juilliard|hq

intro no.1: hanamaki

Juilliard was tough.

  Takahiro Hanamaki was pissed, as usual. He stomped his way down the quiet hall, the only noise being muffled lectures behind closed doors. He fucking hated this place. He hated the smell, the people, the sounds, the music. Everything about the school for prodigies made him sick to his stomach. He did not belong here.

  Well, skill wise, he did. Maki was one of the top ranked violinists in the world, and it was what he spent every last breath on thinking about, or physically doing. What could he have done to make the last note of his piece more in tune? How can he save up the money for a new bow? Why was he forced to come to this fucking graveyard instead of living his life as a normal teenage kid?

He was a musical prodigy to say the least. The way he was designed was built for one of the most powerful musicians in the world, and he made the mistake of letting everybody know that at a terribly young age. Ever since he first touched a guitar, his mother knew he was destined for greatness. So, she automatically took the guitar away and out a violin there instead, fulfilling her own dreams. Maki was too young to know the difference.

Maki was worked to the core every day for the next 15 years since then, and never once has he had the time, energy, or patience to make a friend. Moving fast through music lessons from page to page in a matter of minutes shortened his temper as a person, made him unbearable and too quick too catch up with. The only person who had ever loved him was his mother, and his violin. The thought of them together made the 19 year old want to puke.

Instead of attending another college in another part of Japan for science, which he genuinely loved, Maki was forced to record an audition to send to Julliard. He could've messed up on purpose for the video, and failed his audition, but the shadowy monster of his mother's figure watching him down from behind the lenses made him only try harder to play his best. He got in without hesitation.

  Maki loved biology. He loved the way things moved and how their version of life differed from the definition that humans gave it. He loved animals and plants and sometimes he wished he could be anything other than human in order to get a closer look at the world around him. Maki's biggest hate in the world was humans, and the fact that they took the living, breathing, beautiful earth and designed it to where he was made prisoner in a masterpiece he could not experience.

Here, he was away from his mother. But if he slacked off, the school would be willing to throw him back into her arms in Japan. He was not ready for that. But at least here, he could look at the swaying of trees in the wind without trying to count the beat of the branches moving back and forth. He was happier- for Maki, at least.

It was always him and his mom, for as long as Maki's memories could take him back. He never remembered having a dad: therefore, it never happened to bother him. Sure, he didn't have anyone to teach him to play baseball or how to properly shake hands, but that meant no one was there to tell him to act more of a man when he realized he was into boys. His mom only told him, "It doesn't matter who you like, Takahiro. Music comes first, always."

It was better than nothing.

The kids at his new school were very accepting, unlike how Maki thought they'd be. Not necessarily to him specifically, since Maki didn't talk to any of them, but in general. Walking through halls and peering in practice rooms you'll see pins and shirts with equality slogans and flags hanging outside dorm rooms. Pride month especially, with parades through the hallways and the campus. That was one part of the school that didn't make it so rough for Maki, besides today.

He continued to storm through the walkways, running off his anger if almost going off on his roommate for homophobic comments he made when he saw Maki getting ready for the annual campus parade. It was June 1st, and it was the day where at 3pm, the whole school marched through the hallway and stood out on the campus like a real parade, watching dancers bounce through the streets and groups of kids on utility carts found in storage rooms, belting their little gay hearts out on whatever instrument they played. This was mostly a tradition to brass intruments and guitarists, sometimes singers, too. It was the only thought getting Maki through today as he repeated numerous insults that he could've said to his roommate in his head, insults that were held behind his tongue. Maki was rude and impatient and a dick, but he knew when to start a fight and when not to. Today meant Not.