Crescendo, Romance!

Chapter 1

Help me!

-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-🎺-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-

Introduction:

(Noun)

The opening passage of a piece of music

The introduction is the first part a musician plays-

To set things into motion

Liana's POV

"You're half a beat early, you stupid," I hiss to the guy next to me when our band instructor, Mr. Jamison had stopped us for what seemed like the 18th time today.

The guy next to me, of course, is fellow first trumpet player, (Hayden).

Ever since I started trumpet in sixth grade, I've been showered with endless praise.

"You're so talented!"

"You're such a mature musician!"

"What beautiful tone quality! Wow! Excellent embouchure!"

The only line of praise that I haven't heard before?

"You're the best trumpet player we have!"

Why? Well, you probably guessed why- because of (Hayden). Every line of praise applied to me could also be applied to Hayden.From regular band to honor bands, (Hayden) was always there, competing with me. Often times it was a gamble to see who would be second chair and who would be first chair, and whichever one of us was first chair would gloat endlessly to the other. Until, of course, the other one eventually got to be first chair.

This month the gamble is in Hayden's favor- but not for long if he can't come in at the right time! I shoot him a glare. He ignores me, scratching his black hair as his dark eyes narrow in concentration.

Hopefully he realizes how wrong he is.

"Trumpets!" Our band instructor gestures to the trumpet section, who are sitting in the far right. "Play measure 62 and 63 for me, please?"

Hayden and I exchange electric looks before I avert my eyes to the rhythm on the page.

Tri-pa-let, tri-pa-let, quarter... eigth. Finally, after I've reasserted to myself that I'm right, I bring my horn to my lips, feeling the familiar brush of metal. Next to me, Hayden brings his horn up too.

3, 2, 1...

Our conductor counts us off and--

A stream of bright, lively notes clusters in the air, and a perfect melody forms, until-

Damn! He's coming in half a beat early again! The incompatible rhythms clash, creating a wince-worthy trainwreck of noise.

The conductor sweeps his hand, stopping us. The other trumpet players glance at each other, thoroughly confused.

"You two," The conductor points at us as we exchange heated glares. "Play that measure for me again?"

"Great, now he called us out," Hayden grumbles, pushing down the keys of his horn. "Jeez, we're in 10th grade already. I would think that you would know how to count."

"Well maybe if you would come in on time instead of saying I don't know how to count, this wouldn't be happening," I retort, shooting him a scorching glare before bringing the instrument to my mouth.

Everyone around us stares as the conductor counts us off for another round. Drawing in a breath, I envelop myself in the rhythm on the page.

Unfortunately, it seems Hayden still hasn't learned his mistake, as the same sad crumble of notes fills the air again.