First violin. In real life as well as in music. The first and last word. Young, outrageously sexy, and well aware of it. The last one standing at the end of the night. On the clouds or in chains, never in-between. Bloody fingers and discipline to the point of unconsciousness.
Cello. The instrument as a pure, lascivious symbol, the mastery of which is a deep act of satisfaction. Perfect pitch, musical parents, plays every instrument, loves cello because it kills her. Infinite talent, doesn't speak, unless in a whisper. Music comes to her, in the sheets rather than in the rehearsal room.
Viola. Romantic warrior. In search of the higher order and lowest anchor. Trained by mother, perfected in long nights. Father a sculptor. Love is the last resort, only music matters.
Violin. Secret service father, ice skating mother, childhood in transit. Speaks Russian, Dutch, German, but nary a word too many, it could give the game away. Lovers come and go, the eye is never revealed. Conservatory in Holland, rigorous training, the most beautiful creature of the night, a double life. Deep passion, ice cold Scarlett.
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