People always expect something.

Even though they know that expectation will inevitably be betrayed one day.

So they repeat the same wounds and reiterate the same regrets.

Inside the rehearsal room, only the sound of turning pages echoes quietly. The conductor, clad in a black suit, watches the members while tapping the beat with the tip of his baton. After a brief performance, he slowly takes off his glasses and sets them down on the desk.

"...That's enough."

Silence falls over the room.

"Are you all truly serious about making music? ..I question why you are even in this room."

The air turns ice-cold at his low-spoken words. No one dares to make an excuse, their gazes dropping to the floor.

In the silence that follows,

someone quietly stands up from their seat.