Töte Mich

#1

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" yelled Mr. Haner from his seat, 9 rows back in the auditorium. My hands fell from their strategic positions on my cello. "Christoph" he sighed loudly as he threw up his hands. "We've been over this... We both know you can play the cello, but where's your expression? Where's your dynamics? Where's your heart?".

I feverishly nodded hearing this familiar spiel a thousand times, when I didn't place enough emphasis on the staccato in measure 17 or the crescendo wasn't grand enough in measure 42 he would start to question my loyalty to his musical teachings.

I sighed heavily "Yes, Mr. Haner" my heart sinking slightly as he grimaced in my direction. "This is Breval! He is loud and he is full of feeling and power! You need to convey it Christoph. Dynamics and expressions are what this piece is all about!".

"I'm sorry" I said just barely loud enough that he could hear. "Don't apologize! Play it right! This one of his grandest pieces! It's his Sonata in C major! The opening chords are barely there, I need more emphasis!" he was shaking his head in disgust as he started walking down the aisle to sit in the chair directly in front of me; adding even more anxiety to my disheveled mind.

I had no sheet music. I had no back up pianist. Just me and the subdivision in my head, along with Mr. Haner' s screaming.

"You are in college. You've been in college for half a year now. You are becoming a professional cellist. This is the big leagues, you need to understand that no one is going to baby you anymore". I wanted to spit on him for the pure accusation.

His eyebrows lifted at my sullen expression. "He had greater expectations for his music Christoph! Play it with feeling! Again!" he commanded.

I placed my fingers upon the strings and waited for my own mental cue. My bow hold shook and my strings made a slight crunching sound when I added more arm weight upon my bow hold.

As I played the first chord my cello uttered a delightfully loud chord and my heart quickened as I delicately moved my fingers across the fingerboard to make another equally loud and in-tune sounding chord.

Mr. Haner's face was no longer grimacing at me but also did not radiate approval. As my fingers nimbly moved across the fingerboard his face remained at a level of stoic indifference. I tried my best to make it "expressive and loud" but by the ending note his expression showed he was still largely displeased.

He cleared his throat before he spoke "Although that run of it was much better than the last few, you're just not feeling it. Yes, you're making this instrument play the notes the composer arranged it to play; but you're not listening to what he's trying to convey. Its almost like you're breathing but you're not living. This cello should be your life-line. Everything you are should be this cello. Find your heart and then we'll try again."

I nodded, exhausted. He told me I could pack up and he would see me again next Friday for our weekly lesson. I followed his instructions and basically yelled with glee, Mr. Haner's lesson was always my last class on Friday and tonight I was going to hang out at a party with some friends and have a great send-off to the weekend.

Well by friends it was more like "the man I can't stop drooling over and all his friends". I had fell for Richard the minute I laid eyes on him in music theory.

As I listened to the professor ramble about different correlations to key signatures, he walked in. He was absolutely stunning. Everything about him was rutted in complete and utter contrast. Somehow it all meshed together perfectly.

Short black hair, exquisite blue eyes, porcelain white skin, clear complexion,  and a dazzling smile. And if that wasn't enough his toned chest, long legs and superb ass were enough to put me in the hospital. I tried my best not to stare but his eyes flicked to mine and his smile grew even wider; and I feel like right then and there he knew.

I didn't do much about my crush on him, I just kinda sat on the back burner and watched how he went around exploring his life, seeing what classes we did and didn't have together. Until we got paired together to do a project on a famous composer for Music Theory.

As the project progressed so did my crush on him. I think he could sense it, I mean it wasn't hard as I'd always make an ass of myself the second his eyes met mine.  Our presentation went off without a hitch and so did our budding friendship.

He introduced me to his group of friends named Oliver, Flake, Paul and Till. And each one of them had a personality completely separate and opposite from each other. But somehow they made their group dynamic work.

Oliver was extremely tall and he was about as thin as a telephone pole. His personality was pretty quiet but under the shy exterior I could tell he was harboring a heart of gold. He was photography major and he minored in business. And his friend Flake was right there behind him, he was almost as tall and just as skinny. He was a linguistic major and he was minoring in music.

Paul was an absolute midget compared to all of them, even Richard had a couple inches on him. But he had an insane amount energy and he was just a great dude to have around. He was surprisingly a business major, and was only minoring in music. There wasn't much to talk about when it came to Till other than he was tall, stoic and brooding, and according to Richard he was a film and music major.

And Richard, oh Richard, the literal definition of perfect, was just that. Perfect. He was unsurprisingly a drama and music major.

I was pretty much a massive loner up until that point so it was nice to have some new smiling faces around me. Each one of them slowly grew onto me and I loved the idea of being friends with them more and more everyday. I cherished the fact I, at least had one class with all of them at some point during the week.

I had Photography with Ollie, Business Law with Paul, Calculus with Till, Physics with Flake and of course Music Theory with Richard. In addition I had World History and a handful of free time in which I played my cello.

I quickly headed back to my dorm and waited for the text from Richard about where and when the party would be. I hoped it'd be relatively soon as I was excited to see all of my friends and especially Richard.

I set my cello down in the corner of my crowded single dorm room and I heard my phone buzz. And my heart skipped a beat.

I had a text from Richard. "The party starts at eight. It's at West Hall, room 416, bring alcohol, weed or money. No free-loading :)" I quickly sent him an excited response and I looked at the clock. It's 4:39. 'What was I gonna do for 3 and a half hours?'

I'd figure it out. I just couldn't wait for eight o'clock.