Singing is often described as an expression of the heart, conveyed through the voice.
But what if the heart is too afraid to speak?
This is the story of Eluera Valentine—a socially mute girl striving to overcome her fear through singing.
Before the silence swallows her voice.
—
In a small café glowed softly in the evening light. Warm, quiet, with just a gentle hum of background noise.
In one corner, a wooden platform stood—a simple stage, nothing fancy.
Outside, the sky was turning gold.
Inside, everything felt still.
Three girls stood on that little wooden stage.
Eluera Valentine held the microphone with both hands.
Her short, wavy white hair caught the light, and her yellow eyes—usually down—were lifted just enough. She looked nervous.
Next to her, Catherine Solvine tuned her guitar, casual and confident.
She grinned, her blue eyes full of energy, her long orange hair bouncing with every motion.
"Ready, Lu?" Catherine said quietly, nudging her shoulder.
"Let's give them a show."
On Eluera's other side, Evelyn Lunaria sat by the piano.
Long yellow hair, calm blue eyes, and a red ribbon beneath her collar.
"We're with you." She smiled.
Then the music started.
Eluera sang—soft, but very shaky,
Catherine's guitar gave it rhythm.
Evelyn's piano held it all together.
It wasn't perfect; but it felt honest.
In the back of the café, a woman sat watching. She didn't clap when it ended. Just smiled a little. Her green eyes sharp, but hard to read.
—
Later, at the small home they shared under one roof, the three girls crashed on their couch.
Tired, the kind of tiredness that settles in after doing something that matters.
The place smelled faintly like cocoa.
"Ugh. That wiped me out," Catherine muttered, flopping back and kicking off her shoes.
Eluera tucked her knees up, smiling quietly. She didn't say anything, but let out a soft laugh.
"I swear my guitar was out of tune," Catherine groaned.
"Please tell me no one noticed."
At the kitchen counter, Evelyn poured some tea. She looked over her shoulder.
"At least it's over."
Eluera whispered, barely audible.
"Do you think... anyone cared?"
Catherine blinked. Then smiled.
"Yeah, of course. We did good."
"Someone out there must've listened."
Evelyn paused.
"…Maybe," she said.
"But sometimes it still feels like no one sees us."
Evelyn's words hit something in Eluera's chest, but she brushed it away.
—
Then the doorbell rang.
Catherine sat up, frowning.
"Who's here this late?"
She walked to the door.
An envelope lay on the doorstep.
No name. No return address.
Only a wax seal stamped with a music note.
Catherine picked it up, puzzled.
"The hell is this?"
She broke the seal and unfolded the letter inside—neat handwriting, precise and formal.
—
To Harmony band.
To those who perform with heart,
You are cordially invited to Aria Luna Music Academy.
Your music stirred more than just applause.
Prepare yourselves—for the Final Sonata awaits.
– F
The letter sat on the table, its wax seal half-peeled. The gold edges caught a faint glint under the dim light.
Invitation to Aria Luna Music Academy.
Catherine raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, seriously? Is this a prank? Where's the camera?"
Evelyn leaned forward.
"It's addressed to us. All three of us."
Catherine folded her arms.
"Yeah, but don't you think a prestigious academy like Aria Luna would, I don't know, hold auditions?"
The room went quiet.
"…They don't do auditions," Eluera said softly.
"What?" Catherine blinked.
"Eluera's right," Evelyn added, her voice calm. She brushed a strand of yellow hair behind her ear.
"They only send invitations."
"That's why it's... genuine."
"They chose... us." Eluera's hands trembled slightly as she spoke.
Catherine dropped onto the couch, arms spread.
"Why? We're just some garage band from nowhere. Cheap gear, late-night noodle runs..."
But no one answered.
—
Dusk came quietly, light slipping through the curtains and settling across the floor.
"Oh, by the way," Evelyn said after a while.
"We're almost done with high school. Graduation's next week."
"Don't remind me," Catherine groaned.
"Everyone keeps asking about college, careers, the future… like I've already got my whole life figured out."
Eluera smiled faintly.
"...Haven't you?"
"Only if 'try not to burn down the kitchen' counts."
For a brief moment, the tension eased.
—
Eluera sat on her bed, her mind were fixated on the Aria Luna poster she saw earlier.
"I want to... sing without fear," she whispered.
By the window, Evelyn stood quietly, arms folded.
"What do I even want?" she thought.
"Where am I supposed to go?"
In the living room, Catherine lay on the couch, tossing a stress ball into the air.
She hated the feeling of not knowing what came next after graduation.
"What do I do after graduation…" she murmured.
—
A week had passed. Graduation came and went. No more alarms, no more classes. Things were not the same.
And one afternoon, Eluera entered the room with the letter in her hands.
"We should call..." she said.
Catherine froze mid-bite.
"You're serious?"
Eluera nodded.
"Yes."
Evelyn replied by the kitchen, turning off the faucet.
"I've been thinking about it too."
Catherine sighed and rubbed her face.
"Okay. But if we end up in a creepy white van, I'm blaming you."
—
They dialed the number.
A woman answered. Her voice was calm and composed. She confirmed the invitation, then asked:
"Do you accept?"
Eluera looked at Evelyn, Evelyn looked at Catherine, Catherine sighed.
"…Yeah," Eluera whispered.
"We accept." the trio spoke together.
—
The morning of their departure came quietly.
They stood outside their small shared house, bags at their feet. It wasn't much—but it had been their lovely home.
Catherine slung her bag over her shoulder.
"So long, weird little house. Hope the next people like finding guitar picks everywhere."
Evelyn looked up at the sky.
"We're really doing this."
Eluera's hair stirred slightly in the breeze.
"This is... where it begins..."
A silver car waited at the curb.
They got in, one by one.
"Let's show the world our music."