Symphony of Sound.
Over The Waves.
Orchestra comes around the next day faster than Zack would like. He’s not practiced at all, for the first time in as long as he can remember. He was too distracted by his current outlook on life to even think about practicing, in any case.
They’ve decided to do something more contemporary, and Zack finds himself staring at the sheet music for Fireflies by Owl City –something he’d really rather not play.
Everyone else is taking a few minutes or so to relax, while Zack and Mike try to work on their violin harmonies for the song.
He fumbles more than a few notes (which makes Mike raise a concerned eyebrow at him) when he sees Rian and Cassadee across the hall, holding hands and staring into each others eyes. It makes Zack honestly want to throw up.
But he works past it, ignoring them as best as he can and tries to focus on the notes in front of him.
He makes the mistake of glancing upwards again, only to be met with the sight of the two of them kissing. He feels the bile rise up in his throat and he stops playing, pulling his violin away from his shoulder and trying to remember how to breathe.
“You okay, Zack?” Mike asks, his voice filled with concern.
“Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine. I just feel a little sick, that’s all.”
Mike nods a little, resting his violin in his lap.
“You look it. You should probably go to the nurse or something, see if she can give you a free pass out of lessons tomorrow.”
“No, it’s not that bad.” Zack says, wincing as he sees them kiss again. “My throat just hurts a little, that’s all.”
It’s not a total lie, for once, because the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend has made a lump rise up in his throat that is causing him a bit of an issue when it comes to breathing.
“Everyone back in your seats!” Mr. Johnson yells, and Zack winces as his voice forcefully cuts through his thoughts.
He tries, he really does, to keep focused on the song and what he’s playing, how he should move his fingers for the notes and how the bow should move and angle for certain sustains.
They’re on the second attempt when he screws up, and for once it’s not just a few notes that only he would notice –this time, it’s huge.
He doesn’t know how he manages it, really –whether he angles the bow wrong or fumbles over the strings or what. All he does know is that his violin makes a noise it really shouldn’t, and he flips, pulling it away from his shoulder and ruffling his hair, frowning at the music on the stand in front of him and tugging at his bangs.
He’s frustrated at himself, mainly for letting this get to him like it has.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mike asks, reaching over to him and resting a hand on his upper arm. Zack flinches away from him, feeling tears pricking up in his eyes even though he has no real reason to be crying.
Everything grinds to a halt behind them as Zack shakes his head and wipes at his eyes.
“Come on, you need to go to the nurse’s office.” Mike says softly, moving Zack’s violin from his lap before packing it up and taking hold of Zack’s wrist. He mumbles something to Mr. Johnson before pulling Zack outside of the auditorium and in the direction of the nurse’s office, leaving the rest of the orchestra sitting confused.
“Is he okay?” Alex whispers, leaning forward in his seat to talk to Jack. The younger boy shrugs.
“He’s not mentioned anything being wrong recently. He did look a little sickly earlier, though.”
“Maybe he ate something funky for lunch?” Alex suggests, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t need to go to the damn nurse’s office,” Zack complains loudly, trying to pull his wrist from Mike’s vice like grip.
“Yes, you do. You’re pale as Hell and you just had a semi breakdown because you screwed up a violin part.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m ill!” Zack says, frustrated. “It just means I’m distracted!”
“But still, we’re going to the nurse’s office and getting you a pass out of lessons for tomorrow. If you’re this off now, you’ll probably be worse by tomorrow.”
Zack shrugs, because he’s not about to turn down a ‘get out of class free’ care –especially when his timetable for tomorrow is complete crap.
Mike opens the nurse’s door without knocking (but he’s a senior, he can get away with these things) and demands that Zack gets written out of class tomorrow.
Ms. Taylor, the nurse, takes one long look at Zack before immediately turning back to her computer and writing him off timetable for tomorrow.
“You look very pale, dear. Are you sure you’ve not got that sickness bug that’s been going around? Come here; let me check your temperature.”
Zack sighs, moving further into the office so that she can rest her hand on his forehead. She frowns a little at his temperature.
“You should go up to bed, Zack, before you get any worse.”
When Mike returns to orchestra without Zack, he’s immediately questioned from about seven different angles about the younger boy.
“Where is he?”
“Is he okay?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s fine,” Mike answers, silencing them all, “he’s just a little tired and frustrated, that’s all. He’s taking tomorrow off to sort out what’s going on in his head and catch up on some sleep.”
Mr. Johnson nods, ushering Mike back into his seat.
“Mike, it looks like you’ll be taking the solo until Zack is well again, then. We’ll do one more practice today, then you can go away and learn the song for next week.” Mr. Johnson continues with a slight nod. “Jack, do you think you could get Zack’s sheet music to him for me?”
Jack nods, leaning over in his seat to pluck the music from the other boy’s stand, tucking it safely into the plastic folder beside his own.
It’s odd, playing without Zack, Jack decides around halfway through the song. It’s not that Mike isn’t as good as Zack is (which, granted, he isn’t), it’s more that Jack can’t remember the slightly older boy ever missing orchestra –ever.
Mr. Johnson seems less enthusiastic than before and weakly congratulates them on how good they sound before dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
Zack finds himself curled up in bed with too many quilts, his cell phone in his hand as he texts his cousin.
Sure, Andy can be as annoying as Hell sometimes, and he can sometimes be a bit of an asshole, but he’s good to talk to. And, after all, he’s the closest Zack really has to a brother.
He’s only two years older than Zack –not long eighteen, actually- but he still gives great advice and generally knows when to be serious about something, and when to stop messing around.
‘I’m in like with someone, Andy.’
‘Again? Who is it this time?’
‘You know who Rian is, don’t you?’
‘Not that short curly haired idiot I met over summer? You have got to be kidding me.’
‘Unfortunately, I’m not. And that ‘curly haired idiot’ happens to be my best friend.’
‘Oh, God. That makes everything worse.’
‘Don’t remind me. Any useful suggestions on what the Hell I should do would be welcomed, by the way.’
‘Do you want me to ask Mom about what she’d do? I’d offer to ask Em, but she’s only twelve. She’s not going to be much use.’
‘You can if you think she’ll have an idea what to do. But, whatever you do, don’t mention it’s anything to do with me. I don’t want a Spanish Inquisition.’
‘Alright, I’ll ask her in the morning before I leave for college.’
‘Okay, thanks. I should probably go sleep –they’ve taken me off timetable because I look a bit pale.’
‘I’m jealous. I’ll see you soon, anyway. Night, Zee. XO.’
‘Night, Andy. Thanks for talking to me. xx.’
Zack turns his cell phone off and sits it on the nightstand, right beside the photograph of him and his mother.
“Goodnight, Mom.”
Rian, Jack and Alex return to the junior block around a half hour later, and Rian immediately heads for Zack’s dorm.
“I’d leave him, if I were you.” Alex says, resting his hand on Rian’s shoulder to stop the slightly younger boy from starting to climb the stairs. “I know if I was ill, I wouldn’t want anyone to be around me while I sorted myself out.”
Rian frowns at him, but ultimately, he decides against going up to Zack’s room. Alex is usually right, anyway.
He sits on the floor in the common room, beside the fire, and plays a few games of ‘go fish’ with David, Paul and William (all of which he loses –spectacularly, at that) before Greta decides that she wants to watch the latest episode of American Idol, so he stays down and watches it with her. He finds it unashamedly hilarious how annoyed she gets at it –he’s never seen anyone get this het up about a TV show since his mother and the finale of Lost (as he recalls, there was plentiful swearing and shouting at the TV like it would change anything.)
“What are you doing?” Greta yells, almost jumping up out of her seat as she gesticulates wildly, her frustration obvious.
Rian laughs gently at her, slinking away and upstairs without her noticing.
He’s about to unlock the door to his room when he hears the noise of a violin across the hall. He turns, takes a step toward Zack’s door and frowns when he hears a gentle, hiccupped sob through the aged wood.
The violin starts up again and Rian pauses, resting his fist against the wood before knocking lightly. The music stops, and he hears the sound of the younger boy sniff.
“You okay in there, Zee?”
They’ve decided to do something more contemporary, and Zack finds himself staring at the sheet music for Fireflies by Owl City –something he’d really rather not play.
Everyone else is taking a few minutes or so to relax, while Zack and Mike try to work on their violin harmonies for the song.
He fumbles more than a few notes (which makes Mike raise a concerned eyebrow at him) when he sees Rian and Cassadee across the hall, holding hands and staring into each others eyes. It makes Zack honestly want to throw up.
But he works past it, ignoring them as best as he can and tries to focus on the notes in front of him.
He makes the mistake of glancing upwards again, only to be met with the sight of the two of them kissing. He feels the bile rise up in his throat and he stops playing, pulling his violin away from his shoulder and trying to remember how to breathe.
“You okay, Zack?” Mike asks, his voice filled with concern.
“Yeah... Yeah, I’m fine. I just feel a little sick, that’s all.”
Mike nods a little, resting his violin in his lap.
“You look it. You should probably go to the nurse or something, see if she can give you a free pass out of lessons tomorrow.”
“No, it’s not that bad.” Zack says, wincing as he sees them kiss again. “My throat just hurts a little, that’s all.”
It’s not a total lie, for once, because the sight of his best friend and his girlfriend has made a lump rise up in his throat that is causing him a bit of an issue when it comes to breathing.
“Everyone back in your seats!” Mr. Johnson yells, and Zack winces as his voice forcefully cuts through his thoughts.
He tries, he really does, to keep focused on the song and what he’s playing, how he should move his fingers for the notes and how the bow should move and angle for certain sustains.
They’re on the second attempt when he screws up, and for once it’s not just a few notes that only he would notice –this time, it’s huge.
He doesn’t know how he manages it, really –whether he angles the bow wrong or fumbles over the strings or what. All he does know is that his violin makes a noise it really shouldn’t, and he flips, pulling it away from his shoulder and ruffling his hair, frowning at the music on the stand in front of him and tugging at his bangs.
He’s frustrated at himself, mainly for letting this get to him like it has.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mike asks, reaching over to him and resting a hand on his upper arm. Zack flinches away from him, feeling tears pricking up in his eyes even though he has no real reason to be crying.
Everything grinds to a halt behind them as Zack shakes his head and wipes at his eyes.
“Come on, you need to go to the nurse’s office.” Mike says softly, moving Zack’s violin from his lap before packing it up and taking hold of Zack’s wrist. He mumbles something to Mr. Johnson before pulling Zack outside of the auditorium and in the direction of the nurse’s office, leaving the rest of the orchestra sitting confused.
“Is he okay?” Alex whispers, leaning forward in his seat to talk to Jack. The younger boy shrugs.
“He’s not mentioned anything being wrong recently. He did look a little sickly earlier, though.”
“Maybe he ate something funky for lunch?” Alex suggests, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t need to go to the damn nurse’s office,” Zack complains loudly, trying to pull his wrist from Mike’s vice like grip.
“Yes, you do. You’re pale as Hell and you just had a semi breakdown because you screwed up a violin part.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m ill!” Zack says, frustrated. “It just means I’m distracted!”
“But still, we’re going to the nurse’s office and getting you a pass out of lessons for tomorrow. If you’re this off now, you’ll probably be worse by tomorrow.”
Zack shrugs, because he’s not about to turn down a ‘get out of class free’ care –especially when his timetable for tomorrow is complete crap.
Mike opens the nurse’s door without knocking (but he’s a senior, he can get away with these things) and demands that Zack gets written out of class tomorrow.
Ms. Taylor, the nurse, takes one long look at Zack before immediately turning back to her computer and writing him off timetable for tomorrow.
“You look very pale, dear. Are you sure you’ve not got that sickness bug that’s been going around? Come here; let me check your temperature.”
Zack sighs, moving further into the office so that she can rest her hand on his forehead. She frowns a little at his temperature.
“You should go up to bed, Zack, before you get any worse.”
When Mike returns to orchestra without Zack, he’s immediately questioned from about seven different angles about the younger boy.
“Where is he?”
“Is he okay?”
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s fine,” Mike answers, silencing them all, “he’s just a little tired and frustrated, that’s all. He’s taking tomorrow off to sort out what’s going on in his head and catch up on some sleep.”
Mr. Johnson nods, ushering Mike back into his seat.
“Mike, it looks like you’ll be taking the solo until Zack is well again, then. We’ll do one more practice today, then you can go away and learn the song for next week.” Mr. Johnson continues with a slight nod. “Jack, do you think you could get Zack’s sheet music to him for me?”
Jack nods, leaning over in his seat to pluck the music from the other boy’s stand, tucking it safely into the plastic folder beside his own.
It’s odd, playing without Zack, Jack decides around halfway through the song. It’s not that Mike isn’t as good as Zack is (which, granted, he isn’t), it’s more that Jack can’t remember the slightly older boy ever missing orchestra –ever.
Mr. Johnson seems less enthusiastic than before and weakly congratulates them on how good they sound before dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
Zack finds himself curled up in bed with too many quilts, his cell phone in his hand as he texts his cousin.
Sure, Andy can be as annoying as Hell sometimes, and he can sometimes be a bit of an asshole, but he’s good to talk to. And, after all, he’s the closest Zack really has to a brother.
He’s only two years older than Zack –not long eighteen, actually- but he still gives great advice and generally knows when to be serious about something, and when to stop messing around.
‘I’m in like with someone, Andy.’
‘Again? Who is it this time?’
‘You know who Rian is, don’t you?’
‘Not that short curly haired idiot I met over summer? You have got to be kidding me.’
‘Unfortunately, I’m not. And that ‘curly haired idiot’ happens to be my best friend.’
‘Oh, God. That makes everything worse.’
‘Don’t remind me. Any useful suggestions on what the Hell I should do would be welcomed, by the way.’
‘Do you want me to ask Mom about what she’d do? I’d offer to ask Em, but she’s only twelve. She’s not going to be much use.’
‘You can if you think she’ll have an idea what to do. But, whatever you do, don’t mention it’s anything to do with me. I don’t want a Spanish Inquisition.’
‘Alright, I’ll ask her in the morning before I leave for college.’
‘Okay, thanks. I should probably go sleep –they’ve taken me off timetable because I look a bit pale.’
‘I’m jealous. I’ll see you soon, anyway. Night, Zee. XO.’
‘Night, Andy. Thanks for talking to me. xx.’
Zack turns his cell phone off and sits it on the nightstand, right beside the photograph of him and his mother.
“Goodnight, Mom.”
Rian, Jack and Alex return to the junior block around a half hour later, and Rian immediately heads for Zack’s dorm.
“I’d leave him, if I were you.” Alex says, resting his hand on Rian’s shoulder to stop the slightly younger boy from starting to climb the stairs. “I know if I was ill, I wouldn’t want anyone to be around me while I sorted myself out.”
Rian frowns at him, but ultimately, he decides against going up to Zack’s room. Alex is usually right, anyway.
He sits on the floor in the common room, beside the fire, and plays a few games of ‘go fish’ with David, Paul and William (all of which he loses –spectacularly, at that) before Greta decides that she wants to watch the latest episode of American Idol, so he stays down and watches it with her. He finds it unashamedly hilarious how annoyed she gets at it –he’s never seen anyone get this het up about a TV show since his mother and the finale of Lost (as he recalls, there was plentiful swearing and shouting at the TV like it would change anything.)
“What are you doing?” Greta yells, almost jumping up out of her seat as she gesticulates wildly, her frustration obvious.
Rian laughs gently at her, slinking away and upstairs without her noticing.
He’s about to unlock the door to his room when he hears the noise of a violin across the hall. He turns, takes a step toward Zack’s door and frowns when he hears a gentle, hiccupped sob through the aged wood.
The violin starts up again and Rian pauses, resting his fist against the wood before knocking lightly. The music stops, and he hears the sound of the younger boy sniff.
“You okay in there, Zee?”