I Knew He Liked Me All the Time (Caitlin)

I was finally well enough to join practice with the other Impulsive Brass Band members. Since I'm a little short of breath, my solo didn't turn out as well as I had hoped. The others, however, said it was the best I had ever played. If that was truly the case, then I am a terrible hornist. I continued playing in the background as the mediator between harmony and bass line. Musical tunes are totally different from what most concert musicians are used to playing. For example, I Hope I Get It is not all that technically demanding in and of itself, but failing to convey the emotions makes the tune meaningless. This is why we listened to the song again and again, so we could deliver the best performance possible, like an actor auditioning for a play.

As professional musician, we the sentiments in the song with the characters. I remember walking into auditions a nervous little thing with my horn case in hand. I remembered Landon telling me "Why do you have to walk so wide?" If you had told me at that moment that he would have been one of my closest friends, I would have scoffed at the notion. I noted the man sitting next to me. He praised my skill. It's funny how things end up how you least expect them to. In high school, Steve told me that I would never be able to play horn. I told him that I could never respect or admire him. The ring on my finger told me that both of us ended up wrong.
         "All right, good." Our conductor praised us. "But good can't get in the way of great. From the top. A five-six-seven-eight!" Our percussionists came to the front to do the choreography. It's kind of odd to address three guys as the "first group of girls". We like making the audience laugh, though. It's an Impulsive Brass Band thing, kind of like how the stoic faces of the violins are a Symphony Orchestra thing. "I need Mark Navoa, Luke Cabot, Anthony Zhao and Victor Messina to come with me for Dance Ten, Looks Three auditions. Landon LaCoste, Sawyer Patton, and Hiroki Sato, go meet the guy over there for I Can Do That. The rest of you, break into sectionals." I went with the other French horns: Tadashi Inomoto and Julian Anderson. Tadashi led us in our little flourishes. I played my solo.
        "That was good, but we need more from you." I kept pushing the air through. "More." I pushed everything out. "MORE." Tadashi was impatient.
        "That's all I have for now." I coughed, lowering my horn. Do I take my inhaler and risk more seizures? Probably not. It'll go away in time.
        "That will do for now." Tadashi continued with our sectional with the other songs.

We met as a group. Tim caught me in an awkward moment when I accidentally called myself a carrot. Here I am, trying to look competent, and I go and call myself a carrot. Kaito Hiyashida will start with me in a week. It's been a while since I played euphonium, but I can manage. The case is very heavy, though. As in Carmen's case, ten different music teachers (I counted as his mother listed them off.) flat out refused to teach him because of his disabilities. Naturally, she was bewildered and frustrated. Some of them said they "lacked certification in teaching students with autism and/or apraxia". Really? I had a student with similar disabilities in one of my classes--in my first year as a teacher. I didn't accommodate the student out of some sort of heroic drive or burst of altruism despite what other people might think. I just did it because that student wanted to learn. That is the basic task of every teacher: to teach those who want to learn and get those who do not to want to learn.

Steve's solo came out clear and authentic. He sang through his instrument, full of emotion as always. Yesterday, he came home in tears trying to suppress them. It hurts seeing him like that, especially because it contrasts with his confident, optimistic nature. I suppose that, if people look at you and all they see is a hero, that interferes with their seeing more. Most people have been, not only a hero, but a victim, a villain, a sidekick, and an extra in the course of a lifetime. The more people I meet and the longer I have to get to know them, the more of that I see. The lyrics of Paul's solo seem to fit Steve in a way that the others just cannot emulate. What does he want from me? What should I try to be? Those are questions he asks on a regular basis. Monsters in sight? He's a warrior. Confused students? He's a teacher. I feel terrible about myself? He's a lover. There are many roles he has to play, so it's no wonder that he worries about what people expect from him.

We went back to my solo. I pushed as much air as I could through my horn, determined to make myself heard. I really needed this job. The others rejoined us gradually. Luke Cabot and Hiroki Sato joined us. They looked hopeful and optimistic, still. I mean, there were more solos in Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love. We had Nothing too. Anthony Zhao, Victor Messina, and Sawyer Patton followed afterwards. They looked defeated. After we finished, I heard Mark Navoa and Landon LaCoste coming into the room high-fiving and beaming with the brightest smiles I have seen.
        "You got it?"
        "I knew he liked me all the time!" With his newly-fixed horn and trumpet, Landon butted in and sang the line.
        "Ditto!" Mark joined the other flugelhorns.

We ran through I Hope I Get It again. I did my solo. Tim yelled for everyone to "shut up because this is a rare and elusive event." That was true. It was rare that I played solos and even rarer that it was just me. I played out, making the most of my feature. I really needed this job. I piled every bit of audition anxiety I've ever had into the solo. After that, we moved on to Hello Twelve, Hello Thirteen, Hello Love. We omitted the speaking parts of the monologue at the beginning, but kept the other dialogue. I played the "four foot ten" bit because I'm the closest out of all of us to four foot ten. I pretended to be sassy and confident, not sure if I was convincing enough.
        "Netherfield gets another solo. That's not up for negotiation. Good job on the dialogue." He turned towards me. "Inomoto, don't play quite so loud. LaCoste, Patton, Lowell, same to you. Zhao, you're blatting. Schneider, we already talked about this. That's an F, not an A. For goodness' sakes, articulate! You guys sound like a high school band...and that's an insult to high school bands." We ran through everything again, making sure our articulations were top-notch. Well, I guess he liked me all the time.