It’s gym time and, to Chaeyoung’s chagrin, it’s dodgeball day.

 

Here goes nothing.

 

The game starts, vicious and unrelenting with both teams hashing it out like it’s their last day on earth, and Chaeyoung can only cower in the corner as she prays to every entity she knows to keep her glasses intact.

 

Tzuyu has wisely stepped up front once the game started and is gently taken out by one of the confused attackers from the other team. She doesn’t hesitate to go sit down, and Chaeyoung silently curses her for ditching her so early on in the game. She’s too timid to go up and get ousted herself though, so she can only crouch in her corner and pray this will all be over soon.

 

Fortunately her prayers work- but that doesn’t mean her ousting is any less humiliating. She shuffles as quickly as she can with her head low as players of the opposing team jeer her loss. It’s another normal day for Son Chaeyoung, and she sits next to Tzuyu when it’s all over.

 

Tzuyu pats her back. “Look alive Chaeng. At least it’s over for the week.”

 

She’s no help.

 

---

 

Band finally rolls around and the conductor hasn’t arrived yet. Jihyo, being the diligent french hornist she is, carefully applies valve oil to her slides and valves. Jeongyeon is loitering around next to her with her trombone, swinging it about precariously as she waits to use Jihyo’s oil (because who brings their own supplies these days that’s called being prepared for class and Jeongyeon sure as hell ain’t about that life.)

 

Dahyun is actually busy tuning her section because their poor embouchures always lead to someone playing waaay too flat, even on the third trumpet part that has the most low notes. Sana has her flute out, but she’s not playing- no, she’s polishing. She wipes down the mouthpiece, then the body in painstakingly precise motions until the instrument is tall and gleaming with the force of a thousand suns. Sana, after the longest time, is finally satisfied with her polishing session and beams just as brightly at the flute. What’s the point in playing if the thing isn’t pretty, she reasons?

 

Tzuyu is sitting in her seat, back ramrod straight as she assesses the piece before her with the eyes of a hawk. She moves her mouthpiece to the right just a touch so her finger alignment is a smidge better before she even attempts to play a warmup scale. Her phone and all its cartoon spam is tucked away in her backpack. She is nothing but determined, focused only on the notes before her.

 

Nayeon has already dozed off in the back, hugging her euphonium like a teddy bear. 

 

Chaeyoung is sitting hunched in her seat as she delicately takes out one of her double-reeds from its case and places it between her lips. She proceeds to carefully put the pieces of her instrument together, almost as precise as Tzuyu in the way she aligns the keys. There are the quiet sounds of the rest of the kids practicing their runs and playing through some songs (save for the occasional blasts from the trumpet section) and it’s pretty peaceful, especially for a band class.

 

Until Momo bursts in and makes a beeline for the snare drum and her sectionmates are close behind, taking the crash cymbals and the mounted bass drum respectively. That’s when the headache starts, and the rest of the band decides to have an exponential increase in volume because really, what fun is band if you can’t even hear yourself play?

 

The noise does nothing to rouse Nayeon from her slumber, but Jeongyeon has finally had enough of waiting for Jihyo to finish her meticulous oiling process. She snatches the bottle away and makes a break for it as Jihyo sits, dumbfounded for a moment, before the other girl leaps up and charges after the perpetrator. Dahyun has also conveniently finished tuning the trumpet section and starts blasting some sort of march on her instrument, to Mina’s chagrin. Momo matches her snare drum to Dahyun’s march, which is almost definitely some sort of Sousa rendition, and the rest of the percussionists are quick to join them. Tzuyu is undeterred by all the noise, is stubbornly focusing on her music- until Jeongyeon accidentally runs into her stand and topples the whole thing over, Jihyo hot on her heels. Tzuyu is left to stare down at the trombone-french horn duo grappling over a 2.5 oz bottle of valve oil as her music is scattered astrew. Someone in the saxophone section suddenly starts blasting ‘Careless Whisper’ and Mina’s competitive side lights up, (as she’s never to be outdone,) and soon there’s a volume competition in what is easily the fourth-loudest section in the entire band that results in ear-shattering squeaks and poor tone. What could’ve been a lovely song quickly becomes one of the most hated songs in the school- it’s just way overplayed.

 

Sana has decided early on that the whole ‘volume competition’ thing is a lost cause for her as a flute player so she contents herself with sitting in her seat and staring blankly across the room at a displeased Tzuyu, who still has to watch Jeongyeon and Jihyo fight on the ground as they trample her sheet music. The second-chair flute, an arrogant, try-hard, hardcore senior as well, glowers at Sana by himself- because why does she get to be first-chair when all she does is sit there and polish her goddam flute? His hatred for her is probably recognized by everyone in the band, except by Sana herself (and Momo because let’s be real, when does Momo ever know anything?). It’s almost comical, when Sana trumps him at every music competition they ever participate in, and everyone knows that this kid would be on top if it weren’t for a certain Minatozaki Sana. But Sana could care less, so no one bothers to tell her.

 

The conductor finally walks in but his presence does nothing to deter the rowdiness of the room. “Alright guys, settle down!”

 

Nothing. They don’t even hear him. Except for Sana, but his command doesn’t quite register in her mind and she’s not doing much anyway (unless staring at Tzuyu counts as much). Jihyo is still beating Jeongyeon into the ground, Momo is still playing along to Dahyun’s cover of Semper Fidelis, Mina is blasting Careless Whisper along with five other saxophone players, and Nayeon is sleeping serenely in the back. She even begins to snore.

 

The conductor finally goes over to stop Jihyo from killing Jeongyeon and the trombone player reluctantly returns the valve oil before shuffling to her spot in the back, a few chairs down from Nayeon. Tzuyu finally is able to pick up her stand and collect the fallen music sheets, settling in her spot at the front. Dahyun finally shuts up and Momo does too, and Mina sits down slouched in her seat with her sax hanging loosely around her neck.

 

The conductor clears his throat. “Thank you. And would someone wake Miss. Im, please?”

 

Jeongyeon reaches over with her trombone and taps the snoring girl on her exposed double chin. Nayeon finally stirs and blinks, shifting her vice grip around her instrument and straightening up.

 

“Glad you’ve joined us Miss. Im. Now, today we’re going to start with a B flat concert scale, then a C, then a F. If you don’t know your starting notes, ask someone near you. Ready?”

 

Sana’s hand immediately goes up. “I don’t know my starting note!”

 

“Sana, your instrument is concert pitch.”

 

“Oh. You’re right!”

 

The flutist puts her hand down and gazes wonderingly at her flute. The boy next to her rolls his eyes from behind his pretentious glasses and holds his flute up to his lips.

 

Sana slouches over and leans her arm on said boy’s chair, receiving a vicious side glare but she doesn’t seem to notice. The scales start, and she gets away with it until the F major. The conductor lowers his baton to glare at her threateningly.

 

“Minatozaki!”

 

“Sorry, sorry!” Sana holds up her hands in surrender before adjusting her posture and actually attempting to play the scales.

 

Momo snickers from her snare drum all the way in the back. She receives a glare as well. Sana waves to the girl flirtatiously before returning her attention back to the grumpy old man at hand.

 

They proceed with their scales and all is quiet for a fleeting, beautiful moment, and then they start their first piece- it’s Mars by Gustav Holst, and it’s pretty new to them. It’s a unique piece though, that’s for sure, and it’s got a lot of interesting rhythms to it.

 

The conductor is explaining all the switches in time signatures and Dahyun is absolutely bored. She is able to entertain herself by watching the clouds float by for a bit, but that isn’t enough to keep her attention for long.

 

So when it’s finally time to play, she blasts those notes like never before and it sounds awful.

 

“Kim Dahyun! Stop it!”

 

“It wasn’t me!”

 

“Yoo Jeongyeon! Stop it!”

 

The bewildered trombonist is appalled. “Did that sound like a trombone to you?!”

 

“Are you talking back to me?!”

 

“I didn’t even do anything wrong- YOU’RE the one yelling at me! I don’t even play this part!”

 

“That’s it! Outside, now! And bring your trombone with you. Might as well get some practice there if you’re not going to be productive here!”

 

Jeongyeon throws her hands up in the air and trudges out in the hall. Nayeon doesn’t forget to stick out her foot and send the other girl reeling on her way out.

 

The injustice of it all.

 

Tzuyu finally looks up from her music and sees nothing other than the bright eyes of Minatozaki Sana staring openly (and blankly) at her. The flute player is surprised for a moment, then smiles brightly and waves at the younger girl who only stares back at her. Tzuyu may be younger than Sana, but given Sana’s notorious reputation, it’s no wonder than Tzuyu thinks Sana is an idiot. A total idiot.

 

Sana, of course, is oblivious to all this because she is indeed an idiot and only continues to stare at Tzuyu until the younger girl is officially creeped out and solidifies Sana’s status as a weirdo in Tzuyu’s young mind. Tzuyu tries to ignore her and focus on the music- they’ve started playing the beginning bars of Mars, downtempo, but she’s already lost count of how many measures have passed. The song is kind of dark and ominous, something Tzuyu would normally enjoy playing, but the flutes are resting in these opening bars as well so Sana continues to stare and Tzuyu feels herself starting to sweat.

 

The conductor stops them to review counting in 5/4 and it’s something basic that most of them already know (save for a select few trumpet players plus Sana) so most of them take the time to zone out and be unproductive. The rest of class is surprisingly quiet, and it’s actually not the worst class in the world. They somehow manage to get through the first section sight-reading, and sure there’s a lot to practice, but it’s not bad for a group of high schoolers and the conductor is beyond pleased. He lets them go a few minutes earlier than usual and they all scramble to put their instruments away in their band lockers before the bell rings and the band hallway is flooded with people.

 

The conductor stops Sana on her way out. “Minatozaki, a minute please.”

 

The girl stops mid-rise. “Yes? What is it?”

 

“I wanted to ask you about the flute-clarinet part in Ode to Joy. Have you looked at it?”

 

Sana blinked. “Yes.”

 

“...”

 

“...”

 

“Well?”

 

“Well, what?”

 

The conductor sweatdrops. “Do you think you can play it?”

 

Sana nods. “It’ll take me a little practice, but I’ll definitely get it down.” She smiles brightly, and it’s moments like these when the conductor is reminded why Sana is the first chair.

 

However, they aren’t alone. The boy who sits next to Sana has been waiting- waiting, and watching- for an opportunity like this. He speaks up, “Sir, with all due respect, I would like to suggest the possibility of auditions for the part.”

 

Sana turns and blinks at him. The conductor doesn’t know what to say.

 

He continues. “I think there are many other players who are interested in the first-chair parts who will not get the opportunity to ever play them. Actually, I think there are many players in our section who would be interested in becoming the permanent first-chair flutists.”

 

The conductor is definitely taken aback- it’s very rare that someone challenges for the first part solos. Usually the upperclassmen play the first parts, and the first chair plays any solos in those parts, and the underclassmen divide the second and occasional third parts. Sure there’s always a little envy and resentment from the other upperclassmen to the first-chair, but they usually keep it to themselves or they don’t care enough to say anything. The underclassmen are usually pretty relaxed when it comes to parts since they know they’ll have a chance to fight for the first chair in years to come. It’s probably a first in this band for anyone to challenge for first-chair, but the boy is not backing down.

 

The conductor is a little flustered, and Sana says nothing as she continues to stare at the challenger to her seat. The conductor looks back and forth between the two, at the boy’s unrelenting stature to the slowly hardening eyes of his current first chair.

 

“Well- well, I suppose there can be an audition of sorts for the chair if you truly think there are others who would like an opportunity at the seat.”

 

The boy grins triumphantly, but to his surprise, Sana merely smirks in return. The conductor clears his throat awkwardly and rubs his hands together. “Tell everyone who is interested that they can prepare a solo to play for me in two weeks. I suppose you all can sacrifice a lunch period if you really want to go through with this, yes?”

 

“Of course sir. And I trust this will be a private endeavor?” The boy smiled fakely, politely at the conductor.

 

“Nah.”

 

Both heads turned to Sana, who suddenly didn’t look all that ditzy anymore.

 

“Make it public. Anyone who wants to come can come. After all, we’ll show only the best, right conductor?”

 

He visibly balked for a minute, and the boy blanched. Sana side-eyed him with a devilish smirk. “I-I suppose that wouldn’t hurt. I’ll see you all at the audition then. Don’t forget.”

 

Sana smiled prettily at her competitor, her heels, and left. 

 

What a .

 

---

 

Sana isn’t stupid.

 

Well, in certain sense at least.

 

She’s well aware of the hatred the second-chair flutist has for her. She’d hoped at one point that they could get along, like Momo and the percussion section, but her hopes were short-lived as the boy made it clear from the day Sana took the first-chair that they would be adversaries for the rest of high school. She took little note of the competition he was pushing between them though- she had her chair and she liked to get along with everyone, and even though she seemed like she didn’t know all too much about music, she could care less that this made him even more spiteful towards her. Until today, when he actually confronted her about this whole thing.

 

Sana was nothing but confident when she coolly accepted the challenge to her seat, obviously shaking the boy some and impressing the conductor, but as she swiveled into the girls’ bathroom, she dropped her bag with a thud and groaned, sinking down to the ground.

 

What have I done.

 

She has no idea what she was gonna play, and she knew- this boy meant business; he wouldn’t be easy to top. None of the others would. And now this would be a public event for the entire student body and administration to attend.

 

Great.

 

She sighs, splashes some water on her face, and leans on the sink despairingly. “I’m an idiot.” She groans aloud to herself, then stops short.

 

Son Chaeyoung had stepped out of the stall furthest from the door just in time to hear her statement and witness the usually bubbly Minatozaki Sana’s uncharacteristic breakdown. Their eyes met through the mirror and Chaeyoung froze- she looked like a deer in headlights, like she’d seen something she shouldn’t have seen.

 

“S-Sorry!” Chaeyoung squeaks in the smallest voice Sana has ever heard from an underclassman, making an effort to scurry away without her bag falling from her small frame. Sana blinks; she hadn't meant to scare the girl, and she reaches out to grab the girl with lightning reflexes.

 

Chaeyoung visibly pales at the contact and makes a last-ditch attempt to leave, but Sana holds her back. “Relax, will you? I didn’t mean to scare you.” She says, attempting to replace her uncharacteristically intense look with a smile.

 

Chaeyoung cowers just a little, and Sana feels something in her heart melt a little at the emotive large eyes that stared up at her from behind round, wire-rimmed glasses. Chaeyoung reminds her of someone, someone she treasures dearly, and she makes a mental note to be a little softer around this one. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.

 

Chaeyoung nods. “I’m okay. I’m sorry for earlier.”

 

“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault for being in the bathroom. But, why do you look so scared?”

 

Chaeyoung looks down at her hands, which were covered by the sleeves of her sweater. “These kind of encounters usually don’t end too well for me. I try to go come when there are less people, I didn’t think anyone would be here at this time.” She mumbles, and Sana softens.

 

“Well, I’m usually not here at this time either. I just needed to cool off a little.” 

 

Chaeyoung blinks up at her. “Are you alright?”

 

Three simple words that hold so much weight when coming from the smaller girl. Sana shrugs airily and leans back on the sink. “Well I guess I could be better. You wouldn’t happen to be friends with the second-chair flutist would you?”

 

“I don’t think he has many friends. But I’m not one to talk.”

 

“He wants my chair and there’s an open audition in two weeks for it.”

 

Chaeyoung is surprised. She knows just as well as Sana does about how uncommon and forward that is. “Oh. And you agreed to it?”

 

“Of course! I have my pride too, you know?”

 

“So what’s the problem?”

 

Sana throws her hands up despairingly. “I have no idea what I’m gonna play! And he’s good, and everyone else is good, and I want my chair to be mine because I earned it not because I was too afraid to some challenge from some for it!”

 

She’s pretty much shouting now, venting her inner fears and frustrations to an underclassman she doesn't even know, and Chaeyoung just listens to her and watches her pace. The younger girl is calm and quiet, watching Sana get more and more worked up (dramatism is in her nature, therefore it’s only natural for her to cause a mini scene in front of her junior) until the door opens and Tzuyu storms in.

 

“What’s going on here?” The tallest says coldly, immediately stepping protectively in front of Chaeyoung. Sana blinks and stops mid-rant, confused to the hostile treatment. 

 

Chaeyoung peeks her head out from behind Tzuyu and tries tapping the taller girl on the shoulder. “Tzuyu we-”

 

“Was she messing with you?”

 

Sana is startled by the glare Tzuyu sends her way. “We were just-”

 

“Stay away from Chaeyoung. Don’t mess with her again.” Tzuyu speaks with ice in every word before taking Chaeyoung and dragging her out of the bathroom. Sana is left alone, confused and upset, and she groans.

 

Great. First the overly-aggressive weirdo who sits next to her in band challenges her chair, and now the girl of her affections hates her.

 

Just great.

 

---

 

Chaeyoung goes home that night to do her homework, but she’s distracted.

 

“What was that for?” She asks Tzuyu as the Taiwanese girl angrily drags her from the bathroom back to class.

 

“What? You didn’t come back to class so I was wondering where you went. Tell me if she ever says anything to you again.”

 

Chaeyoung scratches her head. “She wasn’t- we were just- she didn’t do anything to me. We were just talking.”

 

Tzuyu looks at her, unconvinced, and Chaeyoung reads the look on her face perfectly ‘Why would she talk to you.’

 

Chaeyoung groans. “Oh come on. I’m not that unpleasant to be around.”

 

Tzuyu arches an eyebrow and Chaeyoung smacks her indignantly, eliciting a small laugh from her for the first time since lunch. “I’m kidding. But seriously, Sana sunbaenim is weird. I’d stay away from her if I were you.”

 

Chaeyoung casts a last glance over her shoulder at Sana who is too far to hear them and has just exited the washroom. The older girl catches her eye and just watches them walk back to class (French, Chaeyoung’s favorite) and Tzuyu keeps her eyes ahead, stoic and alert as always.

 

Chaeyoung finds a piece of paper in her locker after school. ‘I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you or your friend. Let me make it up to you ~Sana’

 

There was a string of numbers at the bottom, which Chaeyoung could only assume to be a phone number. Tzuyu glanced over at her curiously. “What’s taking you?” She asks, leaning over to glance into the locker.

 

Chaeyoung crushes the note in her hand. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

 

She’s left stealing sparse glances at the paper, wondering if she should call the older girl. Sana may be ditzy, but she seemed genuine to Chaeyoung earlier and Chaeyoung couldn’t help her curiosity despite Tzuyu’s warning. She couldn’t blame Tzuyu- Chaeyoung is an easy target and Tzuyu isn’t afraid of anyone, so Tzuyu has taken it upon herself to stick up for Chaeyoung when necessary. Sana seemed a bit stressed earlier though, and Chaeyoung is really tempted to text her for a brief moment, but the piles of unfinished homework and study materials on her desk are more pressing than anything she can think of at the moment.

 

Hm. Maybe tomorrow.

 

---

 

Tzuyu heads to the music store that night to purchase new reeds. She plays a lot and she’s running out. Her parents, both successful business people, are more than happy to fund her musical endeavors so reed money isn’t a problem for Tzuyu; she’s even told by her father to get maintenance on the instrument, or to just buy a new, nicer one.

 

Tzuyu isn’t one to throw money around though, and she’s quite happy with her current clarinet, so she heads straight to the large reed section of the music store and stares at the extensive selection.

 

The music store is usually pretty quiet, and the reed section is usually quieter. Most people like to ask for their reeds up front, without having to go through the hassle of going through the large reed section themselves to find their products. Tzuyu enjoys it though- she likes the serenity of it all, and she likes looking at all the different options. Different reeds play differently, Tzuyu knows that well, and she’s much more sensitive than other reed players her age to how different reeds play with her instrument and affect her sound. Most of the people who frequent this store are high schoolers who aren’t sensitive to these knicks, and tend to just purchase whatever’s cheapest. Reeds aren’t cheap to begin with, even the less expensive ones.

 

She’s not alone today though.

 

As she turns the corner to the large reed library, she almost bumps into someone. “Wow. Didn’t see you there, sorry bout that.”

 

Tzuyu looks up to see a familiar face. It’s none other than Myoui Mina, one of the most popular girls in school.

 

“Oh. Hello Mina sunbaenim.” She bows politely to her senior, but Mina stops her.

 

“Just call me unnie. We’re in the same band class.” She speaks comfortably with a casual, cool air, and Tzuyu understands why everyone admires her so much.

 

“What brings you here?”

 

 Mina gestures to the wall of reeds before them and smiles. “Reeds. Can’t you tell?”

 

Tzuyu blinks. “You can just go up front and ask them to ring up a box for you.”

 

“I know. But I bought a new kind last time I came here and it plays like butter, so I thought I’d get another one.” Mina responds simply, floating to the saxophone section and gazing up at the various boxes.

 

Tzuyu tilts her head curiously. “Why not stick to Hemke or something?”

 

Mina shrugs. “They’re nice but I’ve got a Sigurd Rascher mouthpiece, and I want a reed that sounds nicer with a classical setup.”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Tzuyu is genuinely curious now, as she herself also has a classical setup on her clarinet. She’s gone through a variety of reeds, but she hasn’t found one she totally loves yet, especially for the unique brand of classical she likes to play.

 

“Légère. Their classical series is pretty sweet for people who play classical music, if you’re willing to drop that money. I’ve also got a couple of Hemkes on hand, for lighter genres.”

 

Mina plucks a box from the fray and holds it up for Tzuyu to see. It’s a brand of synthetic reed that Tzuyu hasn’t seen before and it’s no wonder- she glances at the spot that Mina plucked it from and only sees two more next to it. It’s certainly not a common brand, especially for young players, and Tzuyu’s interest is instantly piqued.

 

“Do they come for clarinets too?”

 

“Of course. Check higher though, no one really buys them around here.”

 

Sure enough, there are a couple boxes higher up in the clarinet section and Tzuyu considers the strength carefully before taking one and examining it. “Looks interesting.”

 

Mina chuckles. “Wait till you play it. It’ll blow you away.” She smiles and waves as she goes to check out.

 

Tzuyu tries it out later that night and it’s as amazing as Mina said it would be. She spends three hours with her clarinet that she should be spending on schoolwork.

 

 

---

 

Hemke and Légère are both amazing brands of reeds and I would strongly recommend both.