Second day, five o'clock in the morning.
Before the day had dawned, while her roommates were still asleep, Shea Thorne quietly got up early and took her cello out of the dorm as soon as the door was opened.
Her mind was solely focused on music, and her routine was quite regular; therefore, this time was best suited for practice. Previously, her excellent grades had earned her a private studio. However, at F University, the studio space is limited, with many graduate students or those with higher demands. Thus, early arrival was necessary.
Nevertheless, Shea Thorne's studio was not peaceful. The school had two studios allocated for cellos. Just two hours into her practice, a girl barged in without courteousness, exclaiming, "Who let you in here?! Get out immediately!"
Shea Thorne was baffled. She noticed the girl was domineering as she pointed at the cello case beneath the blackboard and said, "This is my studio, please leave!"
"This is a public studio, and the school rules state first come, first served," Shea Thorne replied, gesturing at the 'Public Studio Usage Regulations' on the wall. "If you want to use it, I suggest coming earlier next time."
"You...! What year are you in?!" The girl, seeing Shea Thorne wasn't intimidated, pointed at her and questioned her student information, assuming she was a senior.
Shea Thorne ignored her, pointing at the cello case in the studio and replied, "If I were you, I wouldn't leave my instrument out of sight, let alone overnight in a public space."
The case looked branded; one daring enough to leave a cello worth over two hundred thousand here indeed.
From her observations over the past few days, students at F University generally did not have high consumption levels, making a cello worth more than two hundred thousand seem extravagant.
"You...! I've always left it here! Are you leaving or not?!" The girl, embarrassed and angry, demanded.
Shea Thorne adjusted her strings, saying, "I'm not leaving; first come, first served."
"Fine! You'll see!" The girl left behind harsh words, but still didn't take her cello.
But Shea Thorne wasn't overly concerned, practicing while her mind was full of plans.
Ariana Thorne's cello was too old, and after previously being treated violently by Ariana, she wasn't sure if it would be usable after repairs. If the tone was unsatisfactory, she'd need to buy a better one.
However, the problem was the cello she had her eye on cost at least five hundred thousand or more, far beyond what her living expenses allowed.
Ariana's father, an archaeology professor, after raising Ariana alone without remarriage, had not hesitated to spend his savings on his daughter. Yet, how could a modest professor afford such an extravagant item?
In her view, supporting Ariana's private lessons for learning the cello was already Mr. Thorne's greatest extent.
In Shea Thorne's memory, although Mr. Thorne supported his daughter's cello playing, he did not support her seeking out her mother, the renowned cellist, Alice Lawson.
The reasons perhaps were related to the divorce, Ariana hadn't sought out her mother in her second life, hence the question remained unaddressed and unanswered.
Alice Lawson, after gaining fame, had a very fulfilling family, with her husband being her longtime companion and agent throughout her rise. Ariana's brother, who was taken away, was renamed Justin Lawson.
After the divorce, Alice Lawson renamed him with her surname, with Justin coming from the stepfather's name. He also had a younger brother named Asher Keating, three years junior to Ariana.
She only knew that in Ariana's first life, it was her brother Justin Lawson who collected her body; her father did not come. In her second life, it was her father since she hadn't acknowledged Alice, leaving her mother's side uncontacted.
This showed that between her parents, she could only choose one side, now having chosen her father, her life thus became poorer, with only over thirty thousand remaining in her account, far short of a new cello.
It's difficult to transition from luxury to frugality; it seems she would have to tread her old paths by working.
She remembered a WeChat group they used to have that posted part-time jobs, whether it be for new store openings or playing music at banquets, essentially any paying gig they attended.
Her phone was left at the dorm, so she would think about the group's number when she got back, to see if it was still around, saving a lot of detours if it was.
Shea Thorne spent the entire day at the studio, leaving at eight o'clock at night. Before leaving, she tidied up the studio space and took her cello back to the dorm, finding it empty as her roommates were likely out at the night market.
Picking up her phone, she used the remembered number to search for that WeChat account, surprisingly finding it still existed. Shea Thorne sent out a friend request, awaiting its acceptance.
Once she's done with classes the next morning, she intends to find a quiet place to record a piece of music to show her capabilities, thereby gaining access to the appropriate group to get started.
...
The next day, she was accepted, and Shea Thorne immediately headed to the studio after class, discovering one studio occupied by the person practicing yesterday, while the other one she used yesterday was empty but locked.
The public studio being locked, Shea Thorne guessed it was done by yesterday's person and did not accommodate her, immediately seeking the department head for a key.
However, upon hearing Shea Thorne's intent, the department head's face fell, reprimanding, "At this time, with school resources limited, Yvonne is preparing for the national music competition early next year, so the school studio is prioritized for her use. You are to use the adjoining studio."
The adjoining studio implied the entire school would need to contest for its use, needing to queue overnight with uncertainty of getting a turn.
Shea Thorne didn't understand, asking, "But Sir, it's a public studio. Is it fine for her to privately lock it? Can I use it when she's not in class? I need the studio now."
It's too noisy outside to record a high-quality piece for the other party, requiring a professional studio. Currently, one is occupied, the other is simply vacant yet locked by Yvonne.
"Well... Yvonne's cello is quite valuable, she fears damage, thus we permitted her to lock the door," the department head said tactfully.
With that, Shea Thorne understood, the cello's value was only an excuse; the public studio had been privatized.
"So, you mean, to give a student special treatment we have to all scramble for one studio?" Shea Thorne retorted, questioning why limited school resources ought to be her concern and why their rights should be exploited.
"Thorne, watch your words. The school needs talented students to enhance our reputation. Your admission score was outstanding for the school, but what about your scores for the past two months?" the department head remembered Shea Thorne's name, initially holding much expectation for her, yet every class her performance had been mediocre, even regressive, now she was among the laggards.
Therefore, the school didn't consider it meaningful to pursue studio access for her sudden learning enthusiasm.
"Your professional course instructors even rated your level below ordinary students. They hope you'll identify issues from your perspective rather than solely blaming others for not providing opportunities," the department head advised formally, citing her professional teachers' disappointment and complaints regarding how Shea Thorne attained her entrance scores.
Shea Thorne understood, all inequality stemmed from the mess Ariana had caused, as she hadn't practiced diligently on entering college, rendering her professional assessments ordinary, and thus unnoticed by the school.
Quarreling with the school over a studio was the most unwise action. Shea Thorne went to the studio again, coincidentally encountering Yvonne coming to practice, glancing at Shea Thorne, holding her head high, unlocking and entering.
Without skill or favor from the school, Shea Thorne wasn't upset, she went next door to knock, finding a different student from earlier in the morning.
He wore thick glasses, looking up and asking, "Do you need something, fellow student?"
Shea Thorne didn't hesitate, immediately explaining her need to borrow the studio for thirty minutes to record a piece of music. The student, understandingly, offered his time after he left for lunch.
Finally encountering a smooth matter, Shea Thorne recorded the music and sent it off promptly to the other party.