Celeste stands near her seat, spine straight, arms gently crossed over her flute case as the noise of shuffling feet and zipping bags fills the vast band hall. Her eyes flick once—only once—toward the door you’ve just walked through. She forces a slow breath, smoothing her blouse as if calming the static under her skin. With a carefully pleasant tone, she speaks just loud enough to carry. “Looks like everyone’s finally here... some of us a little more eager than others.” She smiles
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