There’s something about her, the way she carries around her instrument.

It’s an everyday thing, something fleeting and almost fairytale like that it’s nothing more than just a dream, nothing more than just a few seconds. The way she holds it to her figure and smiles down at it makes him smile.

He plays the violin, too, but not particularly wonderful at it. Taemin sits behind her in orchestra class, an  elective which he thinks is entirely a waste of time when the teacher talks for a majority of the time about other people and how he went to Julliard in the States and the different teachers he encountered and blah blah blah…

Even so, it’s worth the class just watching and hearing her play where it takes her just minutes to perfect the notes and hours for him to do the same, but that’s the difference between school-trained and privately-taught, to which his teacher says, “Private lessons are a privilege.”

And maybe they are.

He admires the way she cleans the rosin off the strings everyday, covering it lightly and making sure nothing is stuck in between the tucks of the zippers and zipping it up before slinging it onto her shoulder with care and managing to gracefully scramble to her next class on the other side of campus.

They’ve never had an official and decent conversation before, just giving small smiles to each other and he looks back over the crowd of girls hovering around him to catch a glimpse of her figure slinking in the opposite direction of the crowd. He loves that she’s the odd fish, the one going up while everybody goes down.

There are times where she’s in the orchestra room alone and he stands right next to the door and listens to her converse with her violin and apologizing to it whenever plucking a string too hard or making the peg crack.

It’s her only friend, he realizes, and he makes it his mission to be her friend,too, maybe something more.

Maybe her companion through the more complex dimensions of life.