Hm. I don't think any of my critics were as interesting as that. Or as blatantly cruel.

[ If they were, he might have been more inclined to actually listen to them. Just a little. Though he doesn't agree or disagree with what she says. He imagines, through the second-hand drunken haze surrounding his mind, she'd smack him if he did either. ]

My teacher always read me the paper the following morning after a new show. If the reviews were negative, he'd have ten things for me to fix by the next performance. If they were glowing, he'd have twenty.

[ He reaches up where her arm is, folding a still trembling hand beside it. ]

These useless twitching things used to play grand concertos, you know. I was quite famous.