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 Posted: Wed Apr 28, 2010 7:47 pm
Though he was both content to remain in Concert I band, but also determined to remain exactly second-chair flute, that still meant that Ian had to practice for his auditions for band for next year. Although ... a small part of him had started to insist that maybe he could give Concert II band a try, and participate in marching band that fall, just to see how it was. He had heard any number of exciting stories about marching band, but also various complaints about how much work it was and how much time it took up.
It might be fun, and it would certainly get him in better shape, though Ian was also worried that he would get worn out, would not be able to keep up, would not have time for all his homework....
The worries made his fingers falter as he ran through his chromatic scales, and he stopped a moment to start over again. There were a few other students in the band room at the moment on various instruments in various corners of the room, working through prepared pieces and scales for their auditions. Ian's was not for another week, but he figured today would be a good day to get some extra practice in after school, since he did not have a lot of homework.
After a more successful scale, up and down, the boy stood and stretched, leaving his music behind on his stand but taking his instrument with him out into the hallway to get a drink of water. He was getting hungry, too, so he could also stop at the vending machine, but the red-haired boy had a few other things he wanted to run through before he ate anything, because food in his flute would just be nasty.
Glancing around at the sparsely-populated halls of Meadowview after school, Ian held his flute carefully in both hands as he walked up the hallway to the closest water fountain.
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Posted: Sun May 02, 2010 5:17 pm
Sports. It was Sydney’s area of expertise. She had always loved sports and moving about – as a child her body was always filled with bubbly energy. The same could be said for her older brother, her younger brothers, and even her father. Boundless energy and athleticism seemed to run on her dad’s side of the family.
She loped around the track in endless circles, silently counting the laps until they added up to two miles. Perspiration trickled down her neck and soaked the collar of her shirt. Spotting the end marker up ahead, Sydney swallowed the pain of the burning fire coursing through her body and pushed forward. Crossing the finishing line she heard the coach’s approving voice. “Keep up the work, Martin! Hit the showers, you’re done for the day.”
Sydney curtly nodded her head before treading to the locker rooms. Each breath she took she could feel strength slowly returning to her legs, could feel her heart easing back into its regular rhythm. She walked out in her usual clothes, shaking the water out of her hair.
She strode to her regular locker to retrieve her skateboard, but stopped in her tracks when she heard music notes being played. What a nice tune, she mused. With the curiosity of a cat, the redhead inched towards the source, briefly navigating through the maze of hallways. At the end of the trail Sydney found a bespectacled boy strolling down the hall, a gleaming flute pressed to his lips.
Her mouth formed an ellipse, silently admiring the melody that flowed from the instrument. After she finished marveling the piece the boy played, Sydney grinned and bounced up to him, firmly placing her hands on his shoulders. “That’s some swell flute playing! Are you in band, or something? How long’ve you been playing? What was the piece you were playing just now? Will you teach me how to play the flute?” Yup, just try to slyly tack on that last sentence that she’s been dying to say.
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Posted: Sat May 08, 2010 8:33 pm
Ian stopped by the water fountain with one hand pressed to the lever, the water running as he looked up to see the girl approaching him.
"Aah," he intoned confusedly, then leaned down to take a quick drink while his mind processed all of her questions. The water got into his dangling fringe on one side, and stuck the red hair to his cheek there; Ian straightened after a moment and raised the hand holding the flute (carefully so he would not knock the instrument against the fountain!) to brush the now-damp strands off of his face.
"I'm just in Concert One band," he replied, then using his free hand to wipe the rest of the water off of his lips and cheek, and froze, eyes widening, as the strange girl suddenly grasped his shoulders. "Been playing since middle school, though. And that was just my chromatic scale. I have my auditions for band placement for next year next Thursday, so I'm just practicing all the scales and stuff I have to know."
As for teaching her, "Uh, do you have a flute of your own?" He squirmed a little under her hands. "I just have mine, and it's got my spit in it." Spit was a fact of life in band, and Ian was hardly a germophobe, but the thought of sharing the instrument still did not sit well with him.
"I might not be such a good teacher anyway, because I am in just Concert One still after like four years. And I have scales to work on...." Ian did not want to seem either rude or weird by wiggling out of her grasp, but someone he did not know suddenly grabbing him like that did sort of make him nervous - it might have been obvious by the accelerando in his responses.
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Posted: Tue May 11, 2010 6:09 pm
Sydney blinked, blankly smiling at him. Yes, yes, because she totally knew what Concert One band was. Concert One is good, right? Because it’s number one!
“Middle school, huh? You must really like playing that . . . flute,” she remarked, almost forgetting the instrument’s name. She bit back the flood of question building up in her mouth. Sydney wanted to know more, more about this nameless musician and his pretty sounds. “I’ll pretend I know what achromatic scale is and just admire how dedicated you are to your instrument, and I do say that sincerely.”
Realizing his nervous fidgeting, she sheepishly smiled and released her grasp on his shoulders, muttering a small apology.
She threw him a confused look. Did Sydney seem the type that would be carting around an instrument of her own? Her eyes slowly trailed to the flute in his hands, silently wondering why she just couldn’t use his. Perhaps he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of her using his flute. “Erm, no, but I can borrow one?” she replied, her gaze locked onto the flute.
Her face scrunched up at his timid words. Sydney gently held his shoulders and rocked him back and forth. “If you’ve been playing since middle school, you’re good in my eyes, so believe in yourself more!” She stepped backwards, slowly gravitating towards the music room (“We’re gonna go to the music room, right?”).
Sydney smiled, undeterred. “Then just teach me how to do scales; learning how to play an instrument always starts there, right?” she suggested.
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Posted: Tue May 18, 2010 3:22 pm
Ian chuckled nervously and nodded like a bobble-head, holding his instrument in both hands. "Ah, thank you, thank you. It's a hobby, I do it for fun, but I don't really think I could play for a living." Maybe he liked history better, too, but being grabbed and shaken sort of put a damper on his ability to think, especially to do something like weigh his interests.
"So, um." He let go of the flute with one hand and reached up to very gently try to brush one of her hands off of his shoulders. "I don't know if they have extra practice flutes but they would be in the instrument locker room, if we want to head over that way to look?" Ian's words still came quickly, but he fought the powerful urge to just bolt out of her grasp.
"What is your name, by the way?" he then inquired. And, getting an idea, bowed ever so slightly to get out from under her hands as he introduced himself: "I'm Ian."
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Posted: Sat May 22, 2010 12:25 am
Awww. He’s nervous. That’s cute! Isn’t that cute? Sydney mused, unwaveringly staring into his red eyes with her own.
“Ha!” A short, huffy laugh. “I’m not exactly an expert on seeing what one could make a living off of, though it wasn’t what really what I was implying. Hm, oh well!” Her arm moved on its own, ready to jokingly smack the poor boy on the back, but she froze midway. Sydney wolfishly grinned, a proud gleam in her eyes. Wasn’t she so smart? At least she caught on quick enough. “Whether or not you become a professional musician isn’t important—“ She paused, pondering the words she had just spoken. “—although it’d be pretty cool. Anyways, as long as you keep playing, s’all good! It’s lovely. When you play, I mean.”
Sydney wasn’t sure what the purpose of what she just said was, but it seemed purposeful, so she strolled down towards the music room, arms casually folded behind her head. “Lucky~ I have no idea where else I’d get an instrument to practice with. Shall need to go buy myself one soon, eh?” she mused as she eased her way down the hall, walking backwards to remain face-to-face with the boy. “Ah! That’s right, huh? Sydney Martin! Pleased to meet cha, Ian.”
Backing into the music, she glanced around, wondering what kind of places an instrument could possibly hide. Sydney threw him a look. Where are the pretty flutes kept?
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Posted: Sun May 30, 2010 12:08 am
The junior looked a bit confused as she encouraged him to do it if he liked it, and tensed his shoulders in anticipation of the slap on his back that ultimately never came. Ian was not wholly sure what had prompted her words, and found it made him a bit more nervous about teaching her - did she really think that highly of him, when he had just been playing his scales? Would she be disappointed hearing him play actual songs? He did still have his prepared piece for the audition to work on ...
"Nice to meet you, too," he replied with a (slightly strained) smile before he turned to lead her back to the music room. Hoping that the obviously excited girl would not disturb the other students practicing in the music room, Ian held a finger to his lips to try to urge her to be quiet before he pushed the door open and held it for her. Then he pointed to another door along the same wall but on the opposite side of the conductor's podium.
The sign beside that door had a room number that no one really paid attention to, and was labeled 'Music Storage' above it on the little sign; the former had been filled in with black pen over the years, while someone had colored the words in with a pink highlighter much more recently.
"Spare flutes are on the top shelf in the little lockers just inside on the left," he told her, keeping his voice quiet as his eyes scanned the other students to be sure none of them looked too bothered. Ian was most likely worrying too much, as people talking in the music room after school was a fact of life, but still, he did not want to be the one causing a disturbance.
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Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 5:30 pm
Disappointed? How could she be disappointed at his playing abilities? Sydney would be disappointed if she turned out to be musically-disinclined. Now that would be truly disheartening! She frowned at the thought, her bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Then the redhead furiously shook her head and lightly smacked her face. Haha, what were the chances of that happening?! Right?
Sending her the universal symbol to be quiet, Sydney nodded her head in a wide, exaggerated motion. However, the longer she thought about the task the more difficult it seemed to be. She just did not like to shut up! Left with few options, she covered her mouth with one of her hands and bounced after Ian.
Silently admiring the artistic genius of the decorated sign, she glanced at Ian before looking up at the highest shelf. “Top shelf, okay!” Her voice turning muffled, Sydney’s hand slowly slid away.
She stretched out her hand, easily reaching for the lockers that Ian described. After a few moments of fumbling and groping, her clumsy fingers wrapped around the cool surface of a flute and she smiled triumphantly. Pulling back her arm, Sydney eagerly examined the silver instrument, admiring its simplistic beauty (and the fact that it was shiny).
“Hey, hey! By the way, do you practice out in the halls often? I don’t usually see people doing that, but that’s real cool! I think you should do it more because it’d be really nice to hear you play more. And, and it’ll help you practice in front of others, right? Right!” she inquired, her voice ranging from soft to normal back to soft, forgetting and remembering to remain quiet halfway through.
Curiously twirling the flute, she gently blew into the mouthpiece, wondering what kind of sound would come out.
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