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Summary
Lexa, an exceptional violinist plucked from Washington DC and dropped into the London Arcadian Academy of the Arts, finds herself entangled in difficult dynamics with an overconfident artist. The artist is exactly the sort of girl Lexa can't afford to make friends with. Not with that charm. Not with that smile.
The candle burns slow, but hot all the same.
'"In a place like this, you might find that you need friends. It’s all rosy, until it’s not.”
Evidently, the brunette standing stationary beside Clarke thought nothing to her advice and answered dismissively, her voice emanating as much warmth as a solitary stone, “I’ll pass.”
“Are you sure?” It was her final offer.
As if to slap her in the face, the young woman was silent, the cold intensity of her stare battling with the fire in Clarke’s. After a moment of unbearable friction, the blonde just nodded and pushed away from the bar, “Message received. You have a good evening, won’t you?”
Hardly able to stop herself from suppressing the fury brimming on the back of her tongue, Clarke rested a hand lightly on Anya’s arm as she walked by, “I hope her talent truly is exceptional. It will need to be.”'