Chapter 155
Chapter 155:
As Ashton showcased his talent on stage, those who had earlier mocked Phillip began to ridicule him again. Their gazes returned to Phillip, who looked visibly shaken.
Once again, the taunts began to rain down on Phillip.
“I remember someone accusing Mr. Baldwin of being unprofessional or indifferent about this performance,” one voice sneered.
“That’s right. Does this nitpicker have anything to say now?” another chimed in.
“If you can’t come up with a rebuttal, how about I suggest one for you? You could claim that ‘the audience today was all hired by Mr. Baldwin.’ It’s a fairly reasonable excuse, isn’t it?”
“Perhaps he simply doesn’t appreciate art. Good music can be enjoyed by anyone!”
Phillip’s mind went blank as he absorbed the mockery and Ashton’s melodious piano playing simultaneously.
After a moment of stunned silence, Phillip regained his composure. He grasped Tristan’s collar with an iron grip.
Struggling to maintain his calm, he couldn’t suppress his rage, his voice a harsh whisper through gritted teeth. “Tristan! Is this what you meant by everything being ready? Can’t you see what Ashton is doing now? What the hell can you possibly do?”
Clutched by Phillip, Tristan didn’t resist; he was equally baffled. “No way,” Tristan murmured. “I did glue the piano’s sound-producing parts. It shouldn’t be making any sound like it normally does. Why isn’t his performance affected?”
Phillip’s fury ignited as he saw Tristan’s confused expression. He swore, “Even a stray dog would wag its tail in gratitude after being fed. And here you are, bold enough to ask for money despite the shoddy job you did. You really like money that much, huh? Fine! I’ll set some aside for your funeral.”
Tristan’s anger flared at the insults.
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He shoved Phillip away and snapped, “How dare you speak to me like that? Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused our family? Blaming me for the job—why don’t you blame yourself for not choosing decent glue? If you’re so capable, why don’t you do it yourself? I showed you some respect, and you think you’re already someone important?”
The other students had shifted their attention back to the music, noticing that Phillip was too intimidated to retaliate.
But soon, Phillip’s altercation with the person beside him began to sour the mood.
They became irritated, and one of them finally asked, “Are you done? If you don’t want to watch the show, then just get out. Or keep your mouth shut. Don’t provoke us into doing something you’ll regret.”
Phillip was about to retort, but as he felt the weight of the crowd’s glares and noticed some people flexing their muscles—a cold sweat broke out on his back. He had no choice but to comply and remain silent.
Despite this, Phillip was seething with indignation.
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