Prologue

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Music is love,

Love is music

Music is life,

I love my life

Thank you and good night XD

-A.J. McLean

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Tuning:

(Verb)

To adjust and instrument to the standard pitch

Tuning is the first thing an orchestra does-

Changing things for the sake of music

Liana's POV

*insert orchestra tuning sound effect here*

It was at the beginning of sixth grade that I picked up the trumpet.

My middle school was littered with windows and the August sun filtered into the room buzzing with the excited squeals of girls and boys.

That day, we had all entered the music room, expecting it to be another mundane, boring day. But, to our surprise, scattered around the room were dozens of long, rectangular tables, each one with two or more glass cases. On the inside of each case was, you guessed it, an instrument.

For everyone else, the room probably did a complete 180- from musty band room with white strips of paint peeling off of the crudely designed walls, to a winter wonderland, except with instruments.

I, for one, wasn't interested at all in what band had to offer for me.

Maybe my disinterest was because of my inability to do anything well before.

Drawing? I had taken an oil painting class for one year before quitting. I remember everything vibrantly. I would be perched on my artist stool as the teachers paced around, nodding in approval at everyone's work but... mine.

"Maybe she should consider a different hobby," I heard the teachers murmur to each other one day.

I quit that day.

Photography? Tried that as well. Needless to say, my hand was so shaky that every picture looked so blurry that you couldn't decipher it.

I quit before anybody could point it out.

I sighed, replaying my past failures. Who was I kidding? This was going to end in disaster. Heck, I was only there because my best friend, Sabrina, was there. She, unlike me, was scurrying around, dragging me away from the piano bench. The only thing that kept her from snatching the instrument and playing it herself was the formidable glass case separating the students and the instruments.

"Look at that! Isn't it cool? I want to play it!" She would say, grey eyes glinting in excitement as she admired the graceful curves of the French Horn, or the seemingly humongous proportions of the tuba.

I merely glanced over the instruments, nodding at the silvery flute, barely giving the clarinet and oboe a look... but then...

Maybe it was the way the light hit the instrument... maybe it was the heavenly glow it seemed to have, but something clicked. I basically floated over to the instrument... something about it--

I traced my finger along the side of the glass case. On the side was a label with the word "trumpet" scrawled on it in sharpie. Suddenly, I was interested.

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