Chapter 767:
Elyse was bewildered by his behavior. A side of him she had never truly seen emerged—petulant, stubborn, and maddeningly self-absorbed. She’d glimpsed these traits before, but now they were starkly apparent, as if Jayden had shed all pretense.
A sudden jolt of clarity struck Elyse as she found herself lost in thoughts of Jayden. She shook her head, determined to sever the lingering threads of his influence. Divorced meant divorced—no more wasting time on that no-good jerk. She needed to focus on herself, not let him derail her life any longer.
With renewed resolve, Elyse picked up her violin, tuning it meticulously before leaving the lounge. Backstage, she heard the unmistakable cries of someone in distress. Following the sounds, she found Fiona slumped on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, surrounded by crumpled tissues. Darren stood over her, looking helpless, while other contestants offered ineffective comfort.
Elyse observed the scene. Finally, she looked at Darren. “You actually beat her?” she asked, incredulous.
Darren nodded slowly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I won,” he admitted, “but it’s hard to feel good about it.”
“Don’t even get me started,” Geraldine chimed in, standing near Darren. “She’s a sore loser. I have no idea why she’s in this contest. Her performance was dreadful!”
Darren was surprised by Geraldine’s bluntness. Elyse gently silenced Geraldine and crouched beside Fiona. “Hey, don’t cry. You have another shot. The Comeback Competition winner earns another slot.”
But Fiona’s sobs intensified.
Elyse snapped, “Are you going to throw away this chance too? You forfeited the Champions Cup, and now you’re about to give up on the Swan Cup!”
“How could you understand?” Fiona cried, facing Elyse. “Do you think I’ll win a slot in the Comeback Competition?”
Elyse’s expression hardened. “So you’ll accept defeat? Fine. Your skills are mediocre, and you lack competitive spirit!”
“Elyse Lloyd! How dare you—” Fiona rose, hand raised to strike.
But Elyse, no longer the timid girl Fiona knew, met her with a sharp blow.
“Did that slap finally knock some sense into you?” Elyse’s voice was cold. “Fiona, you were Mr. Tucker’s student, and now you’re stuck in the semifinals. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“Remember the Champions Cup?” Elyse continued, pointing at Darren. “His skills were inferior, yet you lost. Mr. Tucker got you into this competition. How did you repay him?”
Her gaze was icy. “Darren, and others from the Champions Cup, have surpassed you, yet you want to quit!” . . .