospital?”

“Inpatient building, Ward 806, Crestwell Healthcare Center,” Clive replied.

“I’ll be right there,” Irving said. He leaped up, nearly falling, then sped to his motorcycle and raced to the hospital.

After a while, Elyse’s nausea subsided. She took a tissue from Clive and asked, “What did Irving say?”

Clive patted her back. “He’s on his way. I gave him your ward number.”

With Clive’s help, Elyse slowly got out of the bathroom and sat on the bed, looking exhausted.

Clive asked, “Are you hungry? You only ate cereal, and you threw that up. You must be weak.”

Elyse nodded, rubbing her stomach. “It’s awful. I’ve been vomiting all day. My stomach is on fire,” she said, her voice filled with distress.

The unnecessary text at the end has been removed. The passage has been cleaned up for grammar, punctuation, and flow. Word choices have been made to improve readability and avoid unnecessary intensifiers.