, I am going to be late

Sparing a peek on her wristwatch, the time now is a quarter to four.
Nako has asked her to arrived the venue at four fifty.

The stadium is only two blocks away, but seeing the long queue of trucks and cars lining up at the next crossway, Sakura sighed and wiped the tiny raindrops that had been blurring her sight by accumulating on her glasses surface.

I gotta run or I will be late, for real.

She has reminded herself the piano recital would start at five for thousand times.
Blame her manager for holding her up too long at the office after the usual conference so Sakura was half an hour late than she planned.

To be honest, Sakura did not even know why she is attending this recital.
Sakura is never a Jazz person, neither a classical music lover.
If she could, Sakura would definitely prefer staying in her self-rented apartment after work. Be it playing online games or fangirling over Red Velvet (her bias is Irene), it would certainly be more worthwhile than coming to a corny and boring piano performance. 
It is just that her beloved cousin - Nako has gifted her this ticket and advised her to appreciate new dimension of arts; not wanting to disappoint the younger, she has accepted the ticket. Deep down she was not even one percent interested in this.

...

She was busily trying to peek at her phone without being caught by the securities that wandered around to warn people not using electronic devices when the pianist changed the tempo of music from slow soothing melodies to dynamics with excitement.

Sakura was startled; the phone slipped from her palm and fell into the invisible darkness.
The seating area had been covered with soft carpet to absorb noise, so it is fortunate that Sakura only heard a quiet dull thump - which went unnoticed by everyone except Sakura for being highly alert and aware of the mistake she just made - instead of a crystal-clear screen breaking sound.

Sakura tried to blindly swing her arm in darkness and search for the phone, but was disturbed by the quiet cough from the middle-aged man sitting next to her.
That man glared at her as a warning and Sakura had no choice but to halt her searching and sat upright in her place.

Now now now, what could I do?
Obviously there are two choices for Sakura;
without her phone, she could choose to concentrate or sleep, given the fact she has been in a lack of rest due overnight game playing in last week.

Sakura might not be really fond of classical music, but she knew what is respect.
Nako's ticket got her to sit at the second row from the stage, at this proximity the pianist could easily see her. (Though it is not like the concentrated musician would look here) But still, letting an artist to see audiences down stage to fall asleep during their passionate performance is a big disgrace. Sakura decided to try and concentrate on the stage and wish it might help her to kill the time within the coming - Sakura peeked at her wristwatch again - forty minutes.

Slender fingers were flying above the keyboards and implying touches on to the black and white keys with wide range of dynamics.
Sakura has to admit such skills is appreciative.

She has never seen a classical music performance before.
In her imaginations, these kinds of performances are always crowded with hypocritics, showcased with overly expensive instruments, and the same patterns of boring chords and melodies would be played. From her vague memories, famous musicians are always mid-aged men with curly long hair, with thick accents and seemed to belong to the upper class of society only.
They all made Sakura felt so distanced.

This recital is quite different from what she expected;
free-flowing melodies, no pretentious mid-aged male in suit, the whole setting actually felt quite easy-going.

The pianist is a female, or Sakura would rather put it this way;
a young beautiful woman that looks far more trendy to be a pianist.

When she arrived the venue, Sakura was kinda resented sitting at such a front seat.
Now she thanked such proximity letting her to admire the side profile of the musician.
The long eyelashes that gracefully curved upward, the sharp chin line, every details of the woman seem to be carefully crafted by God...

Wait,
Sakura halted her train of thoughts and seemed to realise something,
at some angle she did look like Irene... no wonder I find this woman attractive... 

The music has ended without Sakura realising.
She was not a usual to these kinds of classical concerts.
By recalling from what she has watched from the drama series, Sakura automatically stood up and shouted 'Brava!' while clapping her hands. 

In an instance, her cheer had been engulfed by silence and all eyes were on her standing figure.

She was quite grateful the claps did not stop - or she would fe