ARC TWO

prima donna
Origin: Italian
The leading female singer in the company, the person to whom the prime roles would be given

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 Nineteenth Measure

Tuesday: January 19, 2021

"I.O.I was really daebak last night, huh?" Eunha props her arm around my neck on the way to our musicology class.

I tilted my head, not understanding, "I.O.I is what?"

"A great success", the short violinist defined as we entered the classroom, settling in the back row of seats like we always do, "Who's your favorite member? I like Yeonjung — the main vocalist. She's actually one of the violists in the Juilliard Orchestra."

"I knew that", I mentioned. Of course I'd know who Yeonjung is because this is my third year in the Juilliard Orchestra with her. "But I really didn't expect Yoojung to be such a talented dancer and rapper. Nayoung, too. Those two stood out to me in 'Crush'."

Eunha leans forward in interest, "Oh?"

"They're my housekeepers", I spilled.

She looks equal parts shocked and impressed, "You have two I.O.I members as your housekeepers? Jesus Christ. You better not tell Jackson."

"I can only imagine", I said while massaging my temples. I wouldn't dare let Jackson step a foot into my house unless he's gone through a cleaning inspection. Mark and Junior warned me not to shake his hand, and that's because Jackson doesn't wash his hands after using the restroom.

The two of us continue to talk about I.O.I while waiting for Professor Zarkov to set up her Powerpoint presentation. Yoojung, Kang Minah, and Nayoung are community college students planning to transfer to different colleges. Sejeong is a voice major at the Manhattan School of Music. Jung Chaeyeon and Doyeon are students at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. Yeonjung, Pinky, Sohye, and Chungha are at Juilliard: Pinky is a viola major, Sohye is a drama major, Chungha is a dance major, and Yeonjung is majoring in viola because her parents don't approve of her being a vocalist. Eunha and I don't speak a single word of Somi because Reina, Yuzuna, Shuuka, and Jennie are sitting in the front row.

At around one o'clock in the afternoon, a blizzard attacked the East Coast and the rest of my classes were canceled for the day. A thick blanket of snow covered the doorways and it came to me that I'd be trapped inside Juilliard's Irene Diamond building for the entire day. From indoors, I could hear the wind howling from outside, pounding on the glass walls, begging to come inside. I wanted to use this time to prepare for my upcoming NY Phil and LSO auditions, but all of the practice rooms were occupied and I can't practice anywhere without being watched by a hundred eyeballs.

Near the main entrance, there's a staircase where students congregate in between classes. It's a very popular meeting spot for those working on group projects or those who simply just want to catch up with their friends. Chaeyoung and I are there enjoying a late lunch of Cup Noodles that I spiced up at home, and we only had to borrow my private teacher's microwave to heat it up.

"Holy crap!" Chaeyoung exclaims after slurping up the noodles, "This is good! You made this?"

"There are ramen hacks on YouTube", I chuckled. All I did was add miso paste, sliced smoked salmon, and scallions. Pretty simple enough, but there was an instance where I had to summon Nayoung for help because she's more adept at chopping vegetables than I am.

The percussionist gives me a thumbs-up, "I approve."

We talked about our mornings, our lunch, and last night's gig. Speaking of what happened the night before, for a brink second, I spotted Somi trailing behind Reina and the others on their way to the practice rooms. She was abnormally silent, inspecting her nails while Reina rambled about her repetoire for her senior recital. She's still a third year and she's already planning for next year? I guess that makes sense. I still have no clue about what I'm going to do for my senior recital, but maybe I can ask Nayeon, Jeongyeon, and Momo for some advice.

"Did Nayeon brainwash you?" Chaeyoung asks after peering at my phone, which has an Oh My Girl album cover displayed on the lock screen.

I snatched my phone away from her and settled it inside my coat pocket, "I... I can explain!"

She laughs out loud, "What happened to being strictly classical?"

"I need a break. Classical music drives me crazy sometimes", I sighed, stretching out my legs and propping them on top of my instrument case, "And besides, I won't be able to listen to K-pop once I start drilling down on the required repetoire for my NY Phil and LSO auditions."

"I know but I thought that pop music wasn't your taste."

"K-pop is actually..." I put a finger to my chin. What's the word? "Uplifting. I may not understand what they're saying, but the feeling is just..."

"Indescribable", Chaeyoung finishes my sentence.

"'Je T'aime and I Found Love are my favorite songs", I said while plucking out the lone earphone that hung in my left ear.

"Is it because you're in love?" Chaeyoung gives me that face. It's almost as if she and Jeongyeon were sisters in a past life.

I repositioned myself and snuggled my case in my arms,"The only relationship I'm in is with my fagott."

She sticks her tongue out at me, "Nerd."

"HEY!" I screamed out loud, flustered. "What about you, smartass?"

Chaeyoung plops her backpack in between her feet, fishes out a large black case and unveils pairs of various mallets, "And this is only a few of many pairs. I have enough sticks and mallets to fill up a large suitcase. They're practically my children."

"Why am I getting this sentiment about you and Jeongyeon being related?" I thought. Jeongyeon calls her timpani mallets her 'children' as well.

"That's because we are."

My mind draws a long blank, "What?"

"Jeongyeon is my second cousin", she expounds after twirling one of her drum sticks with her fingers, "She's the daughter of my mom's cousin, who was my elementary school's band teacher. Jeongyeon is part of the reason why I play percussion instruments."

This fact sparks me with curious interest. Chaeyoung explains to me that Jeongyeon often came over to her house in San Francisco to bang on pots and pans and various tupperware when they were younger. Her ability to create harmony with questionable items is what sparked Chaeyoung's interest for percussion instruments. They attended the same elementary school in San Francisco's Mission District before Jeongyeon and her family moved to Brooklyn to begin middle school. Jeongyeon was the one who introduced Chaeyoung to her "Crack Squad".

After answering my query, Chaeyoung abruptly gets up on her feet, "Dammit, Mina. I now have the sudden urge to tap on things because of you."

I'm not comprehending what she's trying to convey.

"I want to make music", she simplifies.

"What are you going to do? All of the practice rooms are taken."

" that. I know of another place."

The Twentieth Measure

Chaeyoung is at it again — spontaneously playing in a wide, empty space within the main building. Jeongyeon is there too for some reason.

There's a lone marimba lying in the vast stretch of Room 543 — the third floor orchestra studio where masterclasses are often carried out. Chaeyoung removes her footwear and rolls her sleeves up before gripping her mallets. She begins playing Keiko Abe's Dream of the Cherry Blossoms, her initial audition piece for the Juilliard Orchestra except this time, it's not disjointed and discordant. Her interpretation is transfixing, bringing me into a fantastic realm caught in an expanse of progressively falling cherry blossoms. Her mallets strike the wooden bars in different forms — from as powerfully as flowers blossoming in vibrant colors in the springtime, to as delicately as the thinnest petals bursting out from lower branches of the tree in the fall. Chaeyoung is the grower and the instruments are her garden.

Chaeyoung's smile when she's performing is incredible. It shows that she's fully immersing herself in the garden that she created with her illustruous strain of notes. Butterflies seemed to escape from the pit of her stomach and made a home within her music. Her smile is a ray of sunshine that gives a warm glow to the chilly practice space; her smile matches her earthy, mesmerizing performance.

"You're amazing", I congratulate her.

"Mina", Chaeyoung gestures in between the organization of her mallets, "Since I have a new set of hearing aids, I want to hear you play."

. I saw this coming.

"I want to hear bassoon-chan too!" Jeongyeon chimes in. Oh my god.

"I can't."

"Oh yes you can", Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung urge simultaneously. Jesus, it's like they can read each other's minds. Chaeyoung is deaf too so this confuses me. But then again, there's only the three of us in this empty space and the only touch of noise is the sounds of our breathing.
 
"My lips are chapped."

"Then unchap them!" they speak concurrently again.

"Don't be so modest", Jeongyeon grips both of my shoulders, "If you want to be first chair in the New York Philharmonic or the London Symphony Orchestra, you have to be a showoff — a superstar; a Prima donna. Play something lyrical. I want to hear your bassoon sing."

Jeongyeon is right. How can you expect to grab the spotlight if you don't have the confidence? This thought takes me back to last night at the Asian Invasion. Somi facial expressions and sense of humor during her talk was captivating enough to put the audience in a state of trance. Nayoung and Yoojung came off charismatic with their powerful voices and vigorous dances. All three girls were comfortable in their own skin and it showed.

. If I can for thousands of spectators, I could play here, just for two people.

Giving into their whim, I assembled my instrument then closed my eyes, waiting for a meaningful piece to hit me in the head. Bach — his first suite. I haven't played a piece that was anything but an assignment in a long time, so I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I'm staring at those two. But once the notes become apparent, I begin to relax. I'm not one for unplanned requests, but if I have my bassoon, I don't feel so stark.

I initiate a quick warm up before Bach, catching my breath until I'm ready for the reed.

Playing in an open space changes me a bit. I feel alive and totally free, like a bird released from its cage. I'm breathing even though I'm mostly ejecting air from my lungs. Breath is what connects life to consciousness and unites the body to the mind. Bach always wanted a soloist to breathe with more imagination and freedom rather than being straight-forward. To most people, the high notes is what gives people goosebumps. For me, it's the low register. The deep, bass notes is what crawls down my spine and keeps me sane at the same time. They act as a refuge — a great escape from my parents, The Six, the numerous private instructors that I had to bear with when I was a child — everything.

I open my eyes and they're clapping. Chaeyoung looks like she just might cry.

"Your music is like good ", Jeongyeon chuckles.

I choke on my spit, "WHAT?"

"Ha ha ha!" she wraps an arm around my neck, "That's a compliment, you know?"

"That was really beautiful", Chaeyoung's genuine smile is what sets the world back in rotation.

"Bach at it with that confidence again, ey?" Jeongyeon cracks a pun and I'm about to slap her in the face. "I never thought that I could enjoy his first suite on a bassoon rather than a cello. Don't tell Tzuyu I said that or else she'll push me down the stairs."

*RING*

NO.

There goes that same ringing sound again — the high-pitched tone you get in the dead-center of your brain after a really loud concert or sporting event. It's my first tinnitus attack today. I thought that the medications would be working. Why am I having it here, in this wide quiet room?

"Mina!" Jeongyeon jumps out, "Are you okay?"

The ringing subsides and all that's left is the low whistle of tinnitus that follows.

"Yeah", I said breathlessly, though I still feel like my voice is in another building.

The Twenty-First Measure 

Three times a week before Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals, I took online ASL (American Sign Language) classes through Skype. Rehearsals were canceled due to the ongoing storm outside, causing me to hole myself inside Juilliard's cozy library with my MacBook and a bottled mocha frappucino from the vending machine. Ms. Jung is my instructor with horn-rimmed glasses and a slight Korean accent. She has two daughters: the eldest one is a voice major at Juilliard named Wheein. The youngest is Chaeyeon, an I.O.I member and a student at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts.

"My goodness, Mina. You pick up things really fast. I think at this rate, I could give you the final exam", Ms. Jung compliments me, "Tell me, how do you learn things so fast? Is there somebody that you practice with? Is it correlated to how you master instruments within months?"

"I... I have this friend", I spare the details about Chaeyoung. That girl isn't fond of her whereabouts being known after what The Six did to her.

*Ring*

The caller ID on my Skype displays Sana's phone number and the profile picture she took when we were in Paris, back when her hair was blonde and her cheeks were as squishy as a chipmunk's. Now her hair is black and absent of baby fat. She lost a lot of weight after the competition.

"I don't mean to leave so soon, but my dear friend requests my presence."

"Oh okay", Ms. Jung smiles, "We'll talk about your sign language exam during the next lesson."
 
I hover my cursor over to the "answer with video" button and another window opens, Sana's face instantly popping on my screen. She looks tired, dark circles under her eyes only making her look pale in comparison. There's a ring-shaped scar in the center of her lips, almost as if she were deficient of blood. Judging by the wooden drawer and the dispersed blankets in the backdrop, Sana is most likely resting in her hotel room. 

"Good evening, little duck", she grins and it her lifts her cheekbones.

I let the nickname slide, staring at her lips and the horn hickey in its center, "You're working too hard."

"Says the one who blows her bassoon before the sun rises", she teases. I let that slide as well, because it's actually true.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"I'm— I'll catch up with you guys!" Sana turns her head to the side in response to two women, "Sorry, what was the question?"

"Who was that?"

Sana sighs, "Leelanee Sterrett and Sarah Willis — my hotel mates."

"Holy ", I choked on my frappucino. Those names she just mentioned are professional hornists. "You're performing with the big leagues?"

"And Phil Myers, Gail Williams, Dale Clevenger, my uncle Takayuki from 'The President's Own', and three other hornists I can't remember the names of", her tongue darts out, "I was just on my way to dinner with them. Oh, and our pianist is Lang Lang!"

Freaking Lang Lang.

My face falls when I hear the door close behind her, "Don't you want to go with them? I feel bad for holding you back."

"I'd rather talk to you", her voice comes out high-pitched like a begging dog, "Not that I hate Lang Lang and the others; they're nice, wickedly talented, and I look up to all of them. But I'm the youngest in the ensemble and I don't understand 'adult talk' all too well."  

"I don't think anyone does", I put my drink down. My hands are wet from the condensation of the bottle.

"Mina", Sana smiles sadly, "As I'm doing all of these sudden events, interviews, and performances, I think I'm starting to understand the pressure that you've been faced with before. I'm so focused in maintaining good image, trying to please everyone, not making mistakes and keeping up to acceptable standards during practices with Sterrett and the others. It's just... it's just..."

"Overwhelming, isn't it?"

She just might break into tears, "I think I'm just starting to learn what 'haters' are. I mean, I'm used to it because the SF Youth Orchestra members never liked me, but haters are different — they invest every ounce of their time into making your life miserable."

"Sana. They're not worth it", I consoled, "They spend their time criticizing other people's lives because they refuse to correct their own."

My body is trembling and heat is stinging my eyes. I think I'm about to cry too because I was in her state for years, and just recently in Paris too. To be so young and to have all these expectations and criticisms upon you is devastating. You can’t let yourself breathe for a split second because everyone is vigilantly watching you like a hawk — noting everything you do wrong, focusing on the negatives rather than the positives, lingering on all of your mistakes rather than your accomplishments. No human deserves to live like that.

Her eyes fixate on my mouth, "You look sad."

I buried my face in my hand, "I had a lot going on."

"I heard", she speaks through slackened lips, "It was on the news. That's also why I didn't go out with them. I don't want to drink tonight."

"It's not just that. My hear—"

In a flash, Sana's face disappears and a pop-up discloses that I've lost all internet access. That's weird. Juilliard is known for their superb wi-fi reception. Then my eyes evaded my MacBook screen to see that the library is pitch black. Not a single trace of sound was made by another human being. I came to the realization that my MacBook was the only device giving light. There's a blackout at school, and it's all because of the storm.

Another factor hits me: I'm not just alone — I'm alone, in the ing dark. I hate the dark.

I closed my MacBook and tucked in the spare pocket of my bassoon case before checking my phone, seeing that I still enough battery to use the flashlight app. It's pitch black in here and I couldn't breathe, believing that someone was choking me. I gently took my bassoon case and slinged the straps over my shoulders like a backpack, taking my frappucino drink in one hand and my phone in the other. 

My heart is running a marathon with every step I take in the blackness of the library. There were instances where it seemed that the world was slowly disappearing in front of me. I wanted to curl up into a ball in the corner and sleep until the blackout was over, but this facility is boundless and there's no way in hell I can close my eyes comfortably knowing that I could get strangled at any sec—

"BOO!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!" I feel a hand on my neck and it makes me jump out of fear. My frappucino bottle escapes my grip at the same time.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" I turn around and suddenly, all I see is Jeongyeon heartily laughing at my horrified complexion. Everything else falls away. "Holy , bassoon-chan. You're so cute when you're scared."

"WHAT THE IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I cried, still hyperventilating in shock.

"Hah! I'm so sorry, Mina!" Jeongyeon pulls me into a warm hug, still chuckling out loud, "I thought that it'd be funny!"

I pounded her chest, which is shielded by layers of shirts, "You're such a jerk."

"You're done with your ASL class, right? Come join us upstairs", she tugs my free arm, "We're preparing for an outreach performance and Jihyo's group needs a bassoonist."

"Outreach performance?"

"Chaeyoung and I are going to do a percussion duet", Jeongyeon explains, "Jackson, Eunha, Momo, Yugyeom, Jihyo, Yuju, Tzuyu, Sowon, Dahyun, Umji, Nayeon, and Minyoung are playing Appalachian Spring. The piece calls for a bassoonist and Yerin, SinB, Mark, and Junior can't do it."

"So that leaves me, huh?"

"I've also been hoping that this performance will give you the opportunity to you know, uplift your spirits", Jeongyeon grins, "Will you do it?"

I take a moment to ponder on this. I still have to prepare for my NY Phil and LSO auditions in the spring, but outreach performances are great resume boosters and only come few and far between. Not only are these performances beneficial to a musician's career; they're incredibly rewarding.

Appalachian Spring is a beautiful piece too.

"Alright. I'll do it", I tell her.

The Twenty-Second Measure

Our practice session for next week's outreach performance drags on for the entire night that we're trapped in the main building. The silver moonlight washed through the glass walls and poured into the room, not enough to ignite the space, but enough for us to look at our score. 

Minyoung is on piano; Jackson, Eunha, Momo, and Yugyeom are on violin; Jihyo and Yuju on viola; Tzuyu and Sowon on cello; Dahyun as our lone double bassist; Umji on flute; Nayeon on clarinet; and me on bassoon. Yuju, who is a voice major and one of the second violinists in the Juilliard Pops Orchestra, volunteered to accompany first violist Jihyo as the second violist — another instrument she dabbled on in her free time. Jeongyeon and Chaeyoung, who are performing a percussion duet together, departed to a different room on the same floor as us.

Everyone voted on having Jihyo as the de facto leader of our ensemble. She and her well-trained ear and nit-picking on balance and technique while Momo makes suggestions on style and flow here and there. It surprises me how much Momo contributes to this group with her philosophy and knowledge on expression. I initially thought that she was just a dork with an undying passion for food.

"I believe that the Simple Gifts part should be made into a solo", Momo advocates while looking at her own score.

"Why?" Yugyeom questions.

"Because it's called Simple Gifts, hence the word 'simple'."

"I think what she's trying to convey is that we shouldn't overcomplicate this passage with all of our instruments playing at once", Umji reiterates while running a rag through her flute, "It'll defeat the purpose of this song's message."

"Then who will do the solo?" Jackson asks smugly, implying himself before Eunha flicks him on his forehead with her fingers.

"I vote for Mina", Sowon enthusiastically declares.

"Me?" my reed escapes from my mouth. It's one of my tier reeds because I'm saving the good ones for our performance.

"Yes, princess. You", Dahyun uses her lips to point at me.

Yuju, Eunha, Tzuyu, and Umji gather in, "We vote for Princess Mina too."

Goddammit Dahyun.

"Jeongyeon showed us your Bach from a few hours ago", Nayeon waves her phone in the air, indicating that the sneaky timpanist must've taken a video of me playing in front of her and Chaeyoung. It's a trap. I'm going to stick this reed up her next time she walks into this room. 

Wait a minute. Maybe Jeongyeon is trying to do something good for me.

"So where is this outreach performance going to take place?" I ask them.

Dahyun is just chuckling in her stool like a bumbling idiot, "You'll find out, Your Highness."

BONUS (Part 1/2 of Sana's Performance)

Friday: January 22, 2021

The weather is amiable on the morning of the presidential inauguration. The crowd was especially grateful for the sun finally shining above the sky after dreadful clouds have been obscuring it for weeks. A cool breeze reminded everyone that they're still in the middle of the winter season, but it wasn't so bad as compared to the blizzard in New York and other surrounding states. 

The newly-elected, democratic president made his way outside, donned in a formal suit and walking beside his wife, The First Lady. The musical ensemble that he arranged sat in the row in front of him, Sana sitting in the far right of the group with her hair in an elegant side ponytail and her body draped in a stunning red dress made of soft, satiny fabric. The other women wore the same while the men sported full black tuxes.

While the United States Marine Band was performing their four ruffles and flourishes and the vice president was taking his oath of office, Sana's knees buckled together in anxiousness. She never thought that she could be this nervous, but who wouldn't when there's a cameraman on your right and an amplifer dangling above your section's heads? Not only that, but the entire nation has their eyes on her and the other performers. Outside of the White House are hundreds of thousands of spectators, all wearing heavy coats and waving miniature to life-sized versions of the American flag, directing their eyes on the important figure sitting in the row behind her. Later their eyes will all be on her and the other musicians.

*tap*

"Huh?" Sana's eyes flickered from the crowd to her uncle Takayuki Uenobori of The President's Own.

"You don't have to think of this performance as payment to the public", her uncle squeezed her cold hand, "Just play for you and your family."

Sana's eyes wandered the premises until the familiar sight of her mother caught her stinging eye. She was standing in the front row of the American crowd since five o'clock in the morning, holding her stance just to see her daughter perform. The tension and anxiety that dawdled minutes ago seemed to wither within seconds as happiness and warmth creeped all over Sana's soul.  

Then she took heed to her mother's words at the cemetery and looked up at the sky — an unbroken backdrop of blue with a flock of birds performing a beautifully choreographed dance, pairs of wings swooping in the chilly air as the essence of life. The birds reminded her of her father: a portrait of his colorful and inspiring life, reflecting his love for music. He was able to smile and revel in the joys of life even in his final days. 

After a minute or so of respectful silence, it's time for them to perform. 

Aaron Copland's Promise of Living. On this day, the choral anthem and orchestral suite had been transformed and arranged by prodigious composer Seohyun for piano and eight horns. The message is embedded in the title — don't feel hopeless because difficult times will lead to better days. 

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