Paris Concert

"What's happened?"

"I repeat. Flight 37, from Los Angeles to Paris, has crashed. We have no further information about this crash," the speaker once again announced.

Amanda was astonished. She was speechless. She shivered. She tried to walk to me but tripped over the dresser.

"Carter, calm down," she whispered, looking for somewhere to sit down. She reached the chair that I had just kicked and sat down.

"Carter! Listen, listen, man. Everything's fine. I believe they are okay. God knows better, believe me," Reggie preached. He had a little cut on his bleeding lips.

"Shut the hell up, Reggie, shut up!" I furiously screamed at him.

I kicked, kicked, and kicked the wall. Then I squatted in the middle of the room.

"It's over, my life has been destroyed."

"Bullshit! Bullshit, man! You full of shit! You are out of your mind... You can't give up again," Reggie yelled at me heatedly.

"I quit. It's all my fault. If I hadn't come here, that would never have happened." I blamed myself.

"I'm not gonna do this contest. I'm sorry," I protested vaguely.

"No, I'm sorry. Too late, Carter, you can't quit now. We gotta do this concert, or else I'll get sued," Amanda replied.

I looked up at her and then at the violin on the dresser. Reggie grabbed the violin off the dresser and handed it to me. I had no other choice.

Lobby Edwith, Sherley, Peggy, and Mhiya, all dressed up, rushed into the lobby. A French security guard stopped them to check their tickets.