ARC ONE

bocca chiusa

Origin: Latin
Closed Mouth, i.e. a wordless humming (in choral music)

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 Eleventh Measure

Wednesday: September 9, 2020 (Now, Junior Year)

I survived orientation, wherein the Juilliard Orchestra had to perform for the incoming freshmen.

I glance over at my schedule and narrow down what I have to go through on a daily basis: 3-4 hours of rehearsals with the Juilliard Orchestra every day, 60 minutes of bassoon lessons every Monday and Wednesday, 90 minutes of studio classes every Friday, 30 minutes of piano lessons every Tuesday and Thursday, 90 minutes of Music History of the 20th-21st Century every Monday and Friday, 2 hours of a double reed repertory class every Wednesday, 90 minutes of Music Theory IV every Tuesday and Thursday.

And there's also the daily necessities of sleeping, eating, bathing, homework, individual practice, reed-making, and what have you.

Today is Wednesday and it is the busiest day of my week because I have my one hour lesson at 1 p.m., my repertory class at 3:30 p.m., and then Juilliard Orchestra rehearsals from 7 p.m. to 10 p.m. Way to start off my third year, right?

Since I stay at Juilliard's Meredith Wilson Residence Hall, getting to campus wasn't a problem. The only thing separating the residence hall from the school is a bridge, and the cool thing is that it only takes thirty seconds to cross the bridge. But I like to take my time and look down at the slew of cars, mainly taxis, clogging up West 65th Street. There are also high school kids taking a gander at the main building of the Juilliard School, a place where their hopes and dreams lie. Back when I was in the pre-college division, I would leave LaGuardia and walk over to Juilliard since it was only a block away.

Ah, those were the easy days.

I drill in some practice time before I head off to my lesson. A while ago, Maestro Gilbert revealed the lineup for the 2020/2021 concert season of all Juilliard ensembles. After the three-week Orientation — this three week cycle comprised of seminars, workshops, and rehearsals - our concert season is going to begin with Stravinsky and Strauss, Andris Nelsons of the Boston Symphony Orchestra being our guest conductor. I see The Rite of Spring printed on the syllabus in bolded font and my jaw drops. I haven’t played this piece in years and the opening solo is known to be a for bassoon players. And as a section leader, I have to study my parts before anyone else.

Like seriously. Who starts off a new concert season with The Rite of Spring? It’s not even spring; it’s autumn. Alan Gilbert really wants to make an eccentric first-impression to the masses.

My anxiety eases as soon as I get to my bassoon lesson. Thank god that Dr. Cseszneky is my teacher or else I'd get screwed over by this meaner, German bassoon professor that my seat partner, Mingyu, has. Dr. Cseszneky is my tall, Hungarian professor whom my peers swoon over because he looks like a carbon copy of Ryan Gosling. I use the "Dr." title because he has a Doctor of Musical Arts degree. Occasionally, he'll have unwanted guests (half of whom aren't even music majors) barge into his room during lessons to drop off gifts or just plainly flirt with him. Last year, I stepped on a pack of condoms while adjusting my seat strap. Dr. Cseszneky is the youngest member of the Juilliard faculty and second bassoonist of the New York Philharmonic, along with my father. He grew up in San Francisco and was a member of San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra.

Our lesson goes well, and Kevin (Dr. Cseszneky makes me call him by his first name but I normally refuse to) gives me a bunch of insight of how to make my solo in The Rite of Spring sound smoother and easier to play.

The Twelfth Measure

And just when I thought things were going to get better, they don't.

Before my repertory class at 3:30 p.m., I end up stuck with Reina at The Juilliard & SAB Cafe as we wait for our other friends to get out of their classes. She hovers over to me because she doesn't want to sit with strangers. And before I knew it, my plans to eat a peaceful lunch and study for my next class have been tossed out the window. To make things worse, the place is filled with voice singing arias or drama majors reciting monologues, almost like a segment of Fame.

It's painstakingly quiet as Reina taps her fingers against the table, scrolling through her Pinterest feed while I start "air-playing” my solo. I had an inclination to say something, but my mind was telling me that if I say something stupid again, I could possibly tick her off and it would send me into another panic attack. Reina didn't look like she was in a good mood either, so I didn't even bother. Our meal arrives and Reina is still occupied with her phone. She doesn't even bother to say 'thank you' to the waitress.

"Sorry we're late!" I hear Karen's loud voice over a chorus of noisy Juilliard students. The other girls are piled up behind the 5'4" girl.

"Where in the heavens were you guys?" Reina moans, "I tried to text all of you!"

"We all had our individual lessons", Karen answers, "We had to wait for because she took the longest."

A different waiter strolls by, one with the competency of a confused toddler tying their shoelaces while wearing mittens on. His name is Youngjae and he looked like one of those desperate teenagers trying to help his parents pay off expensive Manhattan rent. He seemed to forget what my friends wanted to order before the words left their lips. It was tiring, seeing them have to repeat their words while they, especially an exhausted Karen and Reina, become more frustrated by the minute.

"Can you believe that boy?" Karen gripes about waitress, "How the hell did he get the job?"

"He's probably special", Yuzuna jokes, and she doesn't quite use the word as a compliment. My stomach churns.

"Don't worry girls", Reina assures, "If there is another mishap, I'm going to make a scene."

The whole time my friends are making vulgar jokes about the waiter, I sit quietly and try to divert my mind to a more peaceful place. But it didn't work. The good and bad thoughts are brawling for dominance, and so far, the bad thoughts are overpowering. I felt helpless. Even though my friends say things that I don't agree with, I wouldn't dare move nor say a word in my defense. They'll think I'm stupid.

"Sorry guys, that horrid Ein Heldenleben viola excerpt was killing my left hand. The one at #77 to four measures after #79 and the one from #94 to #98", Karen admits, cracking her knuckles, "That's why I'm kind of cranky."

"Oh no, we get it!" Reina says, "We first violinists have it hard too! You got your solo down, Mina?"

"Y-Yeah!" I pathetically reply, realizing that I had absentmindedly dumped a ton of balsamic vinegar on our orange basil salad. Reina snorted.

"You ed up the salad!" Yuzuna gripes as she pulls her hair. I really want to disappear now.

"It's okay! I'll eat it!" Shuuka volunteers, "It's still food!"

"You're going to get fat", Karen warned.

"I haven't eaten since signing up for the masterclass with Albrecht Mayer", Shuuka complains, "And that was hours ago."

"The Berlin Phil—" Karen pauses, taking time for that name to sink into her head, "You mean the Berlin Philharmonic is here?"

"Didn't you guys read the program for our Orchestra Orientation?" I sound surprised, "They're going to be our mentors for the three weeks that they're in the U.S., along with the NY Phil and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. And on Saturday, they're also going to perform Bach's St. Matthew Passion, conducted by Sir Simon Rattle, at Park Avenue Armory. And on Sunday, Beethoven's Eighth and Ninth symphonies, also conducted by Sir Simon Rattle himself, at the David Geffen Hall."

"They just recently hired a bunch of new members, right?" I questioned out of nowhere, silently lamenting on it. Reina, Karen, and Yuzuna are gawking at me like the awkward turtle I am. This is what happens when you grow up not having any other bassoonists except yourself. I was practically first chair in my own section all throughout middle school and throughout LaGuardia. The youth orchestras were an exception, since a traditional orchestra needs at least two bassoonists. But that did nothing to improve my social skills since the second chair wouldn't even talk to me.

Oh my god. Did I say something stupid?

"You're right, Mina!" Shuuka remembered, and I exhaled in relief, "They have a small Korean Girl as their new bass trombonist. The Takahashi sisters said that she went to the same high school as them.”

"Welp. There goes your dreams of ever joining the Berlin Phil", Shuuka downplays as she stares at her phone, scrolling through a list of vacant seats on the Berlin Philharmonic’s website, "All viola positions have been taken."

"You'll never know!" Karen argues, "Maybe another spot will open up."

"I don't mean to sound morbid or anything, but the only time a position will ever open up in the Berlin Phil is if someone retires or if someone dies", I laugh, but that doesn't convince the oboist otherwise. She's still dead-set on her dream.

"No offense but some of the viola players in the Berlin Phil do look old", Yuzuna observes, "One or two of them are bound to retire."

"Hah!" Karen teases me and Shuuka, and the older sister nastily sticks her tongue out.

Everything was all giggles and smiles until Nayeon and her new group of friends spot a vacant table next to us. From the corner of my eye, I could see Yuzuna taking the initiative to bring Reina into the conversation and warn her about the incoming trouble up ahead.

"Oh no", Reina sighs, "Not these weirdos."

"What's wrong with them?" Karen innocently asks, "They look cute. Especially that Tzuyu gi—"

Yuzuna covers Karen's mouth with her hands before she could spit out another stupid word, "Shh! They're imbeciles!"

"Since when?"

"Since Nayeon joined them."

I get it now. Whomever Nayeon is associated with automatically becomes our mortal enemies.

I need to explain who they are now, huh?

They are members of the Juilliard Pops Orchestra— the music school's newest ensemble, having their inaugural year in the 2018/2019 season. Many members in our orchestra share this widespread prejudice that playing show tunes and popular music were weird. We didn't really care about them until their president and timpanist, Yoo Jungyeon; their co-vice presidents, violist Park Jihyo and violinist Momo Hirai; treasurer and cellist, Chou Tzuyu; secretary and double bassist, Kim Dahyun; and concertmasters, Jackson and Eunha; fought with our members for practice space. Thus came the consensus that both the Juilliard Orchestra and the Juilliard Pops Orchestra would have to take turns using the Alice Tully Hall and the studio, decreasing our efficiency as a group and the amount of practice time on our hands. And now that Nayeon is with them, my friends' bitterness towards the ensemble grew only stronger.

"You guys, I have to go", I slide out of my chair and reach for my bassoon case sitting on the floor.

"Minari, it's only 2:30", Shuuka comments, looking down at her watch.

"I know but..." my mind is racing for excuses, "I need to make more reeds for tonight's rehearsal!"

"Can't you do that here?" Karen inquires.

"My materials aren't here", I'm biting my lip, hoping that they believe me, "A-And I have another class at 3:30. Besides, you guys wouldn't want to have scraps of wood wafting the air as you eat. It's just unsanitary."

"Mina, we're done eating", Yuzuna furrows her eyebrow, then she leans forward to whisper in my ear, "We're going to... you know, gossip."

Gossip. I hate that term. It'd make me think back to those days when I was forced to attend those weekly family reunions. Those gatherings became competitions for my parents, aunts, and uncles to see whose child has the most achievements. I was in elementary school and so were most of my cousins, yet they were always getting straight A's, doing volunteer work, winning spelling bee competitions, or something. My parents had nothing to brag about except the fact that I could play the clarinet “well”, as I wasn't particularly stellar in bassoon back then. In fact, bassoon wasn't even my first instrument; it was the clarinet, and I had terrible lung capacity back then because my immune system was crap. I didn't take up the bassoon until I was ten.

And then for some odd reason, I’m having this ringing sensation in my ear. The sounds of loud chatter in the background start to fade out and I feel another migraine coming on. My wellness counselor, Mrs. Chan, infers that these migraines are symptoms that occur with my occasional panic attacks.

I’m not completely sure, but I think I’m having a panic attack.

"You're not upset that Nayeon left you, right?" Reina asks sweetly yet deceptively, somehow knowing about our past history together as friends.

Bad memories are clogging my head. The room spins and everyone around me disappears. My heart is hammering my chest like a snake trying to shed its skin. My gut tells me to sprint, but my childhood memories are reminding me of how much of a coward I am because I never spoke up about the fact that my parents overworked me to exhaustion.

"No, not at all", I calmly respond, and then I walk out of the café before another panic attack could come on.

"Mina! Wait—" Shuuka's voice sounds in my ear for split second, but I don't waste any time. I'm gone before she could finish her sentence.

The Thirteenth Measure

Once I'm out the door, I start running. Strands of my crimson red hair dance with the cool, autumn wind and obstructing my view. But I don't care. I can't look back. Ms. Chan, the wellness counselor at the Juilliard School, instructed me to take these steps. These directions are practically nailed to my brain — like pieces of paper thumbtacked against a bulletin board, each page highlighting each step.  

• If you're in the early stages of a panic attack, get yourself moving to keep your blood flowing and help your body breathe a bit easier.

• Find a safe, preferably empty, space for you to gather your thoughts.

• Practice slow breathing. Hyperventilation can lead to chest pains, lightheadedness, and breathlessness.

There's barely any people inside the Riverside Public Library, so I advance past the friendly librarian and and hide in one of the aisles located on the opposite end of the entrance — the rear back of the library. I crouch down and hug my knees, practicing one of the three breathing exercises that I learned from the wellness counselor. The 4-7-8 method. Inhale through my nose to a mental count of four, hold my breath for a count of seven, and exhaling through my mouth to a count of eight. Rinse and repeat.

Once I regain my conscience, I take note of my surroundings. I look up from the cradle of my arms and realize that I'm in the "Fantasy" section, encompassed by fables and fairy tales shuffled loosely in shelves. A tall shadow looms over my figure — it’s the librarian. She was in her mid-fifties or so, donned in one of those vintage, plaid dresses that my friends wouldn't approve of. She wore a concerned expression on her pale, wrinkled face as she adjusted her tortoiseshell round eyeglasses.

"Miss. Are you okay?" She asked.

I help myself up on my legs, brushing off particles of dust that could've collected on my leggings, "Yeah. I'm fine, thank you."

Then her eyes dropped towards my bassoon case, "You're a musician?"

"Yes", I nodded.

"At the Juilliard School?"

"Yes."

"My daughter goes there too."

My mouth gaped open, "Really?"

"Yes. She was a member of the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra and now she’s a member of the Juilliard Pops Orchestra. I'd always get tears in my eyes when she plays, because she really loves what she does and it shows through her music."

“You’re from San Francisco?”

“Yes”, she nodded, “But our family moved here to attend LaGuardia the year after you had auditioned. We also made this decision so that we could stay close to our daughter. It’s a miracle how she got accepted to the Juilliard School, especially since she’s partially deaf and has to perform barefoot to feel the music better. And luckily Jihyo and Sana, her friends from the San Francisco Symphony Youth Orchestra, are also attending Juilliard.”

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s your daughter’s name?” I ask inquisitively.

“Chaeyoung”, the librarian answered.

Chaeyoung? Where the hell have I heard that name before?

"Hey", I say, glancing at the time on my phone screen, "I don't mean to leave, but I have a repertory class in thirty minutes."

"Oh, don't worry about it", the librarian cracks a smile, "I hope we'll meet again soon."

"I can guarantee you that this won't be my last visit", I smile back. But it's the truth — I have another safe haven for my incoming attacks.

The Fourteenth Measure

Thursday: September 10, 2020

By the time I step out of one of the residence hall's shared bathrooms, it was already past midnight. I want to sleep, but my hair is still damp and I'm still wearing a bathrobe. I also find it disgusting to wake up to a batch of soaking wet pillows under my head.

My dorm room is at the end of the hallway on the twenty-fifth floor of the residence hall. I have one roommate: Yoon Chaekyung.

Other than Reina and the rest of our squad, Yoon Chaekyung is one of the most popular girls mainly due to the fact that she is considered as one of the ‘beauty queens’ in our year. She’s dubbed as the second ‘Im Yoona’ because of her attractiveness and her outstanding horn-playing abilities. Chaekyung is the Juilliard Orchestra’s principal hornist and also the girlfriend to piccolo player, Kim Sohee. Not only that, but her style of playing is as intricate and precise to that of Yoona’s. If you were to put Yoona and Chaekyung behind a screen and ask them to play the same piece, you wouldn’t even be able to guess who played first because their sound is insanely identical.

“Welcome back!” Chaekyung stands up from her desk and greets me with a warm and comforting hug.

“Hey”, I sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Chaekyung pouts, motioning me to sit next to her on the bottom bunk (where she sleeps).

“Not really. How’s Sohee?” I ask in an attempt to dodge her question.

“Still a vegan. Still dragging me to her cardio dance class every now and then”, she said in a monotone voice, “How ‘bout you?”

“Meh.”

Chaekyung seemed concerned, “Was it because of today’s rehearsal?”

I sheepishly nodded.

Today (or should I say, yesterday) turned out to be another long day. I left my reed case at my repertory class, and I didn't realize this until a few minutes before orchestra rehearsal. I had to suffice with the one that I've been using for the whole week, and then Maestro Gilbert called me out for missing my entrance in The Rite of Spring. It was the first day of rehearsals with the freshmen observing us from the sidelines. And to make matters worse, the director of the Metropolitan Opera, Yannick Nézet-Séguin, came to visit and witness my mistake. So much for first impressions.

“Hey, Mina. Do you mind being alone for a few minutes while I go grab a coffee in the student lounge?” Chaekyung asked.

“This late?”

“I just signed up for a masterclass with Stefan de Leval Jezierski a few hours ago because nobody told me that the Berlin Philharmonic would be at the Juilliard School”, Chaekyung explained, her eyebags glaringly noticeable as I further inspected her face, “And now I have to study the third movement of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony like it’s the death of me.”

“Oh, okay”, I agreed. Trust me. I’ve been in the same situation as my roommate before.

As soon as Chaekyung leaves the room (and thank god that she closed the door too), I settle my bassoon case next to the table lamp and strip off my bathrobe. I pull on some underwear and slip on a silk pajama top. Chaekyung has lived with me long enough to understand that I don’t favor wearing pants to bed. In fact, Chaekyung goes commando when she sleeps.  

"Fuuuucccckkk I'm so tired", I drawl out my words at my bedroom wall, cluttered with posters of popular Japanese boy bands such as Hey! Say! JUMP, Kis-My-Ft2, A.B.C-Z, Arashi, NEWS, SMAP, J Soul Brothers, EXILE, Yoona, Yoona, Yoona—

Wait a goddamn minute. I don't like any of those groups, and I don't even recall hanging up any of those posters on that wall.

“Hello?"

"!" I yell, accidentally hitting my head against the wall. My heart is beating rapidly and my breathing quickens as a result from the sudden voice. My head is filled with anxiety and terror. Someone has snuck into my room, and I don't even know how. I also question how this person managed to seize Im Yoona posters, but I just assume that Chaekyung ordered them online on a previous date.

I scramble for a broom, using it as a defense mechanism, "Wh-Who’s there?"

"It's me!" she squeals using her high-pitched voice, "I'm your new roommate!"

I my head in confusion, "I'm sorry? New roommate?"

"Uh? Yeah?" she snorted, "And just in case you were wondering, I did hang up those posters."

“Er…” I still had the broom in my hands, “Show yourself!”

The girl reveals herself by stepping out of the closet, clothed in something I would describe as geek-esque. Obviously, she was a Sailor Moon fan, as described by her Sailor Moon pajamas, crisis moon compact earrings, chibi moon hairclips, even her hairstyle is similar of that as to Usagi Tsukino herself. She's cute, though — big eyes, blonde hair, chubby cheeks — she resembles a squirrel. She’s slightly taller than me. She couldn't be caucasian, is what my gut is telling me. Maybe she's the one who hung up those posters.

I was relieved that this girl didn’t turn out to be a spy, “What’s your name?”

“OH MY GOD! YOU’RE NOT WEARING ANY PANTS! NEWSFLASH, MINA MYOUI IS NOT WEARING PANTS!” She screeched before collapsing on the floor, bursting into laughter. I look down at my legs and she’s right. I’m only wearing a nightshirt that goes past the bottom of my cheeks.

“Shut up!” My cheeks turn into a hot red, "Who are you?"

“MINA! You don’t remember me? From elementary school?” She stomped her foot. Angry eyes were just the start, then came the strut, and finally the clipped words. Petal would turn, all of a smoulder, but her attractiveness was gone. “And you’re wearing penguin pajamas, how cute!”

I spank her with the broom, “Answer my question, goddammit!”

“Sana Minatozaki”, she finally cooled down after I slapped some sense into her.

Hold up. I feel like I’ve heard this name before, but I can’t recall clearly when.

Oh, right.

I met in her band class when we were in the fourth grade. During this time period, the other girls in The Spectacular Six (now five) have gone to study abroad in Europe and enhance their music-making skills. Sana was the one who kept me company when nobody else would because truth be told, I wasn't a very approachable kid back then. In fact, I think there's still a part of me that doesn't make me that likeable, but I haven't figured out what yet. Appearance-wise, Sana must’ve changed a lot. I don’t remember her having blonde hair nor being taller than me six years ago.

“Don’t you hate me for leaving you for LaGuardia”, I thought, laying the broom down on the floor.

“I tried not to. I was horrible at controlling my temper back then, but emotional therapy has really helped”, she says casually, as if nothing had gone wrong in the past. I have no idea what Sana meant when she says that she “tries” not to hate me, but it’s better than devouring my guts like all of my other past competitors. “Anyways, I’m sorry if I ever made such a y impression on you at first. Trust me, I’m not a .”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, I say, slightly suspicious, “But can you explain something for me?”

Sana stopped fidgeting with her socks and fixed her big-eyed gaze at me, “What?”

“Nobody told me about a new roommate.”

"Hahahaha", her laughter dwindles away by the second, "Sorry for the short notice. I just arrived here a few hours ago."

“From where?”

“Lower Manhattan.”

"Err..." I'm scratching my head, "I don't mean to sound rude, but why do you need a room when you also live in New Yo—"

“You don't remember? I moved to San Francisco before you went to LaGuardia”, she clarified, still struggling to find a matching pair of socks to sleep in, “I only moved back to New York to attend Juilliard. But since I applied last-minute, I couldn’t get a dorm room so me and this other dance major named Cheng Xiao had to split the rent for a one-bedroom apartment in the East Village.”

“Then how did you end up back in the dorms?” I interrogated.

“Our apartment was infested with bedbugs so we convinced the dormitory keeper to find us a room and so Cheng Xiao is with Xuan Yi and then the keeper placed me here! At least now your housing fees are cheaper since all three of us are splitting the pay!” Sana talked relentlessly.

God, this girl is weird.

“So how long are you—”

“What do you play again?” Sana completely ignored my inquiry and stared at my instrument case, “The clarinet? The flute?”
 
“The bassoon.”

“Oh crap, I’m sorry”, she awkwardly steps back.

"You don't even remember what instrument I play!"

"You don't look like a bassoonist", Sana stifled a laugh.

My eyes widened, hands placed firmly on my waist, "What the hell is a bassoonist supposed to look like?"

The taller girl puts a finger to her chin, "Hmmmmm.... I don't know? I'd expect you to be a little taller and maybe male."

That height comment triggered me, "Oh yeah? What if I told you that you didn't look like a horn player?"

“Minaaaaaaa! I’m back”, A few seconds after my question, I hear Chaekyung sing my name as she opens the door. She nearly spits out her coffee as her once-tired eyes land on the third girl in the room. “You’re the new roommate?”

“Woah!” Sana gasped, “You’re Chaekyung, right?”

The girl looked confused as to how Sana knew her name, “Uh-huh. Are you a musician?”

“Yeah! I play the French Horn!”

Oh hell no.

“HOLY !” Chaekyung’s wide awake at the mention of their mutual instrument, “How ing lucky am I to have a roommate who not only has a good taste in anime, but also plays the same instrument as me? Girl, we have A LOT of things to discuss!”

“We do!”

“You guys better not talk through the night because I have a music theory class at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow”, I moan, drowning my face in the comfort of my blankets.

Half of my suite is infested with horn players: one in the single bedroom, one pair in the one of the double bedrooms, and Yoon Chaekyung. To add more of a headache, there's two more upstairs on the twenty-sixth floor and three more downstairs on the twenty-fourth floor (one of whom is Yuta Nakamoto, Shuuka’s boyfriend). Whenever the practice rooms are occupied, you can hear all eight of them practice in their rooms at the same time, and mind you that none of our bedrooms are soundproof. And now there’s ten of them within proximity.

And now I can't make reeds in peace.

"So yeah", Sana continues, removing her hairclips and letting down a cascade of golden blonde locks, "Sorry if I make too much noise. You can always tap my shoulder and tell me to 'shut up' if I'm being too bothersome."

"Ehhhh... it's okay. I won't be here that often anyways", I assure, rather uneasily.

"Can I call you 'little duck'?" she gapes at me with those big brown eyes.

"Wh-What", I nearly choke. That's such a ridiculous nickname.

Sana stared incredulously at me, "You don't know? Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf? The role of the duck?”

“The duck is played by an oboe, not a bassoon”, I corrected her.

“There's also a running joke that beginning double reed players sound like dying ducks”, Chaekyung added with a teasing smile. I wanted to fist her with a cactus because I was once that dying duck.

Sana continued, "So can I call you—"

"No", I cut her off, “Now go to sleep.”

“Don’t you guys wanna go out and get to know each other a little more?” she stupidly suggests, hogging out a change of clothes from her suitcase and her Prada handbag from the closet.

I rejected her, “No, it’s too late. All the subway lines are closed and the only sight we’re going to get in after-midnight NYC is drunk people throwing up on the sidelines.”

“We can go to a nightclub! I have connections with the DJs down at Clinton and Midtown West. I’ll just study Mahler last minute and hope that everything goes well in that masterclass tomorrow”, Chaekyung is seriously wide-awake now as she leaf throughs our closet for a party dress. I bet that she’s excited just because she’s found one of her own kind. The fact that Chaekyung would prioritize Sana Minatozaki over the Berlin Philharmonic masterclass was an idea that I found completely foreign, but whatever.

“You guys can go. I have a morning class tomorrow”, I yawn, sitting down on top of my bed and wedging one calf muscle under the other.

“Boo. You’re such a party-pooper”, Chaekyung jeers, slipping on a strapless, sequined dress that could’ve been hijacked from the ‘On Sale’ section in Forever 21.

“Mina thinks that she’s too good for us”, Sana jumps on the teasing bandwagon, “Oh well, see you Myoui!”

The air in my room has a lingering silence now that I’m alone. This feeling satisfies me because 1) I love to be alone and 2) I revel in peace and quietness. Soon, all that I was aware of was the soft mattress underneath me and the warmth of the sheets around me. My eyelids were getting heavy and all I wanted to do was clear up my mind from all of the day’s mishaps. A few minutes later, I was blissfully unaware of what was going on around me. And then finally, it was just me and my dreams.

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