(no subject)
Title: Forte
Characters: Karol Capel, Yuri Lowell
Notes: Part three of Harmony! A down-on-his-luck trumpeter gets a burst of confidence from someone he wouldn't expect it from and in the process makes a friend out of the tough-looking pianist, though he feels there's more to the man than he let on.
Good; good; good; sour. The teacher watched the boy passively as he scratched the back of his head, muttering an apology, and waved his wand in the air again. Good; good; good; good; go-- sour. The note fell short, and the trumpet stopped playing instantly, its owner flushing with embarrassment. After a moment of everyone staring at him, at what must be the most humiliating point of his life, the teacher sent him out with a wave of the baton, instructing him to practice outside until he got it right. Afterwards, you can rejoin the class and try again, Karol.
Karol sat grumpily outside, looking at his reflection in the brass instrument. He sighed and brought the mouthpiece to his lips, blowing air and letting a stale note float through the air. He flipped to the piece they were practicing and studied his part, pressing the valves on the trumpet as he'd been taught and playing the notes given. In the middle of it he stopped, laying the horn on his lap.
"I can do it when it's just me, but when I try to do it in front of the class..." He squinted his eyes shut, frustrated, and jumped when he felt someone sit down beside him.
"You freeze up?" Karol opened his eyes and stared at the man, way older than him with his dark hair put up in the back like a girl's, and nodded.
"Yeah... I can't help it, when all of those people just stare at me I feel like I'm being judged."
"Then you'll have a hell of a time during your concerts." The man shrugged and leaned back against the door. "Most of them are just there for the composer though, so don't sweat it."
Karol studied the other again, noting the messy appearance before finally realizing who it was and standing up, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
"Y-you're the bully!"
The bully looked at him confusedly for a moment, but his eyes were that of a predator's. Karol swallowed his fear and stood straight, shaking.
"I-I'm not a-afraid of you! You t-t-terrorize kids like me for their lunch money!"
"Which is why you're shaking all over, right?"
Karol tried not to let the tears spill over as the bully stood, towering over him easily. Then the guy slumped and chuckled, leaning against the building's brick wall. The younger boy stood perfectly still, wondering what the heck this guy was doing, and shuffled towards the entrance. The bully watched him a moment, then turned around and when into the Music Hall. Confused, Karol stood there a beat before picking up his stuff and running in after him.
"Aren't you gonna, I dunno, beat me up and take my money?" Not that he'd like to have been beaten up or anything, but usually tough guys like that would do that sort of thing by now.
"Nah, I have someone paying for my lunch and dinner these days." The weird guy shook his head, amused at something, and looked back down at Karol. "You got a name, kid?"
"U-uh, Karol! Karol Capel."
The man shook his head in disbelief and it was hard not to be offended when he spoke. "Your parents went through that trendy unisex name thing? Man, I feel kinda sorry for you."
"Yeah!? And what's your name, George?" He laughed, stopping at a door past the orcastra's room and peeking into the window of the door.
"It's Yuri, actually. I guess my mom was pretty cultural or something, but I don't really care. A name's a name, no matter where it comes from." Yuri looked in again, grinned, and knocked on the door.
"Isn't there a class going on in there?"
"Yeah."
"... That's all you're gonna say?"
"Yeah. Flynn's getting used to my visits, but I don't think the teacher's too happy about them." He knocked on the window this time, purposefully interrupting their playing from what Karol could see out of the sliver of glass, and a blond man looked in their direction with a frown. He motioned with a hand for them to leave, but Yuri grinned cheekily and waved back. When the teacher glared in his direction and Yuri stepped back in mock-fright Karol started to laugh, muffling the sound with the hand that wasn't holding the trumpet and sheets of music. Yuri gave another wave to who must be Flynn and moved away from the door, leaning on the wall instead.
"Think I got a chance to get in still, Kar?"
Karol shook his head, grinning when he realized he wasn't soa fraid of the man anymore. He wasn't gonna hurt him or nothing, and that was more than a relief for the kid. "Not a chance, Yuri. Did you see the way she looked at you? Hates your guts!" He snorted and Yuri grinned. "What do you go in there for anyways?" The man thought for a second, and shrugged, looking away.
"Change of pace, I guess. I'm not expected anywhere during this time of the day, so I usually like to go in and play a bit before lunch." But... That didn't make sense. All students had class during this time, whether they were older or younger. It must've shown on Karol's face, because he continued. "The teacher doesn't really care what we do in his class as long as we do our work first. Pretty easy stuff, and the old man's more interested in his mags than he is teaching. I'm supposed to be taking a leak, but I accidentally wandered over this way and decided to stop by." The look on Yuri's face told him that it wasn't an accident at all though.
"Yeah, and I was just sitting outside so I could enjoy the sunshine." Yuri laughed at that, and quieted down when Karol asked, "What do you play in there?" He regretted asking when he saw that it made Yuri a little uncomfortable, but the man shrugged and looked past him down the hall again.
"Piano. I'd play it if the rest of those guys were gone but," a peek into the Strings room, "it doesn't look like they're going anywhere." Long chords of music being played hummed in the air and Karol closed his eyes, listening to it. "It's just a habit to go down here though, I don't like playing that much." That made his eyes snap open and he looked up at the dark-haired man.
"Whaaat? I bet you're really good! Why not?"
"Because I don't like it. Why, does there have to be a reason for me not liking to play it? Do you like playing your trumpet?" It wasn't mean, but it made Karol look down at the brass woodwind, the curved metal disorting the hall around him.
"Sometimes," he admitted, feeling kind of bad about it. People didn't need reasons to do something, but Yuri had sounded different when he talked about playing the piano. Like there was a secret that went with it. "I'm not very good at it, so..."
Yuri ruffled Karol's hair, depsite the boy's protests, and pointed at the trumpet. "Even if you're the best at something you can improve. You just have a lot more work to do if you're bad at it. It helps to have some confidence, too." He grinned. "You can't be that bad, right? Play something."
Karol stood straight, a bit embarrassed because of the encouragement, and put his mouth to the mouthpiece, working the valves and his breath to play what he'd been practicing all week and could never succeed in playing in class. When he was through, Yuri clapped him on the back and grinned again.
"See? You're good. You just have to learn to be able to do that in front of your teacher and all."
Karol nodded and grinned back, feeling refreshed and pumped despite his past failures. He ran to the orcastra's door, giving Yuri a wave and a quick goodbye before racing inside and nervously playing the piece for his teacher, who nodded and sent him back to his seat. From the door, Yuri gave him a thumbs-up and walked away, to wait for that Flynn person Karol assumed. The teacher picked up the baton and gave it a wave, the music beginning with a roar of life.
Surging with pride, Karol played as loud as he could when it came for the trumpets to toot their horns.
Characters: Karol Capel, Yuri Lowell
Notes: Part three of Harmony! A down-on-his-luck trumpeter gets a burst of confidence from someone he wouldn't expect it from and in the process makes a friend out of the tough-looking pianist, though he feels there's more to the man than he let on.
Good; good; good; sour. The teacher watched the boy passively as he scratched the back of his head, muttering an apology, and waved his wand in the air again. Good; good; good; good; go-- sour. The note fell short, and the trumpet stopped playing instantly, its owner flushing with embarrassment. After a moment of everyone staring at him, at what must be the most humiliating point of his life, the teacher sent him out with a wave of the baton, instructing him to practice outside until he got it right. Afterwards, you can rejoin the class and try again, Karol.
Karol sat grumpily outside, looking at his reflection in the brass instrument. He sighed and brought the mouthpiece to his lips, blowing air and letting a stale note float through the air. He flipped to the piece they were practicing and studied his part, pressing the valves on the trumpet as he'd been taught and playing the notes given. In the middle of it he stopped, laying the horn on his lap.
"I can do it when it's just me, but when I try to do it in front of the class..." He squinted his eyes shut, frustrated, and jumped when he felt someone sit down beside him.
"You freeze up?" Karol opened his eyes and stared at the man, way older than him with his dark hair put up in the back like a girl's, and nodded.
"Yeah... I can't help it, when all of those people just stare at me I feel like I'm being judged."
"Then you'll have a hell of a time during your concerts." The man shrugged and leaned back against the door. "Most of them are just there for the composer though, so don't sweat it."
Karol studied the other again, noting the messy appearance before finally realizing who it was and standing up, trying to get as far away from him as possible.
"Y-you're the bully!"
The bully looked at him confusedly for a moment, but his eyes were that of a predator's. Karol swallowed his fear and stood straight, shaking.
"I-I'm not a-afraid of you! You t-t-terrorize kids like me for their lunch money!"
"Which is why you're shaking all over, right?"
Karol tried not to let the tears spill over as the bully stood, towering over him easily. Then the guy slumped and chuckled, leaning against the building's brick wall. The younger boy stood perfectly still, wondering what the heck this guy was doing, and shuffled towards the entrance. The bully watched him a moment, then turned around and when into the Music Hall. Confused, Karol stood there a beat before picking up his stuff and running in after him.
"Aren't you gonna, I dunno, beat me up and take my money?" Not that he'd like to have been beaten up or anything, but usually tough guys like that would do that sort of thing by now.
"Nah, I have someone paying for my lunch and dinner these days." The weird guy shook his head, amused at something, and looked back down at Karol. "You got a name, kid?"
"U-uh, Karol! Karol Capel."
The man shook his head in disbelief and it was hard not to be offended when he spoke. "Your parents went through that trendy unisex name thing? Man, I feel kinda sorry for you."
"Yeah!? And what's your name, George?" He laughed, stopping at a door past the orcastra's room and peeking into the window of the door.
"It's Yuri, actually. I guess my mom was pretty cultural or something, but I don't really care. A name's a name, no matter where it comes from." Yuri looked in again, grinned, and knocked on the door.
"Isn't there a class going on in there?"
"Yeah."
"... That's all you're gonna say?"
"Yeah. Flynn's getting used to my visits, but I don't think the teacher's too happy about them." He knocked on the window this time, purposefully interrupting their playing from what Karol could see out of the sliver of glass, and a blond man looked in their direction with a frown. He motioned with a hand for them to leave, but Yuri grinned cheekily and waved back. When the teacher glared in his direction and Yuri stepped back in mock-fright Karol started to laugh, muffling the sound with the hand that wasn't holding the trumpet and sheets of music. Yuri gave another wave to who must be Flynn and moved away from the door, leaning on the wall instead.
"Think I got a chance to get in still, Kar?"
Karol shook his head, grinning when he realized he wasn't soa fraid of the man anymore. He wasn't gonna hurt him or nothing, and that was more than a relief for the kid. "Not a chance, Yuri. Did you see the way she looked at you? Hates your guts!" He snorted and Yuri grinned. "What do you go in there for anyways?" The man thought for a second, and shrugged, looking away.
"Change of pace, I guess. I'm not expected anywhere during this time of the day, so I usually like to go in and play a bit before lunch." But... That didn't make sense. All students had class during this time, whether they were older or younger. It must've shown on Karol's face, because he continued. "The teacher doesn't really care what we do in his class as long as we do our work first. Pretty easy stuff, and the old man's more interested in his mags than he is teaching. I'm supposed to be taking a leak, but I accidentally wandered over this way and decided to stop by." The look on Yuri's face told him that it wasn't an accident at all though.
"Yeah, and I was just sitting outside so I could enjoy the sunshine." Yuri laughed at that, and quieted down when Karol asked, "What do you play in there?" He regretted asking when he saw that it made Yuri a little uncomfortable, but the man shrugged and looked past him down the hall again.
"Piano. I'd play it if the rest of those guys were gone but," a peek into the Strings room, "it doesn't look like they're going anywhere." Long chords of music being played hummed in the air and Karol closed his eyes, listening to it. "It's just a habit to go down here though, I don't like playing that much." That made his eyes snap open and he looked up at the dark-haired man.
"Whaaat? I bet you're really good! Why not?"
"Because I don't like it. Why, does there have to be a reason for me not liking to play it? Do you like playing your trumpet?" It wasn't mean, but it made Karol look down at the brass woodwind, the curved metal disorting the hall around him.
"Sometimes," he admitted, feeling kind of bad about it. People didn't need reasons to do something, but Yuri had sounded different when he talked about playing the piano. Like there was a secret that went with it. "I'm not very good at it, so..."
Yuri ruffled Karol's hair, depsite the boy's protests, and pointed at the trumpet. "Even if you're the best at something you can improve. You just have a lot more work to do if you're bad at it. It helps to have some confidence, too." He grinned. "You can't be that bad, right? Play something."
Karol stood straight, a bit embarrassed because of the encouragement, and put his mouth to the mouthpiece, working the valves and his breath to play what he'd been practicing all week and could never succeed in playing in class. When he was through, Yuri clapped him on the back and grinned again.
"See? You're good. You just have to learn to be able to do that in front of your teacher and all."
Karol nodded and grinned back, feeling refreshed and pumped despite his past failures. He ran to the orcastra's door, giving Yuri a wave and a quick goodbye before racing inside and nervously playing the piece for his teacher, who nodded and sent him back to his seat. From the door, Yuri gave him a thumbs-up and walked away, to wait for that Flynn person Karol assumed. The teacher picked up the baton and gave it a wave, the music beginning with a roar of life.
Surging with pride, Karol played as loud as he could when it came for the trumpets to toot their horns.