ARC ONE

intimo
Origin: Italian/Latin
Intimately

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.

The Seventy-Third Measure

Saturday: December 12, 2020

A stroll in the cold winter morning seemed brisk and refreshing as feather-like snowflakes gently my icy cheeks. The wind tossed the snowflakes with more force against my face, but it didn't deter me from walking. Within a matter of time, the playful, frisky wind turned into a snarling beast, hurling tiny pellets of pain at my stinging cheeks. I usually catch colds around this time and I know that I will eventually. Winter in New York City was always like this but no matter what, the citizens had no choice but to persevere because time wouldn't wait them. You still had to show up to your classes, your meetings, and your appointments on schedule. For me, I still had to practice no matter how chapped my lips were, no matter how frozen my fingers were, or no matter how sick I was. There's a famous Japanese proverb that my parents shared to me since I was little.

It goes like this: 

Nodo mo to sugireba atsusa o wasureru, or in translation, "You forget the heat once it's down your throat." 

I was happy to have reached the entrance of the lobby of the Columbia University Medical Center. Twice a month, I would go back to the hospital for check-ups. Dr. McIntosh and his team had me undergo more physical therapy to check on my balance progress, and then they would put me under an MRI to survey the growth of the tumor on my left hearing nerve, which hasn't been removed yet because Dr. McIntosh is waiting for the appropriate moment to remove it safely and humanely. He predicts that my next surgery would be in either February or March. 

"Looks like you've lost ninety-percent of your hearing in your right ear", Dr. McIntosh claims after one of his team members reported the results of my hearing exam, "It won't be too long until you completely lose all of your hearing in that ear."

"Wonderful", I sarcastic response underlies my cold breath. And I have my music jury in two days too.

The Seventy-Fourth Measure

Sunday: December 13, 2020

I hadn't had a proper sleep in days. The bags under my eyes are starting to become glaringly obvious.

Little did I know that Café Fiorello was a popular joint for New York Philharmonic and Metropolitan Opera musicians in the evening, who on their way to rehearsals would drop by and eat a quick meal before they head out to work. Apparently, Maestro Gilbert would also escape to this facility to grab a quick cup of coffee in between Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals breaks, or so waitress Jeongyeon reiterated to me one day. 

Unlike that one night when I ate out with Jennie Kim, today the cafe was jam-packed with customers latching onto instrument cases of diverse sizes. They were all NY Phil musicians energizing and filling themselves up to prepare for what would be a long night's rehearsal, most likely in preparation for the Parisian Winter Music Festival taking place in two weeks. My parents sat at the rear end of the cafe, in which waitress Sana Minatozaki had situated them in a hilariously small table with those velvet-lined booths occupied by previously crummy customers. 

Oh, right. I also forgot to mention that Jeongyeon had hooked up Sana with a part-time job at this institution. The poor girl had been afflicted with forty-thousand dollars in debt from rising Juilliard tuition fees, so she had to take up a second job to suffice her liability.

I'm heading for my seat when a nervous Sana whirrs by and yells a quick yet shaky "hi" to me, realizing that she had offered that second-rate table to my parents — two of the NY Phil's principal players and some of the most respected figures in the classical music realm. I found her unintentional gimmick to be outright side-splitting, but my mom and dad weren't amused in the slightest, to say the least.

"Mina, you're late", my mom punctuates.

"I know. Got too caught up with practice", I admitted. I'm actually telling the truth this time. Minyoung and I spent hours in the practice room preparing for our final exams and juries, which will happen starting tomorrow. I'm scheduled to have my jury on Monday, five days before The Ball. 

"At least you're focused on your exams", my dad aforementioned, "We're expecting you to score in the top percentile."

"Yeah, I bet", my voice came out exasperated.

"Sit down, daughter", father commands, "We have something important to talk to you about."

I obey and slide into the seat in front of my dad, shifting my bassoon case under the table. My eyes graze through the menu and land upon the same American Cheeseburger & French Fries platter that I ordered last time. I contemplate twice before making my decision, knowing that my mom would make a crude remark about my weight had I ordered a meal with a high fat content and calorie count, even though I weigh ninety-four pounds (43 kg) and stand at a height of 5'3" (163 cm). Since finals had come close, I haven't been eating as adequately as I should on a daily basis and Dr. McIntosh even commented about my lack of nourishment during my check-up yesterday.

"One lobster caprese, one tuna tartare, one veal chop parmigiana, then for drinks, one caffè americano, one chestnut latte, and one coconut milk macchiato", waitress Sana takes our order with compliant smile, pretending not to know who I am and treating me just like any other customer.

"I asked for veal chop milanese, not parmigiana", my mom corrects coaresely.

"I'm very sorry about that, ma'am", Sana scribbles out her mistake, that same well-trained smile still playing on her face, "Milanese it is then."

"I can't believe that we have such a ditzy blonde girl as our waitress", my mom grumbles under her breath as Sana walks away and gives our order to the cooks. My mother treats our waitress like one of our servants. She clearly forgotten who Sana was. She clearly didn't care who Sana was..

"Honey, tell Mina about what you wanted to talk about", my father suggests my mom.

"Oh, right", she remembers and turns back to me, "I'm fully aware that the Juilliard Orchestra will be performing Ravel's Piano Concerto in G and SIbelius's Fifth Symphony at the Parisian Winter Music Festival, the day after the New York Philharmonic. Your father and I will be watching from the crowds, since we didn't get to watch any of the Juilliard Orchestra's performances two months ago due to our touring schedule."

I heaved out a sigh of relief. That month where my parents didn't watch the Juilliard Orchestra was the same month that I was hospitalized.

"Don't get too relaxed, Mina. Your mom and I can hear you when you play", my dad warns, nonchalantly sipping his strong cup of caffé americano.

"We didn't forget about Jolivet's concerto back in October", mom brings up in a stern manner, "Your performance was good, but I thought that it could've been better. That high G was too muddy, your breathing is tattered, and ugh... fix that vibrato. You pulsate your diaphragm too slow."

Well that just shattered my confidence.

Even after all of the critical acclaim I received from the masses and The New York Times, everything fails to appease my parents. I steal a quick glance from behind too see Jeongyeon and Sana just standing there, listening to my mom and dad's boorish commentary instead of carrying out their duties. I can't even bring myself to enjoy my food. I wish that I could disappear right now. Nothing could've been more unbearable than listening to your parents revile you in a public restaurant, not to mention one that is congested with musicians from professional orchestras.

"Excuse me! Waitress!" my dad hollers over a hundred voices in the facility. Sana is the first one to address her concern.

"Is there something wrong?" she asks.

"Something wrong? There's a toothpick in my veal chop!" my mom stomps her foot, starting waitresses Sana and Jeongyeon, as well as the other customers sitting around us, "I could've choked on this toothpick and died! What do you have to say for yourself?" 

"I-I'm sorry", Sana stammered, not sure about what to do next.

"YOU'RE NOT EVEN GOING TO REDO MY ORDER OR GIVE ME A REFUND?" mom raises her voice and unexpectedly, she splashed her simmering hot cup of coffee on Sana's work uniform, in front of everybody. I was in shock as I saw Sana's eyes nearly welling up in tears. This is unacceptable.

"MOM! WHAT THE HELL?" I stood up for Sana.

"Mina! Sit down!" my father directs calmly, "Your mom will handle th—"

"No, you!" I spat without thinking, removing my belongings from under the table and dragging Sana into the women's bathroom.

It's eerily silent as Sana and I are standing around in one of the larger toilet stalls, those intended for handicap people or those who are claustrophobic. The quietness of the bathroom eased my irritated ears after having been released from the cacophony of the dining room. The taller girl could only wince in pain of being singed by my mother. Seeing Sana this anguished made me feel even more nauseous and heartbroken. 

I think I know about how I can help.

I bent down and reached my case, "Take off your clothes."

"WHAT?"

"You idiot, I'm not going to watch you strip", I tug out a short concert dress from one of the larger outside pockets, "Change into this."

Sana raised an eyebrow, "Why do you keep an extra set of clothes in your bassoon case?"

"I don't know", I shrugged, "I'm just extremely wary about forgetting my clothes."

The blonde girl adheres to my instructions, takes the dress, and waits for me to step outside of the stall and wait until she has finished changing into her newfound clothes. I see Sana tosse her blotched tie and dress shirt onto the floor and kick them aside, not wanting to think about the coffee stains inflicted by my mother. To be honest, I wouldn't have wanted to be reminded of my pain too.

The Seventy-Fifth Measure

Monday: December 14, 2020

No, no, no, no. This isn't good. I messed up during my music jury.

I knew from somewhere in the beginning that something was going on with my hearing. Half the time, I couldn't hear Minyoung's piano accompaniment and I could've sworn that I was rushing through some passages. And Mozart's bassoon concerto is the most basic work in all of bassoon repertoire. How am I supposed to live knowing that I screwed up a piece that I played hundreds of times in the past? It felt like time had decided to turn against me at a crucial point in my school year. If my parents hear from one of the faculty members, some of whom are also New York Philharmonic musicians, that I got five points docked out of a total score of one hundred for Mozart, they're going to kill me.

Way to remind me of the pain that I had to endure last night with my parents and Sana Minatozaki.

"Mina, relax! Ninety-five out of a hundred points is amazing!" Minyoung tries to comfort me by pulling me into a hug and patting my head.

"Minyoung", I quietly sobbed into her chest as if the world were about to end right here and right now, "Ninety-five points out of a hundred is not amazing. I was off-synch with your piano accompaniment. I couldn't hear you for some reason."

The pianist says something cryptic and I can't hear her properly. The noise in my right ear processes her voice as somewhat deep, irvariably droning, along with some sort of reverb of every real sound, although the reverb seems more like a feeling than like an actual sound to me. I've had this feeling ever since I woke up this morning and it's been persisting throughout my entire day.

"Can you repeat that?" I ask, "In my left ear."

Minyoung complies and whispers into my left ear, "Did something happen to you while you were performing?" 

"I think I might've—"

Oh, no. Don't tell me that I completely lost all of the hearing in my right ear already.

"Holy !" Just before I could speak, a strident voice resounds through the glass doors.

Minyoung jerks her head around to see the shorter girl with versatile bangs standing on the other side, "Unnie?"

"No way! It is Minyoung!" Jihyo and "The Crack Squad" swing open the double doors of the Alice Tully Hall's grand foyer. The violist runs up to Minyoung, jumping into each other's arms, smashing each other's chests, and speaking in an inconspicuous language. It was as if they were a pair of high school friends who separated from each other during their college years and hadn't seen each other in such a long time.

I sputter in confusion, "H-How do you two know each other?" 

"Mina!" Jihyo's blithe chuckle resounds in my left ear, "Meet Minyoung — my accompanist for the Maurice Vieux International Viola Competition."

"I know who Minyoung is, dummy", I deadpanned.

The pianist gawks at me, "Don't mind Mina. She's just disturbed because she got a ninety-five on her music jury."

"You're upset because she scored a ninety-ing-five out of a hundred on her music jury?" Tzuyu knits her eyebrows in confusion, nearly dropping her cello case on the limestone floor before Dahyun saved it with her hand, "Those are much better scores than what the rest of us got."

"Mina is a perfectionist. Anything under one hundred is an 'F' for her", Nayeon explained.

"I guess you could say that Minaring holds high expectasians for herself", Momo cracks a joke but nobody is laughing.

"Have a treat, Moguri", Dahyun feeds the violinist a chocolate bar to shut her up.

"Say, how about we sit down and continue our little get-together somewhere else", Jeongyeon suggests as we all shift over to the seated area in the lobby, where there are other anxious musicians waiting for their jury, eyeballing the crap out of their pieces.

First, Jihyo talks about how Nayeon passed her music jury and final exams, meaning that she'll get to graduate from Juilliard this year. Everyone is happy for her and the clarinetist was on the threshold of tears. Then Dahyun, Momo, and Tzuyu choosed to talk about The Juilliard Ball while Jihyo and Minyoung catch up on other stuff. Chaeyoung is just staring off into space, eyes pointed at the cantilevered ceiling as she studies for her jury.

Nayeon removes the straw from her lips as she finishes her lychee milk tea, "The Juilliard Ball is going to take place at the Edison Ballroom?" 

"Yeah. Apparently, Juilliard’s Student Government managed to reserve a high-class venue ahead of time. Doesn't that sound lavishing?", Momo explained with grandeur, causing Dahyun to roll her eyes in annoyance as Jeongyeon gives the girls an entertained look.

The cellist’s eyes widened, alarmed by the sudden crisis, "Oh , I forgot about that. Does that mean I have to pick out a dress for that night?"

"It's okay, Chewy!", her girlfriend gave her an assuring smile, "I'll let you borrow some of my evening dresses".

"Dubu, I think that Tzuyu has a bigger chest than you. Her body might not fit into any of your skimpy dresses", Jeongyeon pointed out, eyeing the double bassist’s body assets while Tzuyu glares in confusion.

" you! It's not like your chest has gotten any bigger either!" Dahyun returns the favor by countering back with another insult. 

“Take that back, you little !” The timpanist loses her cool.

As the two girls fight, Sana turns to me to get me to talk, "Hey, Mina. I just want to thank you for what you did for me yesterday."

"Eh?"

"She wants to thank you for standing up for her last night", Jeongyeon reminds me, recomposing herself and releasing Dahyun from her tight grip, "We... we sort of watched the entire scene with you and your parents while we were working."

"Oh... that", discomfort bubbles in my chest after having been prodded about my mom's disparagments.

"I'm so appalled", Jeongyeon comforts me by encasing her arms around my neck and propping her chin on top of my head, "How could your parents, or anyone's parents in general, just tell their child that they'll never be good enough for them."

"I honestly don't know", I whispered to myself.

"No wonder why you feel like pulling your hair out at a ninety-five out of a hundred. But you know what Mama No Jams thinks, bassoon-chan? Mama thinks that you're a PHENOMENON!" Jeongyeon squeezes me tighter and I swear that I'm about to choke.

"Jeong—" I panted for air, "Let go of me!"

"D'awwwww! You're such an adorable little fagott", she coos, ruffling my hair with her large timpani-playing hands.

"STOP!" I squawk, trying to fight my way out of her oddly-affectionate embrace.

"Quit groping Mina, No Jams", Nayeon orders the short-haired girl.

Jeongyeon lets go of me, "I'm not groping her, you dirty !"

"Hey, Mina. Did anyone ask you out to The Juilliard Ball this year? I know that Mingyu tried to propose to you last year, but you rejected him", Minyoung batted her eyelashes, curious for an answer. The other girls turn their heads at me as soon as Minyoung posed that question.  

Crap.

"She's going with Chaeyoung", Sana chisels in and everyone chants in ooh's and ahh's. The percussionist's confused eyes peep above her score.

"Oh my god! How cute!" Jihyo exclaims, cupping her hand over in complete bliss, "So Mina, you're going to The Ball with Son Chaeyoung, whom you kissed during our 'Truth or Dare' match at Dahyun and Tzuyu's apartment?"

"I can ship this!" Dahyun approves.

"You guys played 'Truth or Dare'? That must've been a lot of fun..." Minyoung sulks in jealousy.

"Trust me, you don't want to be there", I whispered over to the pianist.

"What about you, Sana?" Momo turns to the horn player sitting quietly next to Chaeyoung, "Who are you going to The Ball with?"

"I'm not going with anybody. But I'll be fine, I promise!", Sana's fabricates a smile to ease the other girls. Chaeyoung notices this and her lips curl into a frown. Something was eating my gut, telling me that Sana wasn't too excited to go to The Ball by herself when everyone else has dates.

"Are you sure?" Jihyo tilts her head worriedly, "I could hook you up with one of my viola friends like Nozomi Bando or Cathy Hemmingway. Or if you'd prefer to go out with a guy, I could also ring up Justin Poster, Roderick Figueroa, Brian Harrington, or—"

"Jihyo. I'm fine", Sana restates, her tone insisting that she didn't want to be meddled with.

The Seventy-Sixth Measure 

Saturday: December 19, 2020

The Juilliard Ball commenced in a 105,000 square-foot ballroom located in the heart of Manhattan, flourishing with a kaleidoscopic bowery of Alpine roses, Hyacinth, Gentian, Heather, and Edelweiss flowers. The rapturous, golden ceilings were decorated with dramatic, bohemian-styled chandeliers of heavily-draped fixtures with multiple swags of clear crystal balls. Ballroom tables and chairs decked up with scented candles and colorful flower bouquets were set aside to leave room in the center for authentic ballroom dancing.

And if these festivities weren't enough, the wide variety of first-rate foods got Momo’s mouth drooling before Jeongyeon could even drag the aroused violinist to the center of the dance floor. A baroque counter located in the center of the ballroom floor blossomed with classy American courses as well as International dishes that represented Juilliard’s diverse student body. 

"Very good, you're doing it right! Just follow my lead and you'll be fine!"

A fashionable Jackson Wang takes the savory assistant concertmistress on a savory journey as they run through the dance in small yet seasoned steps. While it was the first time Eunha had worn such a sensual piece of clothing, she looked exceptionally gorgeous in her emerald green dress with a sweetheart neckline, flower-embroidered bodice, and a floor length skirt. Oddly enough, she felt naturally comfortable in her attire.

"Wow... she is such an angel. Perhaps I can ask her to dance with me", the Juilliard Orchestra’s principal second violinist thinks to himself.

Following from behind, a suave classmate of Jackson offers a modest Karen Fujii to dance with him. Clothed in a coral-colored dress with a jewel encrusted bodice and a sublime chiffon A-line skirt, Karen follows Kim Yugyeom in his stride as he skillfully spins her around the dance floor in perfect rhythm with one another, the cultivated pianist giving his prudent violist a reassuring wink. Karen and Yugyeom break their entranced gaze to look up at the younger girl hovering with the hunky, inviting horn major.

"Don't worry about it!” the oboist assures, “I'll mentor you through the entire process! Come, take my hand!"

With the dramatic, stimulating showdown coming to a close, the lively music placidly develops into a sophisticated waltz as a lanky girl escorts an average-statured Yuta Nakamoto to the dance floor. Harnessed in a pale gold, embellished dress with a shimmering satin empire waist sash gathered by a flowing, high-low skirt, Shuuka Fujii expertly guides her inexperienced companion through the lengths of the exclusive ballroom floor while Yuta trustfully fixates his gaze from the floor to Shuuka's beautiful dark eyes.

"WOAH! Watch your step!" the violist exclaimed, "I don't want you to get injured on such an enchanting night."

Nayeon was dancing rather clumsily with Jihyo, who somehow picked up a few moves from Momo. Nayeon was wearing an ivory, low-cut evening gown with a sweetheart bodice that emphasized her plunging neckline with floral lace accents. The gown's empire waistline highlighted her skinny complexion as it draped down her long, layered skirt that she kept stepping on with her 4.5-inch heels. Jihyo sported a midnight blue dress composed of waves of pleats across the bodice and chiffon that flows from a single shoulder strap to an elegantly banded waist and high-low tulip skirt.

"Wow! I didn't know that you were such an experienced dancer!" the excitable bassoonist cries out.

Wearing a hot pink strapless dress with a sheer high-low skirt and a sumptuous beaded bodice with sensational diamond accents, Yerin danced with SinB, whose model-like figure was doused in an off-shoulder lavender dress, composed of lightweight chiffon skirt that billows into long bell drapes that slip off her lean waistline, ears accentuated with expensive diamond-studded earrings that she showed me during one of our lessons. She was swept away by the dance major’s excellent ballroom dancing dexterity as she successfully finishes the fast-paced waltz by delivering Yerin down to a romantic dip, bringing astounding acclaim from the surrounding music majors as well as Juilliard students from different departments. 

"You seem to be a capable dancer", the timpanist compliments with a charming wink, "May I take you on an exciting journey?"

As the song transitioned to a more vibrant, high-powered latin tango, another dance couple steals the spotlight with their exceptional ballroom dancing skills. Draped in a red, elegant evening gown with asymmetrical ruching on her toned curves and a slit that intensified her muscled legs, Momo Hirai flaunts her flawless, agile steps while she stays in tact with her enticing dance partner, Yoo Jeongyeon (Who playfully kisses her neck as the couple covers every inch of the ballroom floor). The timpanist is wearing a mahogany dress with a lace halter neckline with adjustable ties, two side slits in the skirt, and a bodice that gently billows into a fitted waist with a band of elastic at back for a custom fit.

"Interesting..." the double bassist has a sly smile plastered on her face, "Maybe we should try to swipe the limelight from them, don't you think?" 

Challenging the exemplary pair, a seductively smooth Tzuyu, donned in y black dress with a gauzy chiffon skirt and a long sheer sleeve, struts the stage with a fair-skinned dance partner by her side. Her name was Kim Dahyun, who was wearing a cream strapless dress with a flowing gathered waistline made into a full skirt, slightly padded busts, with a high-low hemline. Tzuyu eyes the ambitious violinist and the flamboyant timpanist as they engage in a intense, heated dance battle that excites the tireless crowd attending the extravagant ball.  

My engrossed eyes browsed the premises of the dance floor, observing every little detail that I pinpoint: Gorgeous girls in sophisticated gowns prancing about with their hunky boyfriends in monkey suits, uncoordinated feet tangling with gray trousers to the beat of the high-strung music, and if you're lucky, pink lips fondling in the embrace of a man's succulent tonguing throughout the alluring night-life. Suddenly, the in-house orchestral music changes into an enchanted, modern ballad accompanied by a gentle, male singing voice.

The current song playing was So Close, by Jon McLaughlin from the movie Enchanted. 

The two of us have been dancing together for quite a while now, and at this point, Chaeyoung looks a little weary. Her eyes traveled around the interior of the venue. She started to feel relieved after seeing one of her other friends seemingly partnerless. It was Sana Minatozaki, wearing a royal blue, floor length dress with sheer paneling and laced jewel detailing. Her hair was done in a messy bun yet with an exceptionally modish updo. I would've expected her to arrive in a ridiculous dress or to go full-out Disney Princess but Sana looks so classy today. 

"You should go dance with Sana", Chaeyoung admitted, removing her arms from my figure.

I paused in my steps, "You sure?"

"I already got my wish, and that was to dance with you", she explained, "You know, after the Sana and I had that discussion about dates at the cafe, something didn't feel right. My gut was telling me that Sana didn't want to be alone. She might've wanted to dance with you too."

"But—"

"I had my night", Chaeyoung's grin is as bright as a thousand suns, "I think that it's Sana's turn to have her's."

Sana shuffled around the venue, with a glass of fruit punch shaking in her hand, her frame bent after walking in those high heels. All of her friends have dates except her. Man, I seriously wish that I hadn't been a to her a long time ago when I said that she had no friends. Now I know what it feels like to be lonely, having been ostracized by my relatives and my former friends (The Six).  

The blonde girl sighed, "Momo, SinB, and Tzuyu are such talented dancers, huh?"

"Sana, get over here", I grab her arm and haul her to the center of the ballroom.

"MINA!" Sana shouted in surprise, "What are you doing?"

Much to my luck, Dahyun sways up to Chaeyoung and steals her for the rest of the night, or at least for the duration of the slow dance. Chaeyoung agrees and they motion themselves to the dance floor, linking each other's arms and giggling like a pair of hormonal teens experimenting with new partners. It turns out that Nayeon and Jihyo had been assisting a nauseous Tzuyu to the lavatory after eating what could've been underdone food. 

"Well now that she's slow-dancing with her ex, you're coming with me", I declared.

Sana stops me, "But what about Chaeyoung? Aren't you her date?"

"That's not the point", I cried over the gradual onset of stirring music resounding over each surface of the ballroom, "The point is that I can't stand to see you moping around and being alone when we could be having one hell of a night. Chaeyoung even agrees that you're being too nice to her and that you're not doing things for your own well-being. Forget this societal construction of needing a 'single date' for a special event. We're not in high school anymore. We don't need to assimilate with those kinds of ideals to make ourselves happy."

I wish that I had told myself this when high school prom came around and I was forced to go out with a man that my parents approved of.

I wish that I had told myself this when I had that dispute over the dinner table with my cousins.

I wish that I had told myself this when I used to be with The Six.

I guess this is the part where I begin to change myself as a person — to regain a different persepective and have control over certain situations that play out in life. Change isn't exactly a bad thing if I'm doing it this way. I hope that I could continue to uphold this frame of mindset in the future.

"You're adapting to a different type of mentality", Sana acknowledges, "I guess those self-affirmation posts really helped." 

She mentions those post-its sticking to my mirror and I start to think about the tiny percussionist drifting away with Dahyun on the dance floor. For a split second, Chaeyoung removes herself from the comfort of Dahyun's shoulder and gives me an approving wink.

"Chaeyoung isn't the only one", I made clear, "Who taught me about nonconformity and told me to love and take care of myself? You did."

Sana's emotions let it get to her like waves meeting the land, gripping the soft fabric of her ball gown as tears flooded from her eyes. Sana Minatozaki. You deserved to be showered with love too, just as much as you shower your love on your friends and family. 

"So, Sana", I call in a calm tone, wiping a single shed of tear off her face with my finger. Her eyes were darting from the dance floor to my eyes.

"Yes, Mina?" her small voice answered in an innocent, sweetened tone that whistled in my left ear.

I took in a deep breath, "Do you want to dance with me?"

Sana says blissfully, "I would love to."

The blonde girl takes my warm hand as I take her to the dance floor. The song fluctuates from John McLaughlin to Mandy Moore's Only Hope from the coming-of-age movie, A Walk to Remember. A rather wistful, overemotional choice for a slow dance, somehow it kindled a fire of hope in me. My confidence that had been shattered a few days ago had come back, just in time for this dance. Time was on my side today.

"Is it okay if I put my arms around your waist?", Sana requests, staring at me with those magnificently dark eyes.

I gave my anxious partner a comforting smile, "Of course you can.”

Sana did as she was told and placed her arms around my small waist. In return, I caressed my arms around the horn player's neck as I rested my head onher soft chest (Note that Sana is wearing heels that are significantly taller than my shoes). As I danced with Sana, she was looking down in nervousness at my body. Blanking out, Sana accidentally stepped on my layered, satin skirt as I slip to the ground.

"What's wrong?" I asked, helping myself off the shining dance floor as I was supported by Sana’s helping hand.

"Sorry", Sana apologized in a soft voice, "I've never done this before."

"Let me help you out", I offered.

"Okay", Sana nodded, placing her arms around my waist once again.

Returning to our previous position, I guide my partner through the slow dance as she lets me rest my exhausted head on her comforting shoulder. I somehow figured that Sana was inexperienced in ballroom dancing — actually, no — slow dancing in general. Sana had been bullied before and this occurred when she moved to San Francisco after I had left her to enroll in LaGuardia High School of the Performing Arts, so nobody must've asked her out to senior prom or whatever festivities her high school offered.

Dancing with another girl, let alone an angelic horn player who had caught my attention in Mahler Five, I somehow believed I was in heaven in the thick of a whimsical world of alabaster feathers whirling around Sana and I. I've never been this close in contact with Sana before, at least not in this kind of setting where romantic music is rebounding off every wall. She looked like an angel in front of my eyes. Her milky white skin blended perfectly with her sandy blonde hair, loose strands framing her oval-shaped head and adorable cheeks. She had wide brown eyes that brought out her natural beauty, long eyelashes showing content, as if she's everlastingly thankful for your well-being. I don't know what kind of hidden force is provoking me to think this way, as I haven't thought this highly of Sana in the past since my parents deliberately distanced the two of us.

What's going on with me? What is this feeling?

With the instrumentals becoming louder, the ringing spread to my good, left ear that doesn't have traces of hearing loss yet. The music was thundering and my tinnitus recurred and became even loder, sort of like the inner mechanizations of a computer. I'm cupping my ears with my hands as pain seeped from my eardrums to my brain. I think I'm going to cry. Sana sees me do this and she motions me away from the dance floor.

"Mina!" Sana cordially asks me in a high-pitched voice, "What's wrong? Is it your hearing?"

I didn't give her an answer.

"Let's go somewhere quieter", Sana grasped my shaking hand and led me outside the ballroom premises, collecting our cloaks from the coat hanger located near the entrance.

The Seventy-Seventh Measure 

We escape to the topmost floor where there is a newly-renovated indoor botanical garden, with a balcony overlooking the vast cityscape of Manhattan and the rest of New York City. Glass panels surround us, keeping us warm and safe from the cold weather that winter has to offer. The music emitting from the ballroom are muted down by the walls and the doors, steadily diminishing my headache.

Despite the frigid weather, the exterior of the venue was protected from the descending snow. The staff was dedicated to preserve the sacred gardens. And if that wasn't odd enough already, the sun was setting three hours before midnight had just hit. The sky was a gradient of pink, orange, and yellow hues that represented a melting rainbow. It seemed as if the colors and the intensity of the light wanted to calm me down.

Sana and I seated ourselves on a bench, in which in front of us was a beautiful fountain with cascading waters that gleamed with the glassy light of the brilliant sunset. The blonde girl was bopping her head to music resounding from her iPhone. The instrumentals consisted of a gentle piano melody back-dropped by balladlike drums. The lyrics are Japanese and I could pick out a few words but I couldn't recognize who the artist was. 

"That's a really nice song you're listening to", I said.

Sana removed her earphones and gaped at me, "I thought you didn't like pop music."

"Just mainstream pop", I clarified, "And plus, it's seems like a nice song to slow dance to. Better than the music that's playing inside, at least."

"We Say Hello by Manami", She stands up, "We can dance to this if you're feeling better."

"I'm down", I committed.

I don't know why, but something was driving me to get up off my and dance with Sana. She wrapped her arms around my waist and I encased my arms around her neck, gazing genuinely and profoundly into each other's eyes. I don't want to see Sana upset like how I saw her when my mom splashed hot, steaming coffee on her clothes. There was a fragment of me that compelled me to keep her and other people happy. I regret ignoring her in the past. I was too preoccupied with winning. Why am I a bad person? Why didn't I lend my arms for her when she did for me? I didn't have any friends in elementary school after The Six left to study abroad in Europe. Sana was the first one to befriend me in that music room.

I was such a jerk. 

I regained my focus and acted as Sana's guide again, tugging her closer to my chest, hugging her gently like a precious pearl as I take her on a slow waltz across the polychromatic floor. I found out that dancing out here is better than dancing in there. 

There wasn't any loud music playing in the backdrop; there was only the calming song reverberating from Sana’s iPhone, soothing me like soft whispers reiterating in my attentive ear as I rested my head on Sana's shoulder, the hems or our dresses lapping against the ground. As the sun goes down, night drops on the city like a heavy curtain hiding everything. The darkness that sweeps over the landscape of tall buildings and shrubs swallows every road sign on the intersection below the balcony, and the absence of light is so complete, that not even shadows survive.

"I didn't know that you could dance", Sana sighs — a sigh so sublime that her perfume-scented breath tickles my face.

A light giggled escaped from my mouth, "Long story-short, along with my instrumental lessons, my mom forced me to study ballet on the sidelines because it wass a trend among wealthy families. They say that it could make a young lady look graceful."

"God, Mina. You're like the definition of graceful", she poses the most beautiful smile that has ever danced on her lips.

"Oh, shut up", I mumble into her skin.

And then something strange happened.

Sana ceases her movements, "Hey, Mina. Wanna kiss?"

"WHAT?" I suddenly gasped out, baffled at her unforeseen request.

Her words take a while to sink into my brain. She can't be drop-dead serious about this, right? Wrong. She is. Sana and I were engaged in a stare-down to see who would break out the first word. The elongated eye contact with the horn player demanded a greater degree of physical attraction. The longer I stared, the more I was enchanted by her twinkling eyes, scrimed by the stars in the sky glittering like the diamonds ingrained on Sana's magnificently blue dress. I want to give her a palpable response, but my breathing became constricted and shallow. 

The only word that comes out of my mouth is: "Why?"

"Just because", she spurts out vaguely, "And plus, the environment is just fitting for a kiss."

Hesitantly, I breathed my answer, "You do know that my parents won't allow me to date a g—"

"I know", Sana cuts in, "After this, we won't kiss ever again. Okay?" 

It wouldn't hurt to experiment kissing another girl. Chaeyoung already stole my first kiss so there's really no point in waiting for the "right" person.

"Okay", I said.

Sana didn't even stop to take a quick breather before making her move. We took our chances and locked our lips together, Sana's nose brushing against mine. A tingle ran through my spine as the blonde girl's moist mouth closed slowly around her, forcing me to breathe through my nose. The kiss was gentle yet insistent; loving but possessive. Sana’s lips were soft like marshmallows and they tasted as sweet as candy.  

I felt a strong bursting sensation in my heart as if fireworks were exploding from inside me, but as she continued, I couldn't help but close my eyes and pretend I was in a fairytale dream made into reality. I was overwhelmed in happiness as I felt the soft touch of her warm, soft lips pressed against mine for the first time. Saying that horn players are good kissers is a huge understatement; they know how to make magic like they do with their instruments. It was as if I were a princess kissed by my prince charming. Actually, no. Sana is more like a princess if anything.

What the hell is going on with me?

I’m enjoying every lasting second of it; I couldn't let go of this savory sensation. It didn't feel like one of those dumb kisses pulled from bets or dares made by your stupid friends (a.k.a Jeongyeon). It was a kiss missing for months; a kiss more longing than other kisses. But just when I thought that the kiss could go on for longer, Sana pulls away and wipes off the remains of "whatever-the-" I left on with her arm.

"Well, that was fun while it lasted!" Sana's voice is as cheery and pleasant as ever.

I shot a perplexed look at the horn player, almost in disbelief of what I had just experienced. For a moment, I forgot about the pain in my right ear.

The aftermath of our first (and maybe only) kiss didn't leave me pleased at all. If anything, I was bewildered, confused, longing for a little longer.

BONUS (And you guys thought that I would ignore Chaeyoung's dance with Mina)

Chaeyoung gazes at her date — a renowned musical prodigy cloaked in a silver dress, swathed with romantic satin crossing over the dropped waist and slowly cascading into delicate bustles throughout a long skirt sprinkled in a glitter of stars. The sweetheart neckline was heavenly embellished with beaded lace with diamond-like jewels. Her earrings were encrusted with starlight pearls and her hair piece consisted of starflower crystals.

Man, she's so gorgeous. Mina's hair was a rich shade of wine red that flowed in waves adorning to her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her brown eyes were framed by long lashes and a light hue of brown eyeshadow. Her lips were the color of a red rose and had she smiled, the people around her would sigh with contentment. Her beauty is so natural that even with no make-up, there wouldn't be a big difference in her appearance.

"Ah! It's time for the slow dance!" Mina squealed in delight. It's probably the first time she has seen Mina this excited. In fact, it's probably the only time she is ever going to see Mina like this. Chaeyoung can't hear Mina's words but she could tell that this isn't the same Mina she sees every day. 

Mina was destined to be a musician from the minute that she was born. She learned how to sing, play the piano, and read music before she could spell her own name and recite the alphabet. When she was in kindergarten and her teacher had the class play the recorder, Mina was already leagues above everyone in her class because she had already learned how to play the clarinet. Renown bassoonists from all over Europe had declared Mina as their youngest pupil because kids don't typically pick up a double-reeded instrument until they're in middle or high school. 

Mina was only ten years-old.

Chaeyoung thinks that if Mina had been bred to believe that winning trumps happiness, then it would be a long time before she exhibits this sort of excitement again. And Chaeyoung predicts — no, she knows that Mina is going to be prosperous after graduating from Juilliard. Chaeyoung knows that Mina is going to forget her name and Sana's name in five years time. She's absolutely sure of it.

Mina taps the shorter girl's shoulder, "Chaeyoung."

"Ha—"

"Are you ready?" she gestured, her chocolate-scented breath carressing the shorter girl's pink cheeks.

Chaeyoung gave off a nervous chuckle, looking up at the glistening eyes of her supposed ‘date’ before answering with her hands, "I'm ready."

And then when they begin the dance, the music travels from the people's ears to their feet. The percussionist blinked for a minute, wishing that she could be as graceful and refined as Mina Myoui. She imagined how it must feel to have the world spin around her while they twirled, or how it felt to fly through the air in a leap, or even how to just have a general rhythm to the movement of her feet. 

She's smart, she's attractive, she can do her own hair and makeup, she puts a hundred-and-twenty percent in her attire every day, she sings like an angel in Aural Skills class, she plays the bassoon beautifully, and she dances just as elegantly as a swan. How can Mina be so damn perfect?

Chaeyoung wasn't so sure that she deserved to dance with Mina Myoui.

The tomboy felt a bit hesitant in her steps as she latches her fingers around Mina's neck, and before they knew it, she stepped on Mina's foot.

"I'm sorry!" Chaeyoung fearfully blurts out with her voice; she felt her body shrinking as she sees her partner wince in pain.

But then the bassoonist recomposed herself, her pretty lips forming a glorious smile to her partner before using her hands to answer back, "Don't be too tense. Let the music flow within your body and move with the wind. Forget about the people watching us right now; just close your eyes and breathe."

The shorter girl some air into her lungs before they began dancing. Before she even knew it, Chaeyoung found herself drifting out onto the floor. She wasn't even conscious of it. She and Mina were swirling to in the beat that the music gave them, gliding around on the floor as if they'd always belonged on it. Even though Chaeyoung was unsure of when her daydream had crossed into reality, she knew that they were doing the steps right, and she could feel that the music emphasized her every room. Pride made Chaeyoung smile, and she was glowing with joy as she slow danced across the floor with her beloved wife. Their waltz can go on forever, and she wouldn't care.

A/N: I'm so happy because ya homegirl just got her pre-ordered TWICE "TT" album mailed in. And guess which holographic photocard I got? MINA MYOUI AS. I also have the Tzuyu CD and a Jeongyeon Selfie Photocard. Now to figure out where I'll hang my posters...

We Say Hello has been recommended by asianeos.

Next chapter, I'm making the decision on what Sana and Mina's duet will be. Were you guys surprised with the ending?

Next stop: PARIS, FRANCE. And to those who read The Bucket List, I'm having one of the principal characters make a huge presence at the Parisian Winter Music Festival. Who will it be? Who do you want it to be? Let me know in the comment section below.

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