nothing to get hung about {caspar}

[FELICE GIRAUD]

living is easy with eyes closed

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- - - - misunderstanding all you see - - - - [/font][/color][/center]

Felice sat through yet another boring drama meeting. Letting you know auditions are coming up so have a song prepared, let's all pray for the accompanist who's on maternity leave, you'll have to find your own or bring a cd, blah blah... what? Felice perked up as that registered. Wait, she'd have to find someone to play for her? But... she'd been one of the few people who usually understood what she meant to say. How was she supposed to find someone else who understood the exact feelings she got from the song and could play with them and follow her? She knew all of Felice's favorite audition songs, she'd talked to her about them for hours before. How was she supposed to find something like that again?

Then she remembered why she was staying after, and a triumphant grin spread across her face. Hiding it behind her binder as she pretended to scribble down the notes that were never for her (actually that was a bit annoying sometimes), she recalled the chat she'd had the night before and the conversation during music theory setting this up. Lessons in French for lessons in piano. She'd played a little when she was young, but hadn't really gotten past Heart and Soul before she realized she liked it better off of the bench. She did like playing Christmas songs, but that was about as complex as it had ever gotten. But if she got enough of that skill back to be able to play for herself, she wouldn't have to worry about auditions! And it would be pretty damn impressive. A few extra brownie points definitely wouldn't hurt.

Applauding herself for her accidental success, she stood as the others started gathering their things. Saying the usual goodbyes, hugging the director, waving to the bigger fish in the pond, she hopped onto the stage and sat at the bench of the piano and waited for the room to clear. Once there were only a few stragglers left, she texted Caspar and told him to head down.

While continuing to wait, she went over the list of phrases she'd tucked into her binder and wondered if they were acceptable. There were a few things she particularly liked, and there were some that her step-siblings had taught her Americans liked. She wasn't quite sure if her translation of Baby Got Back could be very good given the grammatical errors in the song and the difficulties she already had in understanding some normal people talking. God, she hated it. She was quite good now, but only because she'd learned basic english through her schooling, but it had lessened when her dance training became more intense. Then when she came to New York they had to reteach a lot of basics. She always felt like people looked at her like she was stupid when she didn't understand them or said something in a strange way. Especially when she was in those chatrooms and no one could hear her accent and make the connection.

She sighed. She was honestly tired of having to explain herself all of the time. At least Caspar was someone who was willing to explain something to her. She guessed that's what had driven her to say yes to him, despite the shock of his request. Plus he seemed very nice, even if a little cocky, but she was, too. Felice stretched and gently rested her elbows on the piano keys, making only a soft and completely off any kind of key noise for a second. The auditorium was empty now, besides her. Was he going to get here soon?


tag caspar!
words howmany?!
lyrics strawberry fields forever - the beatles
credit a girl with kaleidoscope eyes @ caution 2.0
notes outfit. eeeeeeeeee

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[CASPAR CRANE]

To be honest, he’d been hoping to avoid this commitment. He’d approached it the way he generally approached things he was supposed to put effort into: He’d simply attempted to pretend it didn’t exist for as long as he could. He knew he was supposed to be teaching some French girl from his music theory class how to play the piano, and yet…something about the prospect of teaching anyone anything about music felt weird to him.

It wasn’t the playing or the knowledge that was the problem, obviously. Caspar had been playing sonatas before he could read. It was just the whole teaching thing. It was that no matter how hard he tried to conceptualize it, even to himself, he still couldn’t figure out how the fuck he did it.

The thing was that there was no conscious thought process that went through his head whenever he sat down to play any instrument. He didn’t spell out chords in his head before he played them. He didn’t do anything to rationalize songs when he heard them; he didn’t analyze them or process them. He just heard the chords, and he played them. He heard melodies, and his fingers seized them and ran with them. His whole life, he’d just had this weird awareness of the fact that he heard music differently from how other people heard it, but he wasn’t sure how to explain it, or how to teach it.

Oh well. He could probably explain some basic shit, at least. Maybe she’d lose interest when she realized how terrible he was at any sort of human interaction.

He’d been sitting in his room, fiddling with the strings on his guitar, when his phone had vibrated with a text from Felice. Damn. Now he really didn’t have an excuse. Well, at least there was a nice Yamaha in the auditorium. Sighing, he trudged down the stairs of his dorm and across campus towards the music hall, making a point to walk as slowly as he possibly could without people noticing. ”Hey, cool it with the cultural appropriation!” he called out as he passed two entitled white boys wearing sombreros. Privileged little fucks.

At last, he reached the auditorium. ”Hey, sorry I’m late. I, uh, had a…thing.” He nodded at her in greeting as he hurried down the aisle towards the piano, sliding next to her on the bench. Okay, these keys were nice. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

He tried to think of the most basic musical thing he could think of. Shoot, would she even be able to understand him? Whatever. If there was one thing that required no grasp of any language whatsoever, it was music. Right?

”Uh, alright, so this is a C.” He pressed the middle C down with his left thumb. He ran up the rest of the scale. ”D, E, F, G, A, B, then it repeats. That’s a C major scale. And this D key is flat as fuck. One sec.” He leaned over the keyboard to tighten a screw within the frame. ”Got it so far?”

Status: Done done
Tagged: Felice
Outfit:www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=90437389
Words::536
Credit:Bymonica please do not steal
Notes:

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