ARC ONE

nocturne
Origin: French
A piece for the night.

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 Ninety-Eighth Measure

Wednesday: December 30, 2020

I let out a sigh; I was exhausted from all the pandemonium that struck me that very night, all in negative connotations. When I returned to my suite, I sat up in bed and opened my laptop. Short coughs were heightened to repentive wheezings and my weary body slumped under the sheets of my queen-sized bed. The room is dark, curtains enclose the shuttering lights, and the only trace of noise that my left ear catches is the doorbell.

Oh god.

"This is bad", Yerin's peppy voice turns concerned as she perpetually stares at the doorway. It turns out that the "Crack Squad" is on the other side.

"What's up with Mina?" Jeongyeon demanded.

"Mina literally scrolled through every despising comment, tweet, article, thread — whatever. All in the span of an hour", SinB reiterates.

I listen in on their entire conversation while I'm under the blankets, opening a new tab on my laptop and typing in my name on the search bar. My uncovered toes are quivering as footsteps grow louder and louder, inching towards my disposition. But nonetheless, I read it anyways:

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twitter

Matthew McLaughlin @laughingmatthew
I'm starting to believe that there's something wrong with Mina. She needs to go into an institution ASAP #psycho

Jamie Loo @rainbowdash1401
Sana Minatozaki is not a dark horse, she's our dark knight. She currently holds the record for having the highest score in the festival competition. Thanks for taking down @minamyoui for those who've been trying to surpass her for many years. Now her mom and dad can hit her.

Marion Roberts @iheartwoohyun
Hey @minamyoui your time is over. Time to go back to mommy and daddy. #getrekt #retirement

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The New York Times

Is This What The Downfall of a Musician Looks Like?
By Dan Preston — December 29, 2020

Last night, when the compelling bassoon prodigy Mina Myoui turnt up audiences at the Palais Garnier for the annual Parisian Winter Music Festival Competition, she had attained a near-perfect score of 99.650 for a polished, virtuosic rendition of Bach's Partita in A Minor.

It should be rewarding and extraordinary to attain a score that high, especially since she left no room for critical error and maintained a beautifully dark vibes throughout. Myoui is known to have never lost a single competition in her lifetime, boasting forty-seven first place trophies and several palatial performances with the most celebrated orchestras and the most marvelous music festivals, including the world-famous BBC Proms where she, nineteen years-old at the time, swayed the audience to tears with the heartbreaking yet sentimental Le Cygne Noir.

But alas, Myoui was met with an unexpected twist of events when dark horse hornist Sana Minatozaki snatched the festival's grand prize out of her hands, finishing off with a score of 100.000 — the highest grading in the competition's history. Facts are that Myoui's streak of gold trophies and certificates had finally been slain, and long-time rivals of hers are celebrating in the same fashion as republicans were when Donald Trump won the presidency in 2016. One contestant from the Eastman School of Music reported that his peers were clinking beer bottles at Mina's loss.

On the side, there is Mina and her parents... [Subscribe to The New York Times to read more]

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My blanket escapes my head and all of a sudden, I'm freezing to death. Jeongyeon and my friends were at the foot of my bed with my blanket clutched in Jihyo's hands. Oh god. They found me. My hair is an astonishing mess and I'm wearing silk pajamas too. Dahyun walks up to me and swipes my laptop from my grasp, skimming through the article while the others peer behind her head and shoulders.

Dahyun closes my laptop and scowls, "Who the wrote this article?" 

"Slain? Vibes? Snatched? Turnt Up?" Momo's eyes squinted at witless words used in his writing.

"Really? He brings up Trump too?" SinB scratched her head, "He's not even our president anymore."

Nayeon shook her head in disapproval, "Whoever wrote this has the vocabulary of a Kardashian. Honestly Mina, these articles are written by monkeys. Don't listen to a single word that they put out there. And don't listen to those haters as well. They're full of ." 

"I think that something else is bothering Mina", Jihyo speculates. Thank god. Somebody who is smart.

Jeongyeon motions Dahyun to pass her my laptop, and then she stuffs it in her bag. 

I jolted up from my bed, "Hey! That's my laptop!"

"From now on, no more reading hate comments", Jeongyeon professed, "We're only going to allow positive affirmation from here on out."

"You guys are ing hilarious", I muttered. But the timpanist wasn't joking in the slightest.

In the first hour, Jeongyeon and Nayeon attempted to bake me a cake in our suite's little kitchenette. Afterwards, Jeongyeon narrates to me that Nayeon accidentally dumped ten cups of salt, instead of sugar, into the mixing bowl. My tongue immediately repulses from the first bite. In the second hour while I tried to take a nap, SinB and Yerin plopped onto my bed, giving me merciless tickle attacks.

"Here comes the tickle monster!" both girls squeal as their fingers attack my stomach and my armpits, "Kitchy Kitchy Koo—"

"NO!" I wailed, pushing them off the side of the bed.

In the third hour, Momo, Tzuyu, and Dahyun form a string trio and perform a classical arrangement of Katy Perry's Firework while Jihyo sings. Seconds into the song, a cranky man, who resides in the suite next to us. yells at the four girls to shut the up. They stow away their instruments in defeat. Sana is the last person to walk in the room, still wearing my clothes.

"Your performance was... great!" she sputtered.

I didn't believe her, "Oh, shut up. It didn't feel like my performance."

Sana doesn't stop talking, "Well that's what you think, but I believe that—" 

"I'm sorry but Pep talks or any other form of positive affirmation isn't going to work for me right now", I ducked my face under the covers.

The girl sighed before making her point.

"I'm not here to give you anything", she said directly, "I'm here to inform you that you've been summoned by Chaeyoung."

"What?"

"She wants you to bring your instrument too."

"ing , Sana. I don't want to play my bassoon", I growled.

Sana just snickers, shuffling closer to the foot of my bed, "If you're not going to play her, then I will."

That triggers me, "Don't you dare."

She waves the tenor joint in her hand, "I'm already assembling the par—"

"Jesus Christ! I'll go!" I hissed, tossing my blanket to the side and sliding into my penguin slippers. I walk over to the closet to grab a fluffy parka off the coat racks, all before I spot that Sana still holding one of my bassoon joints. "Can I have her back now?"

Sana props the joint on my hand, "Meet Chaeyoung outside the hotel."

"Sana, it's cold as . My wood is going to get warped", I complained, tenderly tucking that joint back in my case. Practicing in the snow stayed out of the question, as it would damage the condition of my bassoon. Why would Chaeyoung want to go outside?

"You two are going somewhere", she said, "I don't know where, but somewhere."

She says this and the only thing I do is look up at her big puppy-dog eyes, "What about you? Where are you going?"

"I'm going to the salon", Sana perked up, "To get my hair done."

"What are you going to do with your hair?"

She puts a finger to her lips, "It's a secret."

The Ninety-Ninth Measure

The weather outside was terrible. The Champ de Mars couldn't even be recognized. The riverine islet at the northeastern foot of the Eiffel Tower was frozen. Every tree in the thickly forested, misty and lightless glade seemed to hide some macabre secret or soul. Even the cold wind in the sprigs sounded thin. sickly, and fearful. There were no signs of constellations that night, nor stars, nor the milky white moon. Every little sound, a pebble scraping beneath my toes, the eerie breeze pressing against the lonely trees were amplified by the deathening silence.

*tap*

"EEEKK!" I screamed in surprise and a booming laugh rung in my left ear.

With the sudden prod from behind, I turned around to see the person who was poking my shoulder with the sharp point of an umbrella. It was Chaeyoung wearing a black, leather trench coat and a matching fedora on her head, heaving a rather big backpack on her back.

"Oh!" Chaeyoung suddenly exclaimed, "Do you mind if we stop by the music store first?

"I don't mind", I nodded before a ticklish feeling reached my nose, "AH-ACHOOOOO!"

“Bless you!" Chaeyoung addressed, handing me with a tissue from her pocket.

I grabbed the tissue and wiped my nose, "Thank you."

"Are you sick?” she asked.

I shook my head, "It's just the weather."

"I guess Sana wasn't kidding when she said that you had a weak immune system. Hey, the music store is over there!" Chaeyoung pointed at the posh building that displayed modern and old-fashioned French instruments on its wide windows for vistants to see.

The music store was called the La maison de la musique française et de l'édition musicale (or simply, La maison de la musique), one of the largest and most traditional music stores in French. Inside, there were well-stocked books, CDs, DVDs, and sheet music placed in their respective shelves, with skill levels ranging from beginner to professional and genres ranging from classical music to pop to jazz, brass band music to choir, and much more than my eyes could take in. They also carried pedagogical books, biographies of famous French musicians and composers, reference books, and musical supplies. In the backdrop, Edith Piaf’s Non, je ne regrette rien (No. I do not regret anything) is playing softly from the speakers, filling the large room serenely yet perfectly.

"Ah! Les clients!" (Ah! Customers!), A striking young man pauses in his slow trek around the vast store to address his visitors, "Bienvenue à La Maison de la Musique! Comment puis-je vous aider?” (Welcome to the 'House of Music'! How may I help you?)

Chaeyoung glanced at me, trying to decipher his words after attempting to read his lips.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" He apologized in his thick accent, "No French? I speak in English then. What do you need?"

I tried to hold in my laughter at his comical English, answering his question, "Do you have… uhh...." What the hell does Chaeyoung want?

The percussionist poked my shoulder and fingerspelled the brand of mallets that she wanted, "Lyons Orff mallets."

"I do!" he gestures with a smile, "Follow me to the back."

Holy crap. The shopkeeper is using American Sign Language.

Chaeyoung leaves me to fetch her mallets and I hover around the store to see if there's anything interesting to do. I'm actually not really interested in doing anything. My energy has been robbed from crying at my parents and in additiion, I still have that deep-rooted cold that spurred since the Juilliard Orchestra's concert. What am I going to do if my parents decide to disown me? How am I going to be able to support myself when—

"It really is Mina Myoui!" two high-pitched voices ring together like wind chimes in the hovering silence.

Chaeyoung's cousins? How did they even get here?

"We've missed you, Mina!" Chaeyeon sprints up to squeeze my waist. 

"I thought that we would never see you again!" Chaeryeong cries hysterically, hugging my legs, "I've been longing to hear your bassoon."

Chaeyoung is probably setting me up again.

"Double reeds are super expensive, though", the latter sister lets out a pout.

"Do you two want to hold mine?" I offered.

"CAN WE?" they zip up in excitement like a pair of four year-olds. 

"Yeah, just give me a sec", I said, unclasping the neck strap and carefully maneuvering my bassoon to their small hands

"WOAH! It's heavy!" they exclaim, knees buckling together as their faces wear a tight grimace. Reminds me of the first time I held a bassoon. Sana wouldn't stop laughing at me. My heart rate picks a touch when the boot joint hovers above the wooden floor by an inch (luckily, it didn't). I take my instrument back after having them try and hold it for a couple of seconds. They seem out of breath even though they're not playing it.

"Do you visit a chiropractor after you play?" Chaeryeong grins up at me.

"My roommate, Chaekyung, it actually good at chiropractics", I laughed, "That's why nobody in the Juilliard Orchestra messes with her. They believe that she has the power to snap their necks or break their backs. Her sectionmates evacuate the premises when she's mad."

"Sana is taking over for her now, right?" Chaeyeon asks.

"Yeah", I nodded, "Chaekyung is taking a semester off because one of her close relatives died. Sana told me that Chaekyung's relative was in the U.S. Army and was stationed in South Korea, near the DMZ facing North Korea. I don't know how he died, but it must've devastated her."

Chaekyung and Sana's situations aren't so much different after all. 

"Can you play with us Mina? Pwetty pwease?" Chaeyeon begs, her eyes spread open to portray how desperate she is, "Mommy and daddy raised a lot of money to come to Paris and watch you, Sana, and Chaenggie perform on the big stage. Both of us brought our flutes too!"

You know what, Mina? You owe Chaeyoung something after you've made her upset last night.

"What are we playing?" 

"You are the Music", Chaeryeong answered, my eyes met with her pleading ones, "It's a choral piece, but our school ensemble will be performing an orchestrated version for the winter concert in January. Dan Forrest is going to be our guest conductor too!"

"Do you know the piece?" Chaeyeon asked.

"I do, actually. I've heard it live before", I reminisced.

You are the Music is one of Forrest's most beloved and most revered compositions, set for SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) chorus, solo soprano voice, piano, and horn. One of LaGuardia's choirs had sung it for the 2017 spring showcase and the choir director requested for Yoon Chaekyung to play the horn part. The solo soprano part was sung by Choi Yuna, also known as "Yuju". I forgot to mention that SinB isn't the only non-music major in the Pops Orchestra. Yuju is a voice major and one of the violinists in our orchestra, as Momo once told me.

"You girls ready?" I ensure with reed hanging in my mouth.

They nod enthusiastically, flutes readied in their hands, "You bet!"

Settling in the shop's practice room, Chaeyeon plays the first soprano part, Chaeryeong plays the second soprano part, and I fluctuate in between the tenor and bass voices. As I'm playing the bassoon, I can vividly picture the lyrics in my head. You are the Music speaks of how music can outstrip reality and put one's spirit into a vacuum of harmonious, spiritual reverence. We absorb the general aspects of music and make them our own. 

Just like what Sana does with her music.

Chaeyeon lowers her flute, "I keep misreading the dynamics."

"It's so difficult to hit each note with precision", Chaeryeong gripes.

It breaks my heart to hear two twelve year-olds utter words of perfection or "hitting the notes right". Why do I say that? It is because I've been in that same position when I was their age — no, I've been told to perform faithfully to the score for as long as I played an instrument.  Dan Forrest mentioned in an interview that we shouldn't pretend to be somebody that we're not, even in a compositional sense. 

"I wouldn't worry so much about whether you can play this piece accurately."

I say this and it bewilders both of the sisters.

"Just have fun with the piece. Don't you think that it's immensely rewarding when you re-create sounds that you dream up in your head?" I said with a soft smile on my face, "Forrest, let alone most composers, had no intention of restraining the vocalists or the instrumentalists." 

I'm now having flashbacks to that one day in October — the day when I played the main theme to My Neighbor Totoro for Chaeyoung's cousins and their classmates. I actually poured a lot of my positive energy through that song and I did it on my own accord, long before the kids sang along. I hear Sana, Chaeyoung, and Jihyo's performances echoing in my head when I think about how music acts as an emotional, escapist medium. 

I haven't written myself a self-affirmation post since I left for Paris ten days ago. 

"How do you have fun with the piece?" Chaeryeong asks, "How do I know what I want to play."

"Experimentation is a good thing!"

I paused when Sunny's words popped in my head, "Try out different sounds until you find something that satisfies you."

"Can you show us?" Chaeyeon requested.

I exhaled, my lips pulling into a smile before my reed goes in between them. Le Cygne from Saint-Saëns' composition, Le carnaval des animaux.

Also known as The Swan from The Carnival of the Animals, it is a marvelous piece composed for solo cello and piano. Le Cygne demonstrates the evanescent nature of magnificence with its elucidation of the legend of the "swan song". A prevalent belief among the ancient Greeks and Romans, who regarded the swan as having the most significant of all creatures, was that the Mute Swan is soundless until its final moments of its lifecycle, during which it sings the loveliest of all birdsongs. It gets me thinking about how silent and obedient I remained as a child under overbearing parents. When I finally became an adult and poured out my emotions on them, there was no turmoil. I felt at peace. I felt free. 

Wow. Since I've encountered Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong, I forgot about what happened with my parents.

Often times, I forgot how heavily I relied on my bassoon as stress relief until the aftermath of that fight. Unlike the Partita, the slow tempo and legato markings put me at ease. Notes flow out mellow and tender, just like the moonlight clinging onto the window panes like remnants of the rain — the calm of the night after a huge storm. I can actually breathe for once. I don't have to worry about spazzing for gulps of air because Le Cygne is a kind, tranquil piece. The final note is held with a tinge of vibrato, air streaming from my lungs like cool wine, hushed in the aftermath.

"You play magnificently", Chaeyeon begins to bloom tears in her eyes.

Chaeryeong nodded, wide-eyed as she glanced at every aspect of my instrument, "I love the sound of your bassoon. It sounds like the human voice — rich, delicate, real. I think of my father's singing when I hear it. I want to switch when I'm older and have better lungs to play the huge thing."

*Clap Clap Clap*

From behind, there was a well-dressed lady wearing a red fur jacket with her clean-cut husband donned in a leather coat, jovially applauding at my heartfelt music. Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong were so absorbed in the scene, that neither of them had noticed their affable parents from behind. They jump out of their seat, hopping into her mother's and father’s arms in pure bliss.

Her mother ecstatically rejoices, "Chaeyeon! Chaeryeong! Have you been good to that girl?”

"Yes! Mina even played for us!” Chaeyeon bellowed.

"Oh my lord! Thank you so much for watching over my daughters", their mother gratefully says in a thick Korean accent, "I swear to god, I almost died after I realized that someone in our family was missing. Wait a minute. Mina Myoui, you say? Isn’t she—"

"Yes mum", Chaeryeong speaks up, "She’s the world's first child bassoon prodigy."

"It's nice to meet you", I greeted while bowing in respect, "Your daughters are very pleasurable to work with."

"My God, you look so beautiful and mature in person", she cooed, scooping me in her huge arms as I suffocated, "Anyways, I'm so grateful to have such a heavenly soul like you watch over my mischievous children. Your music was very enlightening and marvelous. I'm pretty sure that Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong enjoyed every single note that emitted from that expensive instrument! I can't wait to hear you play someday again."

"I hope so too", I weakly laughed at her last statement. 

"Mommy! Can I play the bassoon like Mina one day?" Chaeyeon eagerly questioned.

"When you're a bit older, my child!" she said, playfully poking her nose, "Your arms are still too short to hold up one!"

"Don't worry", I gently smiled at the disappointed girl, clasping her hands meaningfully as she peered at me with her glistening eyes, "Once you begin learning, I'll be there to help you with anything that you need. In the meantime, I suggest that you start exercising your lungs so that it'll be easier for you in the future! Oh, and don't forget your arms too! You need to hold up that thing for a long time!"

"I will!" Chaeyeon declared, "I'll start exercising with my sister!"

"That's the spirit!" I hollered as I gave the smaller girl a high-five.

"You really are a kind person, Mina", Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong's father told me with a warm smile, "As a parent, it just disheartens me to hear that your parents would push you past your limits. I hope that you can remain resilient in times like these." 

"And just know that we're always here when you need us", the mom winks, "I'll give Chaeyoung our address and number so you can refer to us."

"Mommy and daddy are licensed marriage and family therapists", Chaeryeong blurts.

At the end of the day, after Chaeyeon, Chaeryeong and their parents said their last regards, they waved back at me as they began to promenade down the rue de Grennelle. I let out a huge sigh, turning back to see that Chaeyoung had finished her journey searching for the right mallets.

Chaeyoung beamed at me as she tucked her brand new mallets in her shopping bag, "It's nice to have fans. You know, people who support you."

"I agree”, I nodded, "It feels amazing to know that there are actual people watching your back and rooting for you."

That night, Chaeyoung and I were the only passengers riding the Roue de Paris ferris wheel. 

"You're surprisingly good with kids", Chaeyoung commented.

"Maybe it's because I've never had a true childhood", I muttered to myself.

"What was that?" she asked, not comprehending.

I shook my head, "Oh, nothing."

The roaring sound of electric motors ringed in my left ear and our passenger capsule prepares to soar into the open air. Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune (light of the moon) was playing softly from the overhead speakers. I noticed that Chaeyoung had not given me a single gesture since we were queuing in line for tickets. I slumped my body against the glass screen, tugging my bassoon case closer to my chest, secured by my warm muff.

"It's beautiful how you could just let your feelings out through your music", Chaeyoung expressed with a grin, then she took out her phone to text something to me.

[Son Chaeyoung] Debussy quoted that, 'Works of art make rules; rules do not make works of arts.' His works freed music from the traditions that stifled it. He brought new music to the Europeans."

I removed my hands from my muff, "I'm surprised that you protected me. I thought you were mad at me."

"Because of what I said about competitions and how you can be an entitled prick?" Chaeyoung her head.

"Yeah."

The percussionist sighed before composing another text.

[Son Chaeyoung ] I felt bad afterwards. Since that fight with your parents, I figured that it wasn't your fault for thinking that way. I mean, I couldn't hear anything that your parents were saying, but I figured that it had to do with you earning second place at the competition.

Chaeyoung is so right here. Since I was born, all my parents taught me was that becoming the best is the only way to have fun and prosper. The truth is, it wasn't fun. Pain was part of the project and it didn't matter how many bruises I had in the end; I still had to perform, nonetheless. 

Chaeyoung then claps her hands in a rapid motion before pulling out her phone again.

[Son Chaeyoung] At least Sana and Jihyo placed in the top three. That's all I really wanted, and it was for them to get recognition. For the many years that I've been friends with them in the youth orchestra, they've always been underappreciated, no matter how beautifully they played. Especially Sana because she's never won first, second, or third place before.

Now it makes sense why Chaeyoung hates competitions. Her dear friends have always been discounted despite their talents.

"You don't hate me, right?"

Chaeyoung laughs, "I never said that!"

"Just making sure", I muttered before stuffing my hands back in my muff. I don't know why, but a teardrop escaped my eye when she said that.

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Chaeyoung cries out before giving me a reassuring hug, sticking her lukewarm hands into the same muff.

Silence reigned between us as the ferris wheel reaches its highest point. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was a serene silence. The night sky was a cold, vast expanse that enveloped the earth like a blanket littered with small flecks of white fire too far to be felt from up close. The street lights of the famous Champs-Élysées were starting to come alive, joining the stars in its symphony of light. 

"You're not thinking about what happened yesterday anymore, are you?"

"Chaeyoung", I began, "Did you bring me to that music store on purpose? So that I could see your little cousins?"

The percussionist nervously swallows the residing lump in , "Yes. Yes, I did."

The Hundreth Measure

Thursday: December 31, 2020

Everyone gathered at the Champs de Mars for the countdown. I love the Parisian nightlife: having to go down unfamiliar streets and absorbing new sounds, scents, and sights every time I visit. The sky grew dimmer and the stars started peeking out of their blue blanket. Numerous food carts and tents filled up all the spaces. Salty and sweet delicacies were pretty much at every corner. The men had just returned from the night market with assorted breads, cheeses, and meats. Sana wandered off to a group of kids who were craving an autograph or a picture with her. I settled on a gingham picnic blanket with Kwon Yuri, the two of us wrapped in a wool blanket for warmth. The air was becoming colder as the night lingered on.

"I'm so happy! We finally get to catch up!" Yuri gleefully sighed before slugging a link of bratwurst sausage into .

"Mmm..." I fidgeted with my fingers, trying to voice out an answer, but my lungs were being complete at the moment.

Yuri rests her head on my shoulder as a friendly gesture, "Tell me, how's your third year at Juilliard going?"

I go over the positive, mundane details, scrapping out the adversities like my acoustic neuroma or my break-up with The Six. I don't talk much because I couldn't formulate large sentences. I kept telling my crap lungs to shut up, to stay strong until the flu season is over.

"How about London?" I asked out of plain curiosity, "Is the professional life everything that you've wished for?"

"Of course!" she zealously chuckled, "That's not to say that I don't have any hardships. Once you've made it into a top-tier orchestra, it's no longer about the money and everything is about the art. Before I joined the London Symphony Orchestra, I've never ventured outside of America. Because of my job, I get to travel to different countries, collaborate with awesome people, but most importantly, I'm doing what I love."

"You're lucky. There are only ten job openings across the world for bassoonists every year. Maybe even less."

"You know, Mina", Yuri began after gulping down a stream of Corona, "I'm not supposed to tell you this, but Adam Richards, principal bassoonist of the London Symphony Orchestra, announced his retirement in 2022. Rattle announced that he would be searching for a new principal bassoonist very early. I don't know when the second and third round will be, but I know that the first round of auditions begins in the spring of 2021." 

Three rounds to win the position? Holy . Most of my hearing will be gone if I somehow manage to pull through the first and second round.

"By the time Rattle announces the winner, you would've already graduated from Juilliard", she adds, "I think that you're more than qualified for the position with all of your awards, orchestral experience, and performances." 

"Do you think that I have a chance?"

"Mina", Yuri restates with a teasing smile, "Sunny won her position at the Berlin Philharmonic with one-sixth of the awards and a third of the experience that you have. You are sure set to win a permanent, tenure-tracked principal position with the London Symphony Orchestra."

"Uh... I guess?" I say skeptically.  

"Are you talkin' trash about me, Yul?" Sunny turns her head and sneers at her cousin. The bass trombonist removes herself from her huddle of Berlin Phil colleagues and runs over to Yuri, tackling her like an MMA fighter. Who ever knew that such a small girl could have this much strength?

"I'm going to miss you guys when I go back to New York", I chuckled.

"Are you going to miss me when I go back to Berlin?" Sunny breathes in between bites on Yuri's fingers. 

"I won't", Yuri laughs. 

"Alright! That's it you little—"

I walk away from Sunny and Yuri's playful fighting and join Chaeyoung under a tree facing the foreground of the Eiffel Tower. On the other side of Chaeyoung was a girl with jet black hair, accented by magenta highlights that compliment her black floral dress with pink and red roses.

"Mina! Sit here", the girl exclaims, patting down on the empty space on her other side.

"Wh-Who are you?"

Her eyes widened, "It's me, Sana!"

I cupped my mouth with my hand in surprise. No way. Sana dyed her hair from blonde to black.

"I wanted to take on a more mature look", Sana says shyly, wiggling her toes under the shared Super Mario Bros. blanket that she and Chaeyoung are using, topped with a lengthy baguette and blocks of brie and white truffle butter. 

"You look pretty", I complimented.

Sana madly blushes like a shrinking rose, her unspoken throat unable to rack up any words.

"She's blushing!" Chaeyoung unconsciously yells out for the third time this week

"Don't tease me!" Sana nudges the smaller girl.

The clock was approaching its last few minutes before striking the New Year's bell, a slew of pyrotechnicians preparing for the fireworks from afar. Without notice, the entire city of Paris thunders in the wake of a new year. This magical moment, fireworks shoot into the sky, wowing all the spectators from below. Usually, Sana would be terrorized by the roaring sounds of explosions, just like how she cowers away from thunder. But today, her ears were deaf to the noise of the accompanying fireworks taking Chaeyoung and I in each arm.

BONUS (Sana and Chaeyoung. Part 2/5)

Saturday: April 16, 2016

"Great work everyone! Take a break!" Maestro Shimazaki rejoiced as commenced a twenty-minute break for the tired musicians. 

Much like the orchestra's usual late afternoon practice sessions, the group was scheduled to practice for two hours after lunch break. Fortunately, today's practice session went swell because the entire orchestra managed to finish perfecting all movements of Bruckner’s Eighth Symphony as well as going through tough passages of Strauss' Don Juan and Ginastera's Estancia Suite. Maestro Shimazaki comments on how vigorously Sunny's bass trombone severs through the texture of the orchestra, and then how gorgeously the horns fill the auditorium. It improves Sana's mood.

"Are you okay?" Chaeyoung noted the fatigued expression on her new friend's face.

"I forgot to hydrate myself", Sana remembered, "Do you have water with you right now?"

"I do!" Chaeyoung piped up, unscrewing the cap from the bottle before handing it over to the dehydrated , "Percussionists need water because they utilize a great deal of their muscles to play their instruments. I'm pretty sure that it's the same protocol for brass players."

"True. And thanks for the water", she said with a smile, retaining her breath.

The percussionist gave the girl a warm grin, satisfied to hear that she was in a better mood today, "You're welcome. It’s nice to see that you’re adjusting with the youth orchestra. You're actually a lot more talented than what your section gives you credit for, if they credit you at all, that is.”

The elevator doors slid open, exposing a spacious practice room in front of them with Jihyo’s viola laid aside the piano bench. The bustling violist was in the bathroom somewhere in the Davies’ Symphony Hall. There was also a glass window, revealing the outside world that the three girls never got to see in five hours after being cramped up in the youth orchestra’s rehearsal room. The sun gawked at the world without silence through the crystal clear sky. Delicate, ornate plants withered under the brightness of the fiery orb while the trees sagged in their dismay. The warmth blistering from the streets soon generated an atmosphere of an oven. Many people sought comfort from the heat by eating ice cream or drinking chilled beverages as sweat rolled off their foreheads like liquid beads, darkening their clothing.

Speaking of sweat, Chaeyoung and Sana had a lot of them radiating off their foreheads. Sana especially, as her lungs were about to give in once the elevator ascended halfway towards the second floor. Bruckner's Eighth Symphony required the fifth through eighth horns to double on Wagner tuben and Sana had never heard of such a thing since her father never talked about it. Wagner tuben are difficult to control, more so than horns in the opinion of Peniel, one of Sana's sectionmates. Naeun was annoyed at Sana's incompetence at the instruments during today's sectionals.

"I forgot to ask you this a few weeks ago. Why did you protect me from Naeun?" Sana asked.

Chaeyoung set down her hand towel, "I just hate competitive people."

"Why?" Sana asked.

Chaeyoung was about to explain when a familiar friend cuts through the emphatic silence.

"Oh! There you two are!" Jihyo's voice echoed down the meek hallways, "We’re about to resume rehearsals. Come downstairs to the auditorium."

Saturday: April 23, 2016

"What's wrong?", Yoona noticed that Sana's tone started to sound weaker rather than following the glorious, exultant beat of the intended piece.

"I-I'm just out of it", Sana sank in her chair. Her father's funeral took place yesterday and she still has thoughts about him whenever she played.

Standing up from her chair and walking around in circles, the contemplative section leader went deep in thought about Sana’s condition before coming up with an idea, "How about looking over your piece a few more times until you feel comfortable? We won’t stop until you get it, okay?”

"God, really now?" Naeun groaned.

"We're not last chair's babysitters you kn—" Peniel stopped rambling as soon as Yoona gave him the 'death stare'.

"I don't want to hear another word from you two", Yoona made clear, her voice emitting an air of authority, "And don't you dare call her last chair."

She's so cool.

After a long, arduous day of sectionals, practicing at the park was the only option that Sana had left if she didn't want her San Francisco neighbors nagging at her to 'shut that damn horn'. Her house was only a block away from the North Lake, so getting home wasn't much of a big deal to her. 

As the night grew lonelier and destitute at Golden Gate Park, so did Sana's music as she played the horn part to Forrest's You Are The Music quietly in the background. It was her lovey-dovey mother and father's favorite song since their high school days. Mr. Minatozaki played the horn whereas Mrs. Minatozaki was the solo soprano voice in their school choir. Not a single thought of her late father escaped the young girl's mind as soft, somber notes escaped from her horn. Sana's father loved music so deeply, and it sometimes showed through Sana's own playing as well. 

Maybe I should head back. Sana thought to herself as she lowered her horn, nearly choking on tears as thoughts of her dad crossed her mind.

The arms of the lower tree branches hung down as if they were trying to grasp her small body, swaying in the coming and going wind. Moss dripped from the sickly dark trees like decayed flesh. Deep shadows seemed to ooze of their own volition.

Not far from her omnipresence, a faint sound of another dismal horn can be heard within distance, replying to the somber tone of Sana's solitary horn. Sana responded back on her primary instrument, letting her music echo through the empty park. It didn't take long for that same horn to mirror her wistful melody. That other horn also performing Forrest's composition, except they're replicating playing the soprano voice's part.

Sana stood up and ventured to track the sound of the recipient, using the reverberations of its sound to tickle her well-trained musician's ear. In an attempt to receive the same musical message, Sana continued to mirror the same melody with her horn's call. 

Holy . Yoona?

Yoona gave the Sana goosebumps: the pure expression on her face, the fluid motions of her agile fingers, her soft lips' touch, and most importantly the amount of emotion she was able to put into her playing. Every high note pierced Sana’s heart like an arrow, slowly climbing on wings of freedom upwards anew into heaven's highest calling while performing the soprano part that was originated for the human voice. But at the same time, her tone was so euphonious, so gentle that her horn's tender sound crawled over her entire body to envelop Sana with a sense of warmth she would never find anywhere else. For a second, her previous worries escaped her mind and she could only long for more of Yoona's music.

And when Yoona stopped, Sana felt a shiver travel down her spine with the prodigious horn player called her name.

"Minatozaki?" Yoona's caramel eyes captured the anxious girl's gaze, her voice low and drop-dead y.

"Y-yes?"

The doe-eyed girl lets out a soft chuckle that rings like a symphony of violins to Sana's ears, "So you were the one practicing here earlier?"

The blonde girl speaks up again, "Yes."

"You're really freaking good, especially for somebody who has only began to touch a horn a couple of years ago. I'm in disbelief that you would even be assigned eighth chair", Yoona compliments and Sana swears that her heart is going to jump out of her chest anytime soon.

"My father was the one who inspired me", a rigid laughter escapes Sana's mouth.

Yoona raised an eyebrow, "Was?"

Sana took in a shuddering breath, nodding at her sudden query as tears formed her eyes, "H-He was killed in the Syrian War."

Man, I didn't know that Sana's father had died. It's so sad how he can't hear her beautiful music. Yoona thinks. She was cradling tche younger girl lose to her chest, a flood of tears gushing down her ashened cheeks; she really didn't know that Sana went through so much suffering.

"I'm so sorry", was all the older girl could mouth, "I understand how you feel."

Of course Yoona would know what it feels like to lose a parent. Her mom died from AIDS, and it greatly devastated Yoona because she was touring the continent of Europe at a young age while her mom was suffering at home. Sana was enjoying her childhood while her father was in the battlefield, faced with war-torn buildings and dead bodies that began to define his daily life. 

Sana and Chaeyoung's Story To Be Continued.

A/N: Arc One is finished! So I've managed to squeeze in another chapter before my final exams (YAY!) I hope that all of you are doing well. The second arc has begun and there are a lot of stories that have yet to unfold. If you'd like to read more into Yoona's backstory, I have it here. Sana and Chaeyoung's backstories are going to encompass a few more bonuses and then there will be more content from Mina and the others.

Next Chapter Preview:

"Starting this spring semester, I'm expanding the size of the Juilliard Orchestra. I held auditions over the past week since we returned from Paris. Please welcome our new Juilliard Orchestra members", Maestro Gilbert greets with a rare smile, "Some are from the Pops Orchestra as well."

Oh my gosh. It's *BLEEP*

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