ARC ONE

adagietto
Origin: Italian
Rather slow, yet faster than an adagio

DISCLAIMER: The personalities and opinions of these characters do not represent those of actual idols themselves, the Juilliard students, the New York Philharmonic, or any of its employees. The Juilliard School is not responsible for the accuracy of information.

A/N: Also, thank you FadedMomo for letting me borrow the colloquial nickname Crack Squad to the nine TWICE members in this story <3

The Scherzo in Mahler Five has a bunch of glorious horn solos all throughout. Guess who'll be playing them in this chapter? :)

The Sixty-First Measure 

Friday: October 16, 2020

"Do you even realize how much I love you?"

We've been at it for an hour now — muddied in the complete tenseness of our argument. I sought the footsteps of a nurse stepping into my room, but then she pivots around and scampers away as if she hadn't seen the ing mess that Sana and I have become.

And then for some reason, she's on the same bed as me, curled up in the fetal position. I let her motionless body remain sprawled all over my bedsheets, making no effort to even save myself from the grief and agony that I'm going through. It was as if I was falling into the Abyss, hoping to drown in a dark, lonely hole at the end of the descending.  you, Minatozaki. Like you've encountered as much misfortunes as I had.

"Mina", Sana finally speaks, "I'm sorry."

I'm frazzled, "For what?" 

She wiped a single tear threatening to fall from her face, "I shouldn't be telling you what to do. I... I just didn't want to see anymore people die, at least not before I do."

I roll over my body to make eye contact with her.

"I'm so pathetic... aren't I?" I whispered to myself, planting my head into palms of my hands.

"No, you're not, Mina! Don't ever say that to yourself!", Sana's squeaky voice protests. She sat up in the same tall and confident manner, as she did in front of me when we battled it out during that sight-reading drinking game.

"But it's true!" I bellowed with my tiny voice, "I am pathetic! I grew up in a family! I endured The Six! I grew up with private teachers that made me feel like a bottomless piece of in turn! I'm such a piece of for leaving you and Nayeon and Chaeyoung!"

"Then if you’re pathetic, then I’m pathetic as well", Sana was on the edge of breaking into tears again, "I'm more pathetic than you! I don't have perfect pitch or an absolute ear. Hell, I don't even have my studies tied to my brain yet! I'm not some goddamn prodigy who learned how to play two octaves within one day! I'm so pathetic, it makes me feel even sicker than you!"     

I’ve never seen Sana act this stubborn before. It was like The Great Wall of China, standing in all its prosperity and narrative tradition, decided to collapse in all its fortifications of feeble stone, brick, and tampered earth. Sana was always someone who seemed to have resolve and courage, and it showed in her playing as well. But I’ve never seen her break down like this, at least not in the face of my own patheticism.

"W-Why aren't you mad at me for leaving you?" my voice quivered as I tried not to cry. 

"I thought that you had your whole life put together because you’re a musical prodigy and you live in a well-off family", Sana heaved a heavy sigh before explaining, "And then I heard about your dictatorial parents and I figured that we're not much different in terms of psyche. I just didn't want to look inferior to you, that's all. Now that I think about it that way, I don’t really have a right to be upset because I've been hiding something from you as well. So just to level the playing field, I’ll tell you my secret since you told me yours."

"Secret?"

"Remember when I moved away to San Francisco because my father was being stationed there as a part of his military job?" she began, toying with the plastic wristband on my left arm, "Well, life wasn’t so much better there than it was here. I got bullied a lot when I was a member of the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra. I was the worst horn player in the orchestra and I sat in the last chair of my section — in the back row."

I narrowed my eyes, "I find that extremely hard to believe."

"Really, Mina?" Sana stared at me in disbelief, "I was a laughing stock. I seemed substandard compared to Yoona, who sat freaking first chair."

"How did you even attain her horn?" I asked out of curiosity.

"I didn't actually grow close to Yoona until it was announced that she would undergo assisted suicide", I could see that Sana was trying to hold back even more tears and it made me look like a terrible person for asking that sort of question, "A-And then..."

"You know what, I should've not asked."

Sana meaningfully grasped my shoulders, biting her lip as she forced her eyes not to shed a single teardrop, "I know that death is a hard topic to come by, and I'm still not over the decision that Yoona has made to end her suffering from AIDS. But we're going to go through your hardships together. And by “we”, I mean me and Chaeyoung and all of the other Pops Orchestra members."

Her words hit me hard, like a bolt of thunder plunging down into the face of the earth. Hot, bitter tears began to pour down from my pale cheeks, dripping off my chin. I felt guilty for not staying in contact with Sana after she moved to San Francisco, even after shaking pinky fingers together. 

"S-Sana. I'm sorry again", I apologized, burying my head in shame, "It just came across my mind that I was such a bad friend back then."
 
Sana inched closer to my bed to put my trembling self in her full embrace, whispering softly to my ear, "I can't stay mad at you because if I keep holding a grudge against you, I'm going to regret it in the long run. I wish that I didn’t stay mad at Yoona for making that decision because I could’ve used the time to get to know her better and hang out with her, all before she.... you know, died."

"Death is not so much an inevitable person", I said, slumping my figure against the pillow that Nurse Sally gave me. 

"Indeed, he isn't", Sana responded back before attemping to lighten up the mood, "I’ve heard from Chaeng that you’re taking online ASL classes.”

“Yeah”, I nodded, “Wait, how did you even meet Chaeyoung?”

Sana's cheeks turned into a rosy pink, "Jihyo and Chaeyoung were the only ones who truly reached out to me and stood up for me whenever I got belittled by the other Youth Orchestra members. That's why I'm so overprotective — those two have inspired me to stand up for myself and others that I truly cared about. And the reason why I learned sign language was because I wanted to repay Chaeyoung for protecting me."

Jihyo holds out her hand, helping me off the ground, "Pay no mind to him. He's probably a Juilliard-reject."

Sana smiles, "Chaeyoung says that she was glad to help, especially after you defended her in rehearsals."

"Oh, no wonder you're so hardheaded", I sputtered out, instantly regretting it. But Sana just giggled.

"Mina, I apologize if I made you upset during the period that I got mad at you for laughing at Chaeyoung. I should've listened to you when you tried to explain the situation to me", She replied in a low voice, an odd quirk for such an energetic person like her, "You were laughing at Reina, and not Chaeyoung. Sorry for not catching that. I guess my excited energy got myself carried away. I'm sorry".

I smirked as I granted the tall girl a smack on the back, "Why are your thoughts about that situation lingering up to this day? I'm over that."

"I just wanted to get it out of my head."

All of a sudden, Sana reached for her coat pocket to pull out a piece of candy that she bought from a German confectionery store located nearby. It turned out to be Wiener Zuckerl, a type of Englhofer Viennese confit that resembles more of a fruit candy with a delicious filling that tastes like apricots, lemons, raspberries, pineapples, and mandarins. The making is kept as a secret and there is no official recipe released.

"Try it", Sana handed the piece of candy over to me.

"Are you sure?"

Sana gave me a content smile, placing the confection in the palm of my sweaty hand, "They say that candy is like comfort food: It soothes the mind and preserves it from bad thoughts. The Viennese people treat it as a specialty, as a form of medicine."

"Can they act as anti-depressants?" I quipped.

"I can't answer that."

"Thank you, anyways", I took the miniscule treat and popped it right into my mouth, "It's not bad."

"I'm glad that you liked it", She beamed at my reaction as she held out her warm hand for me to hold, "I'm having Chaeyoung bring your concert dress, musical score, and instrument case over here just in case the doctors allow you to leave for tomorrow's concert. She has my room key."

"Cool", I acknowledged, entwining my fingers with her fingers.

"Feel a little better now?" she pressed.

I shrug, "I'm not a hundred-percent sure."

"Goddammit Mina. You don't need the validation of other people to know your own worth", Sana finally says after turning down a notch.

"Hmm..." I mumbled low and inarticulately.

"So what if your parents or The Six leave you? Whatever makes you feel terrible, abandon it. Whatever makes you feel happy, keep it. Take care of yourself, love yourself for Christ's sake. You're not alone because you have me, Chaeyoung, and a bunch of other dorks in the JPO who care about you", Sana remains insistent on getting me up on my and appreciating myself — a mentality that I find increasingly hard for me to take on.

"You make it sound so easy when it's not", I murmured bitterly.

"I didn't say it was easy", she clarified, hands on her hips, "But anyways, Mina. Are you going to perform tomorrow?"

I'm shocked that Sana would even ask that. Normally, she'd bludgeon me into staying in bed so I can rest more. Maybe she wants me to play my bassoon. Maybe she wants me to make use of whatever time I have left with my hearing abilities. No, it's not that: Sana wants me to live. 

"Mina?" Sana calls me to attention.

"Huh? I mean— yeah!" I fumbled, "Yeah, I'm performing. That's if, I can get permission."

"Want me to talk to Dr. McIntosh for you?" Sana offered.

I hid a smile, "I'd appreciate it."

The Sixty-Second Measure

Saturday: October 17, 2020

Sana and I talk all night as if nothing had happened, so when I wake up the next day, I feel especially tired.

The morning scenery was spectacular; perfect for the first day of a competition. I watched from the ICU window as the large glowing sphere rose slowly into the dismal morning sky, casting sunbeams in every direction while it illuminated the metropolitan city of New York. Opening the window, I stared out at the glass panes as the colors made by the rising sun changed, growing more vivid with the passing time, making the sky more radiant as it climbed higher and higher into the blue. I had a gut feeling that today would be different from yesterday.

I received confirmation from Dr. McIntosh that I can leave the hospital to perform with the Juilliard Orchestra. Being told that assuaged me in a sense because not only am I aware of the fact that I'm losing my hearing, I'm positive that my parents are going to livestream this performance from the British Broadcasting Corporation's (BBC) website. There's no escaping that case.

Once Nurse Sally removed my nubbins and my IV needle, I led into one bathroom down the hallway, where I took a quick shower and changed from my hospital gown into regular clothes. Over the phone, Jihyo informed me that Chaeyoung and Sana would be waiting for me near the entrance, waving a hand to get my attention. Although I was a bit relieved to hear that I can go back to perform at the Juilliard Orchestra’s second concert of the season, I was still disturbed at the fact that my nurse indicated that I might not be able to pursue a music career after my hearing is completely gone. What exactly did she mean when she said that my chances were not very high? Did those words just spurt out of without consciousness or did she really mean it? That thought lingered in my head throughout our entire trek to the concert venue. 

The Juilliard Orchestra's second concert would be held in Carnegie Hall — a venue that is highly regarded as a must for musicians to make their name in New York City. If you ask a native New Yorker or a performing arts fanatic about how to get to Carnegie Hall, their usual reply would be to "practice" — practice your off because performing at Carnegie Hall isn't a right; it's a privilege. 

Before heading to our seats, I monitored the capacity of the concert hall's stage to see if Reina was within range. The three of us had arrived early and there weren't a lot of members of our orchestra that were present. In fact, we were one of the first ones along with a couple of other hardworking musicians including concertmaster Kai, who seems to be having a conversation with the conductor. Fortunately for me, Reina and the others were nowhere to be seen, allowing me to have some peace and calmness for the time between now and the beginning of tonight’s concert.

The Six must not know about my acoustic neuroma, especially after Reina snitched on me for missing one Music Theory class. 

That must be her form of revenge after I ratted her out.

Sana, Chaeyoung, and I chilled backstage so that we could have our own space, separated from the other orchestra musicians. Sana was working on Chaeyoung's makeup when I decided to take out my black concert dress from Chaeyoung's bag. I took a gander at it — a black laced dress with a V-neckline, three-quarter length sleeves, and a long black skirt delicate ruching throughout. Nice taste, Chaeyoung.

"Mina!" Sana called, motioning me to come up to the makeup table as soon as Chaeyoung got up, "Let me do your makeup!"

"I can do my own makeup", I urged. I don't want Sana to cake my face with makeup from freaking Etude House. I'm aiming to look like a poised, sophisticated musician in a professional orchestra; not some teenaged, rookie K-pop idol from a group that caters to girlish music. 

And she better not use any lip gloss.

"Pwetty Pwease", Sana begged. Chaeyoung nodded in agreement at this.

*sigh*

"Fine", I rolled my eyes, "But don't make me look stupid."

She nodded, suppressing her laughter at the word 'stupid', "I'll do it after you change."

After slithering into my dress, I sat on a stool facing the blonde girl, the mirror behind her. Sana had to adjust the chair to reach her height, making it easier for her to apply makeup. She first applied two coats of peach concealer and powder that matched my natural skin tone. I was lucky enough to recognize that Sana was smart enough not to apply lipstick. Must be because being a fellow wind instrumentalist, she wouldn't want my lips to be ruined by my reed. Instead, she only applied a slight amount of lip balm to ease my chapped lips. 

"Great! Now I need you to do me a favor and relax", Sana spoke as she held the eyeliner pen with , "Try not to move as much."

Proceeding with the eye makeup, Sana added brown eyeshadow, mascara, and black liquid eyeliner to highlight what she calls my “twinkling eyes”, while keeping its modesty at the same time. I couldn’t help but feel delirious when she began coat my eyelids with the eyeliner and dotted lumps of glittery eye shadow above. Then she punctuated a heap ton of mascara on my eyelashes and I could’ve sworn that I became temporarily blind. I closed my eyes throughout Sana’s cosmetic session. 

"What are the chances of me flourishing in a music career after my hearing is gone?"

"Not very hi—"

“Mina, wake up! Your makeup is done!”

I watched my reflection through the mirror. Sana didn't go too insane with my makeup. In fact, she made it as modest as possible, applying moisturizer to make my face smoother and more refined. I was also unaware of the fact that she tendrilled my red hair with a curling iron.

"Perfecto!" She rejoiced, giving herself a feel of accomplishment, "I'm going to rotate the stool so you're facing the mirror. If you didn't notice, I also worked on your hair. You can take a look at your makeup if you want to. Give me some feedback".

"Not bad", I smirked.

"Hey! You said that you didn't want to look stupid!" Sana crossed her arms, unappeased with my mundane reaction.

"Sorry, I'm just exhausted", I said, "At least I look mature."

"It's something, I guess?" Sana wondered as she brushed her disheveled hair, "So I don't have to change anything, do I?"

"Nope", I confirmed, "You wouldn't even have time to do your own makeup if I asked you to redo mine."

"Oh, shoot! You're right", she realizes her bedraggled self and begins preparing the items necessary for her hairstyling.

Sana becoming occupied had left me and Chaeyoung in the same space, alone. I don't think I've ever been face-to-face with Chaeyoung like this, at least not after she kissed me for Jeongyeon's dare. There was an uncomfortable silence in the room before any of us could spurt out a single word. Actually, Chaeyoung can't speak liberally, so that statement doesn't make sense. It was one of those uncomfortable silences where it felt like the sound of a fallen pindrop would make a big difference. We could've used sign language but I'm not exceptionally fluent at it yet.

What are we even supposed to be talking about?

I could ask her about what went on in Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals while I was gone. I bet they just practiced and practiced under Maestro Petrenko's watchful eye. Or I could ask Chaeyoung how she felt after kissing me that one evening. Are you stupid, Mina? There's no way in hell you'd be comfortable asking that question. I could ask about what she ate. You three ate breakfast together! At the concession stands! Or I could ask about the weather. Idiot. You were just outside. Or what her favorite color is. Lame. Or maybe just—

Hold up. Why can't I just ask Chaeyoung about how she goes through her life without hearing?

Okay. Now I seriously need to get a grip on sign language.

I whipped up my phone and texted the younger girl.

[Mina Myoui]: Can we talk?

Sitting across from me at the wide table fixated in the center of the room, Chaeyoung stared inquisitively at me.

[Son Chaeyoung]: Talk about what?

[Mina Myoui]: Did Sana tell you about what Dr. McIntosh told me?

[Son Chaeyoung]: About the acoustic neuroma? Of course.

Of course Sana would tell Chaeyoung. 

Chaeyoung is deaf. I'm about to become deaf. The concept just fits, like a crossword puzzle.

[Mina Myoui]: Why do you still want to become a music major if you're completely deaf?

Chaeyoung laughed at me.

[Son Chaeyoung]: lol what are you talking about? I can still hear :O

I narrowed my eyes.

[Mina Myoui]: Huh?

[Son Chaeyoung]: Hahaha. Not with my ears of course, but I can still listen to music with the rest of my body.

The percussionist mentions this and I think back to that time when she auditioned for the Juilliard Orchestra. She showed up barefoot, an oddity that most people (admittedly me) would consider absurd. But then over time, I've found out that Chaeyoung does this all the damn time — in Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals, in Pops Orchestra rehearsals, and wherever else she's asked to play.

[Mina Myoui] Tell me how.

[Son Chaeyoung]: Mainly my feet xD Sounds weird, right? But it helps me to perform better because my hearing aids alone don't get the job done all too well. And plus, I don't have any hearing aids right now because of well... ya know what happened. I'm not going to explain. But back to my point. When I'm barefooted, I can feel the vibrations from my toes and my heels running up my spine and into my brain. 

[Mina Myoui]: That's amazing, I think.

[Son Chaeyoung]: Yup :D

[Mina Myoui]: But don't you get discouraged sometimes? Like when you can't hear the instruments around you?

[Son Chaeyoung]: True but I also think that you're mistaken :) 

[Mina Myoui]: Why?

[Son Chaeyoung]: Losing my hearing has allowed me to gain a deeper understanding of music.

[Mina Myoui]: But you're a percussionist, though. It's easier for you to make connections with the earth. I don't think I can do that.

[Son Chaeyoung]: Of course you can. Just not in the same way as I do, of course.

[Mina Myoui]: What do you mean?

My phone died. I haven't been able to charge it while I was hospitalized.

I take a quick glance at Chaeyoung, itching for an answer. But she just gestures to me as a way of saying, "Who knows?"

Sana finishes her makeover and swivels in her chair, throwing an amusing face at both of us, "You guys are texting each other in the same room?"

Chaeyoung and Sana have the rest of their chat using the sign langauge and I don't bother to spell out their hand movements in my head. I'm too fatigued from sleeping for too long and I need a good rest before dress rehearsal begins at 10 a.m. I put my head down on the makeup table as not to mess up my hair. After I'm comfortable enough to take a power nap, I close my eyes. 

The Sixty-Third Measure

Dress rehearsals end on a high note and all I have to worry about is the concert that follows afterwards. Me, Sana, and Chaeyoung met with Jeongyeon and "The Crack Squad" to eat In-N-Out in the lobby and this time, my hamburger was done right. Nayeon and I are still on awkward terms, but we seem to slowly mend our relationship after she poked fun at me for dousing my fries in Heins ketchup. After dinner, Sana and I had to sprint to the bathroom and wash out our mouths before tuning our instruments. But whatever, that's a different story.

Now I'm standing with my fellow musicians at the stage of the Issac Stern Auditorium, the largest performing space in Carnegie Hall, receiving an astounding yet welcoming applause from the audience. Maestro Petrenko had made his marvelous entrance, bearing the title of director of the most decorated orchestra on earth. I've stood on the auditorium's Ronald O. Perelman stage countless times in my career, mainly to perform various concertos with either the New York Philharmonic or other guest orchestras like the American Symphony Orchestra (ASO), the New York Youth Symphony (NYYS), or the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America (NYO-USA). But the pressure and adrenaline of having to perform in one of the most prestigious concert halls in the world never failed to leave me petrified. I'll always subject to the demanding and bloodcurdling opinions of the rich concert-goers, the nit-picking classical music magazine critics, the penetrating newspaper workers...

And of course, my mom and my dad.

The 4-7-8 method. Inhale through my nose to a mental count of four, hold my breath for a count of seven, and exhaling through my mouth to a count of eight. Rinse and repeat.

I in a deep breath, knowing for a sure thing that Sana is somewhere in the row behind me and that Chaeyoung is at the uppermost platform of the stage with the other percussionists. She's barefooted again but the tall backs of the brass players obscure her cute little feet. Jeongyeon and her minions of the "Crack Squad" (Nayeon, Momo, Jihyo, Dahyun and Tzuyu) are situated in the topmost row of seats on the most elevated balcony. They must be exhausted from having to climb up one-hundred and thirty-seven steps after overindulging on junk food.

My vision is blurry because of the excessive amount of mascara that Sana had applied to my eyelashes, therefore making it even tougher for me to skim through my sheet music. I gaped at my bassoon, sitting in the tight clasp of my small hands, waiting for me to make magic within its eight feet-long coiling. I deliberately whispered to my instrument before Maestro Petrenko rose his baton, Hear me out, okay? I need you tonight. 

Let the concert begin.

Polovstian Dances was first-up on the list. Alexander Borodin knew how to use every instrument in the orchestra to bring his compositions to life. In this short yet sweet section from his opera Prince Igor, he made the flutes tweet like birds and the double reeds chirp like crickets. The strings represented the eastern horizon as the beauty of the sun offered its enchanting golden light.

But this is all the calm before the storm.

The percussion instruments roll in like a burro making its way around the mountains. Himchan's snare roll matches the angry, marching tone of the song just fine. I smiled when Chaeyoung did the cymbal crashes at the right moments. She's getting more accustomed to playing without hearing.

I've heard Chaeyoung play before, in Pops Orchestra rehearsals with timpanist Jeongyeon and the other percussionists. And when she gets accustomed to the playing environment, she sounds fantastic. Percussionists don't get appreciated as much as other instrumentalists because common people would think that their instruments are way too easy to play. But they don't realize that percussionists add texture and vitality to an ensemble and without them, there would be no life. And plus, percussionists must master not one, but many instruments and use separate techniques to alter the sound in anyway possible. They're like mad scientists — always innovative and finding ways to reinvent their playing styles.  

There is a surprising amount of technique involved in any percussion instrument. Cymbals sound different depending on where you hit them, how hard, and at what angle. They can also be bowed like a violin in more experimental pieces. Even a triangle has advanced techniques like syncopated muting. Cymbals are one of the most unforgiving instruments. You are called upon to play in the most important spots with perfect timing and if you screw up, it's immediately noticed. Fortunately, Chaeyoung doesn't mess up. She plays thunderously and with this heated vigor.

The strings get madder and madder. The brass section simulate the sounds of rolling thunder and their vigor just burns my skin. 

Then the exultant piece transitions into a glorious timeline that is Mahler's Fifth Symphony. Its pivotal moments include the indicative yet potent trumpet solo in the beginning, the dominant horn solos in the third movement, and the widely-acclaimed fourth movement — the Adagietto. Commencing the Trauermarsch (Funeral March) was JB on the trumpet. His tone is docile and unexaggerated yet he rings of brightness in the same form as a warning call, whatever it may be. I didn't expect much worse until the defeaning brass came in out of thin air, canceling out my hearing and giving me a mild vertigo throughout. The term "Funeral March" really brings out its name at the appropriate occasion. 

Goddammit. Why didn't I bring ear protection?

As soon as the first movement resolved into the second movement, sitting in front of the trombone section really proves to be a hindrance to my hearing abilities. Normally, I've been okay with my section being placed in front of either the trumpets or the trombones. That's if I don't get whacked in the head by a slide or even worse, receive an earsplitting fortissimo. Other than that, I'm usually not bothered with the brass section.

Until today.

Next thing I knew, my hearing was gone for the entirety of the second movement. My tinnitus returns without warning, droning out the surrounding sounds and giving me this nonstop, high-pitched ring like someone blowing a whistle in my ear. What's even scarier is that I can't even hear the sound of my own bassoon. I tried not to panic and just play as written on the score, but then my vertigo remains and the notes stippled the bars begin to distort into a jumble of spiders or whatnot. Blowing constantly into my reed only proceeds to hurt my head even more. 

Was I not ready to leave the hospital yet?

The orchestra quiets down in the short break between the second and third movements. I partly regain my hearing, just in time for the Scherzo.

The third movement is just perfect for Sana Minatozaki — the numerous horn solos are lively and powerful and gay. It's the shifting of darkness to light. My music history professor speculates that Mahler wrote this movement during a romantic period in his life, as if it were a confession of love.

Whatever the heck that means.

I shook off the thought and placed the reed on my lips again. The Scherzo starts out lighthearted with its loud and jubilant waltzes initiated by none other than Sana herself, tossed in with the woodwinds tooting like toy trains. The atmosphere is all cutesy and merry until the horn calls everything to a halt and the B theme comes into play — a nostalgic Austrian dance between what could've possibly been Mahler and his future wife, Alma Maria Schindler. I'm just hypothesizing things based off what I've learned in class. My music history professor is such a hopeless romantic.

Sana is kind of a hopeless romantic too, now that I've mentioned it.

The orchestra spirals down into what Kai calls the "epic sound-off" between the charming, overweighing horns and the trembling strings and the awkward woodwinds (a.k.a. me). And then the sound of Sana's French horn takes command again and again and again like a beast on its own, ruling over the roost, laying down the law. In an idealistic relationship, the horns would be the more dominant partner, just like Mahler.

Mina, focus.

The Scherzo comes back again, as if it's never been away. I'm given another rest in between movements and all I could hear was the soft, flowing sound of the Sana's melody as she let it envelop her soul with its warm tone quality. Every note soared like an elegant swan flapping its white wings in synch with the gentle breeze, like a skilled dance partner on the ballroom floor. I'm floored at how calm the soloist is. Sana plays sweetly yet so powerfully, as if nothing can barge into her path. Even if she knew that fatigue was inevitable, at least she'll play with dignity rather than flatly escaping. She was ready to face the inexorable danger, not knowing whether or not she's going to collapse in the middle of the performance from all of those solos. Wow, I actually do admire Sana. I could never muster up the courage to play so boldly and—

Mina, seriously. You need to focus.

The coda, in my opinion, is considered the most difficult among the themes. The tempo is much faster and more demanding as opposed to the mushy and mild-sounding waltzes from earlier. This requires more articulation and proving a great deal of lip trills on the brass front. Jesus Christ, Sana is so good. The supposedly horn-sounding thing turned out to be that golden, expensive- instrument handed over to her by Yoona. Sana wielded is in her cushy hands like a weapon, the grieving instrument shouting out its harsh, penetrating voice in which the player expressed her anguish and misery. Her tone was so somber, yet so severe and compelling that it was forcing my feeble character to bring out my tear-jerking senses to life. Damn you, Sana. Damn you, Sana. Damn you, Sana. God ing dammit, Sana. 

How can a young girl like her manage to play so beautifully? Even I'm not capable of evoking such emotions, not like her at least.

"DON'T YOU EVEN DARE THINK ABOUT KILLING YOURSELF!"  

No.

"Dammit Mina, I'm not going to lose another friend to death." 

No.

"Do you even realize how much I love you?"

Sana, why...?

Now I’m clearly distraught by something, tears ebbing down my rosy cheeks with every passing note of melancholy from Sana. Why? Why am I such a terrible person? I didn't mean to hurt Sana's feelings like that. Playing the same damn horn as her idol must be torture because she's gone.

Come the Adagietto and my feelings become a mess. It is the shifting of light to to even more light. Mahler wrote this movement as a melancholic love letter to Alma Schindler. In addition, the Adagietto can also be made to showcase such heart-wrenching moods, and performances at extremely slow tempos can be touching to the hearts of audiences and players alike. This idea of the Adagietto may have arose in the autumn of 1990, after Leonard Bernstein's death when orchestras around the world added this movement to their programs in his memory.

The fourth movement is Mahler's most famous composition and the poignant strings bring the embodiment of life and death. Figure skater Ekaterina Gordeeva used it for her routine at the 1996 "Celebration of Life", Luchino Visconti used it as a soundtrack for the film, Death in Venice. 

Music is so beautiful.

The Adagietto, written in the sense of a tragic love story, acts as a haven of tranquility in the vitality of Mahler's Fifth Symphony. Its placid melody and subdued ambiance moved me instantly. Such is the beauty of life and song. I don't want to die yet, not while I still have my hearing. If I die now, I won't be able to hear anymore of Sana's playing and that disheartens me. I think I'll stay a little longer to revel in the sensation of music.

Sana is right. I can't leave this world yet, not while I still have my hearing intact.

The fifth and final movement of this symphony, Rondo-Finale, resembles a big happy finale for Mahler and his lover, in comparison to the beginning movements where the mood is serious and grim. Sana makes her comeback with her happy-go-lucky, loud-as-hell horn. And then comes in my bassoon before switching back to the horn, and then my bassoon again along with the clarinet and the oboe in between. In rehearsal breaks, Chaeyoung would make fun of the fact that Sana and I were the epitome of Mahler and his wife just because we switched off solos. I found her analysis ridiculous because the bassoon sounds nowhere close to a woman's voice. If anything it would've been a gay love story — man on man.

Why am I even thinking about this?

Mina, you need to concentrate. But how can I concentrate when I feel this delirious?

The finales are usually the best part of any symphony, especially this one. I could hear how the voices come in one all at a time with their own melodies. The brass section sounds dynamic and divine, the woodwinds are graceful and delicate, and the strings and nimble yet balletic. Chaeyoung's lively cymbal crashes are precise and paramount. Sana's heroic horn playing is intense and expressive. Most members of our orchestra would not acknowledge this but if it wasn't for these two girls running this orchestra, everything would've been a disaster. They bring exceptional qualities even though they originally hailed from the underrated Pops Orchestra. And they may not have won as many awards or have been acknowledged by preeminent reviewers or masses, but in my eyes, they're some of the best performers I've ever seen. They don't play according to detail.

Even better.

They perform with blood and passion. 

I want to become more like them.

The Sixty-Fourth Measure

Sunday: October 18, 2020

The next day, I woke up in a daze as I laid on the bed of the Intensive Care Unit, rubbing my cloudy eyes to receive a perspective of what I'm looking at. At that moment, I knew that I would still be holed up in this damn institution because I was alone, my left hand was hooked up to another 20 gauge peripheral IV line that transmitted fluids unknown to my disoriented self, and there were bleeping sounds resonating within the machinery placed around the room. I also realized that I wasn't wearing my black concert dress, but rather I was wearing the medical center’s signature sky-blue hospital gown. My nostrils were attached to oxygen nubbins that hung around my ears, the tubes leading to a BiPAP machine that regulated my breathing patterns. 

"What's going on?" I sleepily asked a different nurse who was adjusting my oxygen tank.

"Your friend, Sana or whatever, called the emergency hotline, therefore we brought you here by ambulance", She replied.

I cocked my head, "I don't even remember passing out."

"Of course you don't!" the nurse said, "At least you fainted offstage. You were having vertigo. Must've been from the loudness of the orchestra and the audience combined. And plus, you sit in front of the trombones and their bells are always pointed behind your ears so... yeah."

I scratched my head before coming to a realization that I was going to miss the Juilliard Orchestra’s pit performance with the Dance Division, "Wait, can I go back to school? I have another performance for tonight. I have to perform Swan Lake and the Rite of S—”

"Oh, no, no, no. That's impossible!" The nurse protested, her eyes exhibiting an impression of worry, "The doctors need to perform some tests on you before you can leave. You were in a horrible condition last night and we can't just let you off the hook. Dr. McIntosh declared that we're going to keep you here for a few days before he permits you to leave".

A few days?

"But I need to practice!" I moaned, "I can’t miss any more days of school."

"I'm sorry but I can't let you do that", She gave me an apologetic expression before leaving the room, "I don't have the jurisdiction to authorize your leave. You'll just have to skip school as well as that performance that you just mentioned."

I opened my mouth for another protest, "But—"

The moment the nurse closed the door shut, my rosy cheeks were b with endless tears, worried stiff about not being able to practice as well as stressing about my parents throwing spiteful comments at me for missing an important performance. I couldn't do anything to prepare, as my score was left on the desk near the window of my room, along with my bassoon case being placed beside my bed, waiting for its owner to pick it up and play. Eventually, my current state was reduced to instances of coughing fits, with mucus climbing up my respiratory tract and lingering in my throat, making my voice sound scratchy and extremely gruff.

*sigh*

After lunch, Nurse Sally informed me that I would go through a chest radiograph to identify the problems with my breathing, and then another CT scan to monitor the growth of my tumors. Because I couldn't stand up, the doctor had to carry out the procedure with the X-ray plate above my figure. Once they finished examining my body, I was permitted to return to the ICU, watching episodes of stupid comedy series like The Big Bang Theory or How I Met Your Mother, all on the small television set at the corner of my room as I waited for my results.

In the hospital's conference room, a group of doctors, social workers, and nurses gathered around a large, rectangular table to address my illness. With a solemn look on his face, Dr. McIntosh entered the room as he placed the X-ray of my brain face-down in the center of the table, pointing to two huge blobs located on the somewhere in my nervous system. I sat in the middle of this entire discussion.

"The tumors became bigger", He strongly declared, "Mina, you need to make your decision now about whether or not you'll undergo this surgical process."

The Sixty-Fifth Measure 

Visiting hours for patients have opened. 

Once the evening hits, I'm no longer worried about missing that pit orchestra performance with the dance division. (1) I've managed to dodge The Rite again, (2) My parents wouldn't even be able to locate me since the orchestra is in the pit and the stage belongs to the dancers, (3) This production is not being broadcasted by BBC and my parents can't livestream this performance due to copyright, and (4) They probably don't even know about this spontaneous performance, so they're not even going to try and watch it.

Sana and Chaeyoung were the first ones to visit. Before leaving the join the rest of the Juilliard Orchestra members for tonight's work, they dropped off dinner for me — a homemade Japanese-Korean fusion bento meal formulated by the two of them at Chaeyoung's apartment complex. The box consisted of shrimp and vegetable tempura, deep fried mandu, chicken teriyaki, Korean mochi rice cakes, salmon sashimi, and this Korean confectionary that Chaeyoung calls Hangwa. Their simple meal tasted better than anything I've ever had at a fancy, Michelin star restaurant.

Sana and Chaeyoung could open up a dining joint and I would become a regular customer.

SinB was my next visitor, and she showed up to my room in ballet slippers and a dazzling white tutu and corset under her beige winter coat. I nearly forgot that she was in Juilliard's dance division. I'm honestly thankful that SinB would squeeze in some time to visit me before her big performance tonight. Before SinB left, she said something about working even harder so that she could function at the same level as me and her friend, Yerin. I felt even more touched that she would say that, especially since I couldn't give her a lesson today since I was in the hospital.

Minutes after SinB leaves, Sowon and the other fanclub members come by to drop off even more food for me — macarons, cupcakes, assorted candies, Yerin even baked a chocolate cake. A ing cake. It tasted great of course, but the cake was more than what my stomach could take in.

Lastly, Jeongyeon and the "Crack Squad" came in thirty minutes just before visiting hours had closed. They all pitched in to make me a care package and Dahyun came up with the eccentric idea of buying me an oversized Pororo plushie, just so that I have a buddy "to sleep with." I had to laugh at that statement. I've never slept with a single stuffed animal in my entire life, not even when I was four.

"Are you going to finish that cake?" Momo eagerly gawks at my unfinished dessert sitting on my bedside table.

"Momo! We're not here to ravage Mina's stuff!" Nayeon scolds, flicking the hungry violinist's forehead.

"You can have it", I said.

"Gee, Minaring. Thanks!" Momo doesn't even pause for a second and takes the entirety of Yerin's chocolate cake in a heartbeat.

Most of their visiting minutes were spent talking about random topics and Jihyo updating me about what I missed at Pops Orchestra rehearsals. They have announced the date of their opening night — November 19th, one month from now. The reason being is because they were having trouble finding a children's choir and an adult choir for My Neighbor Totoro when Nozomi Bando, one of the violists, showed that she has connections with the Tokyo National Children's Chorus and the Professional Japanese Choral Association.

"So where is our concert going to be held?" I ask. 

"The Metropolitan Opera House", Jeongyeon answers casually.

"The Met—" I raised my eyebrows, "How in the world are you guys going to fill up a 3,800-seated venue?"

"Oh, Mina. Don't worry about it! We've already sold out tickets that night", Jeonyeon ensures, laughing heartily, "Our purchasers include our families, our friends, the non-musician members of your fanclub, the cute little kids and their relatives from the Special School of Music that Chaeyoung brought up to us one night, the parents of the chorus children, and some other random guests and classical magazine critics."

"Nayeon is keen in advertising and she's the face of our orchestra", Jihyo compliments.

"That's awesome, Nayeon", I smiled.

The clarinetist turned her face away from me, probably because she was blushing, "Thanks... Mina."

Momo talks with full, "Wow, you shoo are shill awkward even up to thish day." (Wow, you two are still awkward even up to this day) 

"Anyways, Mina. Thanks to Sana, we knew about your important decision to make regarding your brain tumors", Jihyo brings up in a calm and gentle tone, "Don't worry about the cost of your hospital dues because we're going to pay for it. The eight of us plus every single member of your fanclub pitched in to raise money for your surgery, knowing how important it is that we'd keep it as discretely as possible from your parents."

"No matter how expensive it is. We're going to pay for every single dime", Tzuyu grinned.

Realizing this, I hung my head low as to not show tears, "You guys, I feel bad."

"Mina", Nayeon breathes, slowly putting a hand on my shoulder, a gesture that woos everyone in the room, "Your life will always be more valuable than money. None of us want you to die, even me. You've made it this far in your career and it would be wrong to take your life away from you." 

"She's right, Mina", Jeongyeon beams, "Just let us do this for you. We're doing this because we want to."

I'm seriously about to cry now. I wasn't absolutely sure that I deserved this kind of treatment after The Six and I have avoided and made fun of the Pops Orchesra for years. I don't even deserve to be consoled by Nayeon, whom I left out of fear. I let the tears soak up my chest.

"Oh no, Minaring is crying!" Momo drops her plastic fork and starts to run up to me with a hug.

"Awwww... don't cry! We love you, Mina!" Jihyo's sweet-sounding voice hummed into my head.

Nayeon my wine-colored hair, strands coming together as if the distance between us came to a close.

"Please don't die, Mina", Nayeon begs, also breaking down into tears, "You're such a beautiful girl with so much potential waiting for you in the near future. Your bassoon playing is so compelling, and it's really sad how your parents don’t appreciate your true talent. I love the deep, mellow sound of your bassoon; people have been telling you to play more accurately and without error, but what you can do is already good enough. Your style of playing is more fascinating than the plain, clean songs I hear from professionals; you have an honest sound. Don't let people try to change you for who you are, not even your parents, because it's not healthy in the long run. You need to do what makes you happy; you need to take care of yourself. I'm sorry for being so hostile to you when you left me. Please forgive me. I can’t imagine a life without you and your music."

At that point, I bursted into a waterfall of tears trickling down my dreary face. All of the "Crack Squad" members pulled me into a tight embrace. Nayeon, who was already within close proximity to me, pulled my mourning self closer to her chest, allowing me to sob into her cotton sweater that had soddened up my salty tears. Nayeon is right. I can't let myself go after coming so far and making so many achievements.

"Okay", I told them, "I'll go with the surgery, even if it means that I'm going to lose all of my hearing."

BONUS (Thank Goodness)

Meanwhile at the David H. Koch Theater, Sana and Chaeyoung were in the pit orchestra preparing for tonight's performance. The two girls kept running back and forth from the move-in trucks to transfer the percussion instruments. After all of the hard work they did, they decided to wind down backstage with SinB, who was doing some stretching exercises on the floor when her phone started to ring. 

"Who is that?" Sana asked the dance major.

SinB stares at the caller ID, "It's Jihyo. According to Sowon, I think they're at the hospital visiting Mina."

Sana is wide-awake at the calling of Mina's name, "Oh! Answer it!"

SinB interludes her stretching regimen, does what she is told and puts her smartphone up to her ear. Sana and Chaeyoung are crowding around the ballerina as they're extremely eager to hear news from Jihyo about Mina. Sana is also preparing to translate for Chaeyoung.

"Hello?" SinB answers.

"You guys! I'm so happy right now!" Jihyo's emphatic voice rings through SinB's ear. 

"What? What is it?" SinB speculated that Jihyo was crying.

"Mina made her decision! She's going to have her brain tumors removed!" Jihyo rejoices, "She's not going to die! I repeat, she's not going to die!"

"HOLY CRAP! HALLELUJAH!" SinB exulted, flinging her arms in the air with contenment and nearly dropping her phone. This shocks Sana and Chaeyoung. "Th-That's just wonderful news! I'm so proud of her! I can't wait to tell Sana and Chaeyoung about what Mina told you guys."

"Mina told you what?" Sana was getting angsty.

"Sh-She's going with the surgery", SinB's croaked.

Sana hears this and she immediately tells Chaeyoung. Both girls are trying to hold back their droplets of joy, but then they all begin b with them. Raining in tears, the three girls celebrate with a large hug and start laughing at each other for crying.

"Thank god. Thank god", Sana choked up her words, with a smile that could shake up the universe.

A/N: HORRAY FOR MINA!

Hope that you guys have enjoyed reading so far! Let me know in the comments below about what you guys think of this chapter! Do you like the Juilliard Orchestra's music? All of Sana's epic solos spread throughout? There's a symbolic meaning as to why I specifically chose Mahler's Fifth Symphony as the performance piece. And there is also a reason why I assigned Mina, Sana, and Chaeyoung their instruments. 

Are you also looking forward to the Pops Orchestra's opening night? The Metropolitan Opera House is HUGE. Just in case some of you haven't noticed, text highlighted in blue indicates a link to the music that is played in the story so you guys can live out the full experience of being incorporated as an overseer of Mina and the others ;) Take care and look forward to my next update!

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