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***

The Backstory

September 2006

In Nora Priestley’s fourteen years of life, she’s never lived this far away from the ocean before. It’s always been just right outside her window, a quick ten-minute trek from Thames Street until she reached the rolling dunes of Rejects Beach. Smelling the salt in her hair and feeling her skin grow sticky from the feeling of the ocean air was practically second-nature to her, but ever since she moved to the middle of nowhere Connecticut for boarding school, she’s never felt more disconnected from normality in her life.

Nora’s never really been a big fan of embracing change. She’d like to blame that on the fact that she’s never really had any monumental shifts to her tectonic plates so far in her short life, and she’s not quite sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.

It’s always been just her and her mom. A dynamic duo. A tag team of epic proportions.

Growing up in Newport, Rhode Island could be worse, Nora thinks. She was lucky enough to grow up in a small coastal town where everybody accepted her in one way or another. Even though she was much different than the other kids her age, considering she spent most of her time alone while her mother worked, she never felt unhappy. Life was simple. Life was easy.

Nora and her mother, Shannon, lived in a small apartment in a renovated old colonial townhouse at the bottom of Thames Street. It was a third-floor walk-up, and in the heat of the summer when the humidity made the wallpaper begin to curl at the edges of her tiny paisley-coated bedroom, Nora had to sleep with her creaky window open with nothing but a thin sheet to cover her sweat-soaked body, the soft sounds of the rolling waves crashing against the shore lulling her to sleep.

Shannon Priestley was the ultimate leading lady in Nora’s life. She referred to Nora as her perfect mistake, because having a baby the summer she turned eighteen with a boy she thought would be her forever was the very definition of that phrase. But she handled it like she did everything else in her life—with grace and dignity, and nothing but a big gleaming grin on her face that always made Nora and everyone else lucky enough to be around her sunbeam feel that everything would be okay.

With a one-year-old baby on her hip and a bright and shiny high school diploma under her belt, Shannon found a job listing to be a nanny for the Clemonte’s. Without a second’s deliberation, she packed up her things and moved to the tip of the state to Newport.

The Clemonte’s were one of the wealthiest families in Newport, hailing from an impressive lineage of old money with an expansive estate of fourteen acres overlooking Ochre Point and the Atlantic Ocean. They were one of those families that named their properties, and when Shannon Priestley first stepped foot inside The Breakers mansion, she knew right then and there that her new bosses had very high expectations for her.

Shannon became the singular nanny to Warren and Jane Clemonte’s baby son, William. He was born three months after Nora, and even though Shannon felt slighted that she had to spend most of her days with another family’s child while her own was being watched by their downstairs neighbor, she promised to split her time evenly. And even though twenty-four hours in a day was never enough for Shannon, she made sure to spend most of it with Nora.

And Nora was always grateful for that.

The second Nora was old enough to take care of herself, she started going to The Breakers after school so that her mom could walk her home. It was at that very moment when she had her first taste of ostentatious luxury, and from then on it never failed to amaze her. The other half certainly did live differently than Nora and her mother, and stepping foot inside the Clemonte’s mansion made that realization startlingly clear.

This was when she first met William Clemonte. Nora always knew he existed, considering her mother would sprinkle in small anecdotes about him while doing other mundane tasks. “Willy was very quiet today,” Shannon would tell Nora on their walk home from Ochre Point to Lower Thames. “Mr. and Mrs. Clemonte want Willy to take piano lessons and learn Latin. How on earth is a seven-year-old supposed to handle that?”

To Nora, Willy was somewhat of a fictional character living behind the towering walls of The Breakers. She imagined him being a smaller boy, blonde with blue eyes and wearing some sort of matching ensemble sitting inside the thick walls of his mansion, overlooking the deep cobalt ocean through a grand wall of windows. But when she meets him one afternoon after her first day of second grade, she could not be any more wrong.

Sure, Willy Clemonte was a small boy, but he was by no means shy or scared of her. He took her on a tour through the grand halls of The Breakers, showed her all of the secret passageways built inside the walls from when the mansion was first erected back in the early twentieth century, and shared his brand new toys with her.

But most importantly, he listened to her. He asked her a million questions about public school, about the world outside of his tall fortress, about the television shows Shannon let Nora watch after dinner, and the different kinds of popular music other kids their age were listening to.

“Wait, so *NSYNC isn’t just Justin Timberlake?” Willy would ask whenever Nora would show him what was inside her portable CD player (which was almost exclusively No Strings Attached until she reached the fourth grade).

“Oh my god, Willy! *NSYNC is a boyband! Justin is just the best one,” Nora would scold right back, shoving the plastic headphones over his blonde head of hair so that the felt cushions would press against his ear, the vibrating thumps of “Bye Bye Bye” playing through the electronic equipment.

Whenever he would ask her about school, Willy was always shocked to hear how different her experience was from his own. Nora would tell him about the yellow school buses that picked up and dropped off her friends, she would show up to his house afterward wearing jeans and a pink Gap sweatshirt and he was always surprised to learn that kids could wear whatever they wanted during the day, and when she would come over on Fridays and tell him that her mother gave her a dollar for pizza day at lunchtime, Willy wished more and more that he could go to public school with her, too.

While Willy was nothing but sunshine and kindness, Warren Clemonte was the complete opposite. A cold and distant man, stern and grumpy with a perpetual frown on his face, he sent a terrifying chill all the way down to Nora’s bones until they rattled together like a hollow instrument. And one Thursday afternoon when Shannon was busy packing Willy’s bags for the Clemonte’s annual Christmas trip to Aspen, Warren caught his son running around the main hall searching through every nook and cranny for Nora’s impressive hiding spot. It was only once she heard the bellowing yells when she emerged from behind an old armoire in the library, peeking her head around the corner to watch Warren yell at Willy in the echoing hallway.

“What do you think you’re doing, running around when you’ve left your Latin workbook unfinished?” Warren demanded, his low voice bouncing off the thick walls.

“I’m sorry, dad. I was just—”

“—Just what? Playing around and avoiding your responsibilities? How are you supposed to learn anything if you spend all of your time dilly-dallying with that girl, William?”

Willy began to cry then, and before Nora could interfere, her mother was already ten steps ahead of her, entering the main hall and apologizing profusely while her daughter stayed hidden behind the old armoire, watching everything with regretful eyes.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Clemonte. I was just packing for Willy, I didn’t realize he had run off. I’ll make sure it never happens again, sir,” Shannon said, placing a comforting arm around Willy’s shaking shoulders while his father stood barely five feet away, watching his wailing son with lifeless eyes.

“Please do, Miss Priestley. William does not need any more distractions.” His voice held a clipped finality to it, and when he walked away and Nora appeared from behind the wall to approach Willy who was clutching her mother for dear life, she never understood how his father could just leave his son to fall apart in front of him like that.

That was the last afternoon Nora ever spent at The Breakers.

Up until four months ago, Nora was almost certain that the entire Clemonte family had forgotten that she existed, and that treacherous afternoon with Willy nearly seven years ago was just a sad memory that could be tarnished for the rest of eternity. But when her mother comes home with a thick black and red folder, the words Townbridge Academy in capital letters splayed against the front page above a golden crest, Nora’s never been more confused in her life.

When she asked her mother what she was doing with a boarding school acceptance letter in her hand that Nora had never heard of before, the answer she received was definitely not what she had expected. Apparently, Mrs. Clemonte found out that Nora was planning on attending the public high school on Broadway Street, and apparently, she believed that she could offer Shannon a lending hand. Nora would like to blame it all on Jane Clemonte’s philanthropic tendencies, but a few phone calls and a faxed copy of Nora’s stellar transcripts later, Nora was appointed a lofty scholarship to attend Townbridge Academy in the fall.

All things considered, Nora did not want to go. She liked her middle school friends, she liked being her own person, she liked knowing that her mom was only a twenty-minute walk away, and most importantly, she liked not having to be associated with a family like the Clemonte’s. She didn’t want to be seen as a charity case, and accepting the scholarship on Mrs. Clemonte’s behalf to attend a prestigious boarding school like Townbridge Academy was exactly that.

But when her mother sat her down and told her how amazing this opportunity was, and how much Nora could accomplish with a diploma from one of the best schools in the country, Nora couldn’t bring herself to say no. Especially when her mother held her close and whispered in her ear, “God, Nora, you can do all of the things I never could have done,” Nora knew that there was no way she could break her mother’s heart.

Because now, standing in her new dorm room with deep oak walls, a creaky polished hardwood floor, a red ornamental rug that smelled a bit like Warren Clemonte’s cologne, and a small twin bed nestled in the corner underneath a window overlooking the bleak green hills of Connecticut—Nora Priestley wishes she had told her mother no.

Before she can even wallow in her own self-imposed misery, the front door opens revealing an older man carrying a trolley holding a matching six-piece set of luggage. Nora looks down to the singular old leather suitcase she purchased at a surplus store on Spruce Street resting on the floor, comparing it to the monogrammed navy blue set with the gold letters ARW spanning across each piece.

The man begins placing each suitcase onto the floor without uttering a word to a very confused Nora, and suddenly the door opens wider, a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair floating into the room. She’s wearing a white tennis skirt that rests a few inches above her kneecap, with a powder blue collared shirt cuffed at the wrists. For a brief moment, Nora wonders if her mother purchased the wrong uniform set for her, but when the girl lifts her eyes from her Blackberry and looks over at Nora, she notices a sailor’s crest embroidered on the right side above her chest with more initials, and she begins to breathe a little.

“Hi! You must be my roommate, I’m Nor—”

“—Where are the rest of your bags?” the girl interrupts, eyeing the old leather suitcase disdainfully. Nora’s fingers immediately fly up to her scalp and begin raking through her blonde hair, a nervous habit she’s tried her hardest to get rid of.

“I have a duffle on the desk chair, too,” Nora explains quietly, removing her hand from her hair so that she can point towards the old wooden desk that holds her mother’s duffle bag.

Nora watches as the girl’s piercing gaze shifts from her two flimsy bags to her outfit. And when Nora watches beady hazel eyes take in her old white tank top, her mom’s grey knit cardigan, thrifted bootcut jeans, and sandals from two summers ago, Nora’s never wanted to disappear more in her life.

Before she can find the words to speak, Nora hears a shrill “Alyssa!” echo through the hallway, until a matching set of girls wearing nautical-inspired clothing and thick headbands are hugging the strawberry blonde-haired girl who just so obviously judged Nora a few moments ago.

“Who��s this?” one of the girls asks Alyssa, breaking away from their hug and looking over at Nora with interest.

Just as Nora reaches a hand out to introduce herself, Alyssa says, “Doesn’t matter. Let’s go, girls,” and the three girls spin around without even uttering a goodbye.

Nora watches as they walk down the hallway, giggling the entire way as if they hadn’t singlehandedly just ruined her first official day away from home.

***

October 2006

The first month at boarding school is just a series of Nora playing catch up. While she thought going to public school and hanging out with normal people would be enough to prepare her for high school, three weeks in she’s never felt more lost in her entire life.

She’s one of the only students who doesn’t own a cellphone, she wears second-hand Sperry’s instead of fancy loafers with gold links on the front, her backpack is a maroon Jansport while most students opted for leather messenger bags, and when people ask her how she spent her summer, she’s gotten used to the wide-eyed look they give her when she explains that she scooped ice cream near the beach for tips.

Nora’s not naive. She knows that she’s referred to as The Scholarship Girl behind her back, she knows that Alyssa complains to her elitist friends about how dreadful it is to be forced to room with a girl who wears hand-me-down clothing, and she knows that adjusting to life at Townbridge was going to be the very definition of arduous.

But she remembers what her mother told her—how Nora’s skin is thicker than she thinks, and no matter how different she is to everybody else, she’s still just as deserving of a top-notch education.

Even though Nora was at the top of her class for most of her life, she still felt far behind the rest of her classmates at Townbridge. She spends the first few weeks getting very acquainted with the walls of the library, making the nearly twenty-minute trek from her dorm in Emerson Hall to Millikan Library across campus. Classes have only just begun, but Nora can’t afford to fall any more behind than she already has. So instead of making friends and signing up for various clubs and sports teams, Nora’s allowed her backside to practically mold into the stiff wooden chairs inside the empty library.

Nora would have completely forgotten about the First Year Mixer being held that evening if not for Alyssa and her friends getting ready in her dorm room. When she walks in still wearing her uniform well after classes have ended for the day, the three girls look at her as if she were crazy.

“Did you forget about the mixer tonight, Nora?” Grace, one of the twins, asks with a shocked expression decorating her pretty face. All three girls are wearing colorful Lilly Pulitzer dresses, passing along mascara and eyeshadow amongst themselves in preparation for tonight.

“Uh, no I was just—”

“—Making friends with the books again?” Alyssa sneers, earning a giggle from the girls.

Nora chooses not to respond. It’s just easier that way.

Walking over to her wardrobe, Nora sorts through her limited selection of clothing to find something appropriate to wear for tonight. She didn’t even want to be in attendance, but she’s figured that she’s probably spent enough time on her own, and that maybe, in the off chance that Townbridge has some normal students, she can make a friend or two.

The only two dresses she brought with her were a simple long-sleeved cream sweater dress that fell just above her knees, and a thin summer dress her mother bought her two years ago that was tighter and fell around mid-thigh. She goes with the sweater dress, deeming it the best outfit she has to just simply blend in. Once it’s over her head, she reaches for her thigh-high socks and brown boots she got as a graduation gift, slipping them on quickly. October has left a brisk chill in the nighttime air, and considering her jackets consisted of a worn-in winter parka and an oversized flannel she scored at Goodwill, Nora thinks this combination will be more than fine.

She reaches for the comb on her desk and begins to rake it through her knotted hair, smoothing out the kinks and leaving the strands to fall in their messy, wavy natural state. Just as she’s digging through her backpack to try and find her lip balm and mascara, she can’t help but overhear Alyssa gossiping to Grace and Erin loudly from across the room.

“Harry’s plane landed a few hours ago,” Alyssa gushes, plucking the blush from Grace’s hands and beginning to apply it to the apples of her cheeks.

“Oh my God, no way! You must be so excited, Lyss!” Erin squeaks, reaching for the lipgloss that Alyssa just used. Before she can even remove the lid, Alyssa swats at her wrists and tells her to pick another color.

“Have you been texting all summer?” Grace asks from behind the vanity.

Alyssa nods, readjusting her freshly curled hair. “Ever since he left the Hamptons in July, yeah. We’ve been messaging back and forth. He told me he can’t wait to see me tonight.”

“That’s so romantic, Lyss!” Erin says, and Nora tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. “I can’t believe they let him miss the first three weeks of school.”

“He’s Harry Styles, Erin,” Grace chides, turning to face her sister with slanted eyes. “He can do whatever he wants.”

Nora twists the mascara wand back into the tube before backing away from her desk, double-checking her outfit to make sure that it was suitable enough. Just as she gives her hair one last fluff, she hears Alyssa ask, “Are you really not going to do anything with your hair?”

Nora turns towards her with a sheepish look, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t own any styling tools so…” she lets the words fall from her mouth, watching the three girls in front of her look at her as if she had a second head growing out of her neck.

“You’ve never straightened your hair?! I’m sure Alyssa will let you borrow—”

“—Erin! Enough. Let’s go, we’re going to be late,” Alyssa scolds, ending the conversation abruptly. Before Nora can even shoot a smile in Erin’s direction, the three girls are already out the door, leaving Nora to walk to the Great Hall by herself.

The problem with spending all of her time walking from her dorm to the lecture halls on East Campus to Millikan Library is that she seemingly forgot where every other building was. Trying to locate the Great Hall in daylight was already difficult for Nora, but now with the sun practically set behind the horizon and her sense of direction completely shit, she starts panicking when she’s walked by the dining hall for the third time.

An upperclassman saves Nora before she can have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of the quad, and with two minutes to spare, Nora finds a row with a few empty seats towards the back of the room.

Nobody seems to have noticed her, save for the girls in the row in front of her who turn around when Nora’s boots jostle their chairs. She offers them a muffled apology, and just as quickly as they turned around to look at her, they swivel their necks to face the front again.

Nora sighs to herself, before lifting her head to hear the Headmaster begin his speech. After listening to him drawl about the mission statement and his expectations for the first-year students, Nora immediately wishes she never left her dorm room. She can feel her eyes begin to droop, and before her body can slump further down into her chair, the sound of a heavy oak door closing echoes throughout the Great Hall, and Nora feels her body springing upwards.

Headmaster Clayton pauses in his monotonous ramblings, and before the entire collection of students in front of Nora can turn around to see what the interruption was, a long body falls into the chair next to hers, and the Headmaster resumes his speech as if nothing ever happened.

“Did I miss anything?” an impossibly British voice whispers in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit surprised by the low timbre of it. She looks over at him and finds herself staring into green pools with a golden shimmer surrounding his irises. Nora’s never been captivated by a boy before—but the one sitting next to her with fluffy chocolate curls falling over his forehead, surrounding his ears, and ending at the nape of his neck might possibly be the first. His hands are shoved inside the pockets of an expensive-looking black trench coat, and his upper body is leaning towards hers as he awaits her response. When Nora notices his pink lips forming into a small smirk, she’s almost positive that she’s been caught staring at this boy for far too long.

“Uh, no. Not really,” she whispers back, scrutinizing the way her voice squeaked at the beginning of her sentence.

His smirk shifts into a full-blown grin, and Nora can feel her cheeks begin to burn. “Hm, sounds like somebody wasn’t paying attention in the first place.”

Before Nora can retort, the boy near her chuckles softly at her nervous expression. “Can’t say I blame you, love. Clayton’s a fucking fossil.”

Nora giggles, causing the girls in front of her to turn around again with a murderous expression on their faces. She stops abruptly, and after they’ve snapped their heads forward for the second time, she looks over to the boy on her left and finds him trying his hardest to stifle another chuckle.

He shifts his body so he’s no longer leaning in Nora’s direction, and she’s a bit saddened by the sudden distance between them both.

Nora replays the interaction in her inexperienced, fourteen-year-old mind, wondering if the boy near her was just flirting with her. There’s no denying that she thinks he’s cute, considering she finds herself sneaking looks at him every few minutes during the duration of Headmaster Clayton’s speech just to get another glimpse of his soft hair and sunken dimples. And on more than one occasion, he catches her in his periphery, shooting her that charming smirk that never fails to make her cheeks blush.

The moment Headmaster Clayton wraps up his speech and the rest of the students begin to stand, Nora turns towards the boy and finds that he’s already looking at her. Now that they’ve exited their row, Nora notices how tall he is, taking in his long legs clad in black denim, his even longer torso in a similar black shirt. The all-dark ensemble somehow makes him look older. Makes him look mysterious. Makes him look even more handsome—and suddenly Nora’s grown a bit nervous.

“I’m Nora, by the way,” she says, sticking her hand out for him to shake. He hesitates, looking between her face and her outstretched hand with a smile on his face, finding it incredibly cute that a girl his age would greet him so formally.

Just before his hand can fall into hers, another hand claps him on the shoulder and he’s forced to look at the intrusion, his own arm falling back to his side. “Harry, my man! How was the flight?”

When Nora looks over his shoulder, she notices two boys greeting him warmly. She hasn’t really met anybody at Townbridge aside from Alyssa, Grace, and Erin, so she’s not surprised when she doesn’t recognize the two other boys infiltrating their small bubble.

But upon further inspection, Nora realizes that she does, in fact, recognize one of them.

Standing directly in her line of vision is none other than Willy Clemonte. Although it’s been seven years since Nora last saw him, there’s no denying that the sandy-haired, blue-eyed teenager in front of her is him. He’s practically almost the same height as his father now, towering over Nora in his khaki pants and a white cable-knit sweater. His hair still tangles in his eyelashes and his cheeks are still dusted with freckles, and Nora’s stunned at the sudden rush of memories that flood her insides.

He seems to have made the same startling realization as Nora did, because his eyes begin to widen almost comically, and a strained expression falls over his features. Before they can give away that they’ve been staring at each other, the boy from before, now known to Nora as Harry, spins around on his heels and gives her a small smile.

“Nora, right?” he asks, and she nods hesitantly. “Where are you from?”

“Uh, Newport,” Nora answers.

“Oh, wicked! So you must know Will, then?” Harry asks, seemingly oblivious to the awkward tension radiating from the two of them.

Before she can respond, Will clears his throat and takes a step forward. With one last panicked look at Nora, he tells Harry, “Yeah, man. Her mom was one of our maids.”

“Wait, what?” Harry asks, confusion written all over his face. Nora’s surprised that she can hear it over the sound of her breath leaving her lungs from Willy’s comment. Sure, she knew that the last time they saw each other he was crying into her mother’s arms over a remark his father said, and sure, she didn’t expect them to resume their friendship as if nothing had happened.

But to blatantly lie about Nora’s mother, a woman who took care of him for years? Nora never thought that he would grow up to be so cruel.

To twist the knife lodged into her chest even further, Alyssa and the twins approach the group with annoyed looks, all aimed in Nora’s direction. They seem to have overheard Willy’s previous comment, and before Nora can even defend herself, Alyssa reaches out and wraps her hand around Harry’s forearm as if she were claiming him in front of everybody.

“Yeah, apparently Townbridge is letting just about anybody in this year. Just ignore her, Harry, we all have been,” she says, her tone nothing but dismissive.

Nora watches as Harry shifts his gaze from Alyssa to her. His green eyes fall down her body, and for the first time, he notices the loose thread at the hemline of her dress from overwear, the tear in her socks behind the knee, her brown boots that lack the distinction of a designer label. With one last look at her, he takes a step back, and Nora knows right then and there that she’s been condemned as an outsider.

“C’mon Harry, tell us all about the rest of your summer in France! I want to hear all about it,” Alyssa enthuses, and without a second look, the group turns around and leaves Nora staring after them.

No matter how attractive she finds Harry, there’s no denying that his personality is undeniably ugly. And as she watches him wrap an arm around Alyssa’s shoulder, Nora thinks it’s quite fitting that they’ve both found each other.

***

November 2007

Summer has always been Nora’s favorite season (living permanently near the ocean sort of makes that inevitable), but that summer after her first year, Nora’s never been more excited to be home. She missed her mom, she missed the beach, and she missed her normal friends who didn’t care that she wore sandals that were falling apart and shorts that were fraying at the edges.

When Nora came back from school, she begged her mother not to send her back to Townbridge for her second year. She told her how she couldn’t make friends, how everybody made her feel like a social pariah, and how she was absolutely miserable being so far away from her.

“Oh, Nora baby,” her mother said, holding her close. “You know exactly who you are. You’re strong, you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent—and you’re so much better than those kids who make you feel like you aren’t.”

“You don’t understand, mom,” Nora said through hiccups, wet tears soaking her cheeks, “They hate me. All of them. They never even gave me a chance.”

“Everybody?” her mother asked. And when Nora just stared at her with her lower lip trembling, Shannon combed her fingers through Nora’s blonde hair comfortingly. “I’m sure there are people at Townbridge who are just like you. I just don’t think you’ve tried to find them yet.”

Even though she didn’t want to admit it, Nora knew that her mother was right. So after another summer filled with scooping ice cream for tips and spending every second of her days off at the beach reading romance novel after romance novel, Nora packed up her things for the second time—this time with another suitcase—and set off for Connecticut with higher hopes for her second year.

Things seemed to be turning around for her when she discovered that her roommate was no longer Alyssa Whalen. Instead, it was a girl named Lydia who lived a few towns over in Madison by the beach, just like Nora. They bonded instantly over their shared love of having sea-knotted hair and the feeling of having sand squished between your toes and letting your fingers wrinkle from wading through the briny water for too long. And when Lydia encourages Nora to sign up for the swim team with her, Nora’s grateful that she’s finally found a friend in this hellhole.

Her second year is leagues better than her first, considering in the first three months, she barely had to cross paths with Alyssa and Harry. On the rare instances that they do run into each other, they simply ignore the other’s existence, and Nora doesn’t mind it one bit. It’s just easier that way, she supposes.

Halfway through Nora’s swim season, she turns sixteen and discovers that everybody around her is getting their license. Lydia’s parents bought her a used 2005 Honda Civic when she passed her driver’s test, and when she told Nora that she could use it whenever she needed, Nora felt bad lying to her new friend. Because once again she was playing catch up, getting her learner’s permit over the summer when everybody was already scheduling their exam, and with the way things were going, Nora wouldn’t be able to get her license until she was home again for summer break.

She also didn’t want to admit to Lydia that she couldn’t afford a car, and that her mother would never allow Nora to take her 1997 Toyota Corolla to campus.

After swim practice one November afternoon, Nora leaves the Athletic Center with wet hair to head back to her dorm in Donahue Hall completely across campus. Normally, Nora walks with Lydia, but since it’s Friday and students who live in-state with a license are allowed to leave campus for the weekend, Nora’s forced to make the twenty-minute journey alone.

With her gym bag slung over her shoulder, Nora begins to walk through the parking lot to head towards the footpath that will bring her through campus. The sky is awfully dark for four in the afternoon, and when she looks up and notices the menacing grey clouds, she kicks herself for not packing her umbrella before she left her room this morning.

Just as she’s almost in the clear, she hears a familiar giggle that makes her skin crawl. Living with Alyssa for one excruciating year has allowed Nora to recognize that sound almost immediately, and sheepishly she tucks her chin deeper into the neckline of her jacket, praying that her face is hidden as she walks past the group.

When Nora reaches inside her half-zipped gym bag for her water bottle, she swears to herself when the strap detaches from the siding and the nylon bag falls to the cement. Making sure everything is strapped appropriately, she heaves the bag over her shoulder once it’s zipped up. As she swings her elbow to place the bag comfortably around her body, she doesn’t take into account her proximity to a particularly shiny black SUV—and just before she can escape the parking lot undetected, her bag smashes against the hood of the car, causing the headlights to flicker on and off and the alarm to blare piercingly through the space.

“Hey!” Nora hears from behind her. When she turns she sees Harry jogging towards her, his brown hair dripping from the shower he just took. He’s wearing joggers and a Townbridge Academy Soccer sweatshirt, and when he reaches inside his pocket and reveals a shiny key fob, Nora swears for the second time knowing that the fancy car she just accidentally hit belonged to him.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” His voice is booming through the parking lot and it’s enough to make Nora feel incredibly small. When he finally presses the alarm button on his key and the blaring stops, she can hear his exasperated breaths in its place, and she’s not quite sure what’s worse.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“—I saw the whole thing, Harry!” Alyssa calls over from her spot across the cement, walking towards the pair of them with an accusatory finger extended in Nora’s direction. “She slammed her gym bag against your car.”

“It was an accident!” Nora screeches, feeling her face turning red. “My bag strap fell off and when I went to put it back on my shoulder, I bumped your car. Not, er, intentionally.”

Harry looks between the two girls with an annoyed expression on his face. “Just be more careful, yeah? It’s brand new.”

When Nora looks at the behemoth of a vehicle to her left, observing the shiny black exterior with the words Range Rover written across the front in chrome lettering, she can only imagine the outrageous price tag it has. Which is why she nods, apologizing one last time.

“Won’t happen again.” Nora begins to turn around on her heel, just as the air begins to get cooler and the slightest smell of rain can be detected in the distance.

“You’re walking all the way to Donahue in the rain?” Harry asks suddenly, and Nora begins to wonder how he even knows she lives in that building. She pauses, thinking if he or Alyssa or any one of their stupid friends lives in Donahue, and when she comes up with nothing, she turns around with a confused expression on her face.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t have a car.” Before she can feel the first drop of rain hit her skin, laughter erupts from the small group surrounding Harry and his car. Nora hides her face, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

With one last gulp, Nora turns around and begins walking towards the footpath, shoving the hood of her flimsy rain jacket over her head.

“Well, at least your hair is already wet!” Nora hears Alyssa call out from behind her, with more laughter following until Nora’s a safe distance away from where she can no longer be scrutinized by Harry and his rude friends.

As Nora reaches Donahue Hall with her tracksuit bottoms sticking to her legs like a second skin and her jacket completely drenched, all she can think about is how she’d rather walk another ten miles before ever having another conversation with Alyssa Whalen and Harry Styles if her life fucking depended on it.

***

A/N: Here’s chapter two! We’ve finally met Harry and Alyssa (yikes), so feel free to share with me your thoughts and predictions for the next part! High school is a funny time period to write about, and I’m excited to share the next part with you all. Look out for it on Friday, February 19th, which will be the normal update schedule. Until then, stay safe! x

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#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles drabble #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #1dff #1dffupdates #fic: fade

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petewentzisblack1312 · 3 years

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Do you play anything? And if you do have long have you played it

i DO!! i play violin and ive done so since i was 8 years old, ive played in several ensembles and at some very fancy events. i know my way around a piano (though i wouldnt say i know how to play) and i can sing and took voice lessons for a while (mostly on a favour and with the assistance of a teacher who really thought i was going places with my voice and wanted to help). im trying to learn bass since its like a violin but the strings are 4ths instead of 5ths but jeez is it annoying to play on a tuned down guitar. and also i cant read tabs and will never learn. im glad they exist and make music accessible!! not for me tho yall be easy. i also did music theory! grade 4 in abrsm, it was pretty easy since id already been playing music for most of my life but i learnt new things! and it did help a lot. i occasionally write songs and i want to learn how to play steel pan but i need to pluck up the courage to ask my neighbour (who plays professionally) to either teach me or let me use his pans to learn.

thanks for asking!!

#dils declares #bottom line ive been musicking for a while lol

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dandaelions · 3 years

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🌱🐇⛰️💌

hellooooo nóri! 💖

🌱 Seedling: What is something you want to begin learning?

piano!!! ugh I am going through MAJOR instrument withdrawal at the moment 😔 it’s been a few years since I had to stop playing clarinet in band (due to time constraints) and I miss music soooooo much. I’m far too busy now to commit to joining a community ensemble, and clarinet isn’t that much fun as a solo instrument, but with piano you can just sit down and whip something out! plus you can play so many different styles of music too! as soon as I get a bit settled I plan on starting lessons 😁

🐇 Bunny: What’s a song that you really like?

this is going back a bit but “linger” by the cranberries is one of my fav songs ever - it reminds me of my childhood, back when things were easy and I was more carefree, and it just makes me feel so wistful and nostalgic, in a good way :’)

⛰️ Mountains: Would you rather live in the mountains, city, beach, or the forest?

BEACH BEACH BEACH! I’m always just so drawn to the water and living by the coast has always been a dream of mine. although I’d want to be close to the city as well :)

thank you for asking!!

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kingofthewilderwest · 5 years

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peachdoxie replied to your post “somewhere in my childhood family household late at night…. dad: you...”

monoinstrumentalists are just so frustrating, aren't they

(anyway I know it's because you're a huge NERD and your family wouldn't be able to handle your NERDINESS because there's so much of it)

I know we’re goofing around and it’s cracking me up, but I thought it’d be interesting to discuss how what you said is true. While I live in a musical enough family, I’m the only actively multi-instrumental player. There is a different culture and priority to them as single instrument players, versus me, a multi-instrumentalist.

For most of my family (even the casual players), the concept of purchasing and picking up a musical instrument is consistency and proficiency. I also want that. But I don’t “come across” that way with my musical activities; I may look flighty, undedicated, as I “bounce” seemingly from one instrument to another.

It can look like I’m picking up and dropping instruments (What became of that clarinet I took lessons for for four months, but haven’t performed on since high school?). Or, it can look like I’m never developing any performable skill in them (despite playing viola for nearly ten years, I still sound scratchy, and the only reason I performed on it in college is because the orchestra accepted ANYBODY who signed up). Or, it can look like I’m buying instruments simply to have more instruments (the first question my mom asked when I went to buy the ukulele was whether or not I’d play it). Like an amnesiac crow attracted to pretty trinkets, they might see me as getting excited about The Latest Thing and then forgetting about it a year later.

But see: that’s not what I’m investing in. Here’s how I actively work through playing multiple instruments:

Some instruments are more casual and some are more serious. I did get good enough at flute to be first chair in All-State Orchestra my senior year of high school. I continued playing flute in bands through the end of my Master’s degree. Hell, I played keys and flute in praise band for church this last month! While I’m not in a classical ensemble now, it’s not impossible to expect I could rejoin a community ensemble, or if I had some extra disposable income, return to private lessons.

The banjo, by the way, is my First Very Serious Musical Instrument Acquisition since I started playing viola almost ten years ago!!! I’m actively looking up ways I can get private lessons for this baby and Git GUD! I’m so excited. So this banjo investment is literally as serious as I can get.

Other instruments are never intended to be performance instruments, and when I nab them, I know that. I will invest my best time and attention to performance instruments that I want to be proficient/skilled in. But that doesn’t mean I neglect my “more casual” instruments. There are MANY ways in which all my instruments receive a lot of love.

First: I received my degree in Music Composition for a reason. The purpose of a Music Composer is to compose music, not be a hired performer. And the more instruments I have hands-on knowledge and experience with, the better I can compose for more instruments!

One point five: It is a VERY VERY fascinating experience to learn about all instruments out there. Whether or not I become amazing on them, I learn and experience so much by having on hand diverse music-making machines. It’s a world of difference between reading about an instrument and playing it. I gain endless enrichment by learning how these babies work. Sometimes I’m learning more about how an instrument ticks than how to be amazing on said instrument. You could say part of my music hobby is “learning how ALL music is played and performed”!

Second: Most paid music composition gigs I have are not for live performances. I’m contracted to produce tracks combining MIDI (computer synthesized music) and audio (recordings of real instruments being played). In general, if I can get good sound, audio is more appealing, expressive, and impressive than MIDI. Because I do not have the budget, time, and network to hire other people to perform my music, I can get more live instruments into my compositions by playing more instruments myself. My lack of professional performance-level skill can be worked around by how easy I make the part, how I splice audio files, how I mix the parts, etc. Ergo, it is always a net benefit when I have another instrument to my disposal, which goes back into the degree I went to school for, and comes out in every audio track I create.

Third: It’s fun. If I can fiddle around on an ocarina, it’s fun!!!!!!! If I can play HTTYD tunes on pennywhistle cosplaying Hiccup, it’s fun!!!!!

It’s true that, on occasion, some instruments are more keepsakes than playthings. But that’s rare, and I DO play all my instruments and don’t drop anyone. In general, the only time I get an instrument “to get an instrument” is because I have a souvenir tradition: every time I leave the country, I get myself a dictionary for an appropriate local language (to celebrate my Linguist side) and I get myself an instrument (to celebrate my Composer side). Thus far, I’ve only exercised this tradition on two trips. Getting meaningful, special souvenirs that I also might use for decades to come (even if rarely) is valid, yes?

Last, I want to point out that the majority of my musical instrument acquisitions have been dirt cheap. I think my first pennywhistle cost $3, I got it my junior year of high school, and I still play it. My recorder and two other pennywhistles were an unexpected gift from a high school teacher. I found a didgeridoo in Goodwill for $15 last year. Literally, instead of eating out for one dinner, I got an instrument. Not a bad investment! I’m not being flighty running from instrument to instrument; I’m seizing opportunity to have an extremely exciting life experience, something much longer lasting than one night eating out. I tend to haunt craigslist for radical deals. The banjo, because I’m planning on getting very serious on it, is a raaaaaare investment to get A Good Instrument (and I’m STILL using craigslist to get used to drop price).

For my family, in a mono-instrument mindset, lots of these motivations don’t exist. Buy a good starter instrument so you can learn it seriously, buy an upgrade instrument after you’ve graduated to an advanced playing state, spend a ton of time practicing, they get that. They don’t get “SHIT GOODWILL HAS A $15 DIDGERIDOO!!!!!” excitement. For them, it makes no sense to grab it.

So to my family, when I’m like “Oh hey I want a new instrument!” It becomes this “Ugh, again? Why not SPEND TIME and play the ones you have?!?!” Except it’s unspoken. No one’s mean. And what they show is the lightest tinge of exasperation or lack of understanding, no real mean judging or anything.

I’m not saying all people who play one instrument have the same perspective, but that’s how my fam goes!

So yeah. I live with a different set of values as a multi-instrumentalist.

But hell hahahahaha. Even for “mono-instrumental values”, my banjo goals are going to align well with their priorities. XD Dudes, I’m going to practice so hard on this baby. I’m going to shred it on the banjo. I’m going to be amazing. I’m going to be good enough to perform gigs if I can find some bluegrass buddies. I’m going to compose pieces on banjo and record them. I’m going to kick ass as a banjo badass.

I haven’t had a good music goal for years, honestly. Without the ability to afford private lessons for advanced flute or semi-advanced piano, without collegiate settings to keep me in the classical community, and without the emotional energy to invest in community ensembles, I’ve been cut off from musical performance goals. It’s felt stagnant and uninspiring. Picking up the banjo and working HARD on this thing is going to ignite a spark I’ve been missing for years. Life is more exciting and meaningful to me when I have an ambition, a trajectory, a goal. This is the start of a new bright life period for me, and I’m pulling so much hope and happiness into it.

I AM EXCITE!!!!

#peachdoxie #shit how the fuck did this get so long #I'm too lazy to reread and see if I can shorten it #ANYWAY YEAH MY THOUGHTS #that banjo business #music #long post #non-dragons #my life #reply #blabbing Haddock #sorry sorry sorry I hope I don't sound like I'm talking too much about myself #TL;DR it's the difference between trying to be a master of one versus being a basic jack of all trades understand what's BEHIND the instrmt #learning how an instrument ticks is just as valuable of a skill as being Performance Worthy on one #and like yeah #literally the banjo is a metaphor for the hope I have for my future #It's..... rejuvenating my life in so many ways #and I haven't felt this energized in YEARS

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dragonpiango · 4 years

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My review of 2019

January:

So I recently graduated from community college in the previous December, and I started university at HT with a scholarship for piano performance. Honestly I thought going to a HBCU was going to be weird, but turns out I’m not much of an outcast. It was a nice transition to a new setting and new people and a breath of fresh air! It was amazing having a practice room to myself and the mental thought of “getting to know my music” became a reality although my first piano lesson with my new professor was strange. His impression of me was way different than what I thought. Although he is a outstanding teacher, he might have overthought what I was capable of.... him assigning me my pieces and they consisted of Bach French suite No. 5 in G Major, Mozart sonata K.332 in F Major, Chopin Nocturne in D-flat Major, Chopin Scherzo No.2 in b-flat minor, and the most memorable piece IMHO Ravel’s Une Barque Sur L’Ocean from Miroirs.

February:

So still settling into a new university and meeting new people (although I just stayed in the music building bc that’s where all my classes were) it was Black History Month. Being apart of the choir at school and the only ensemble they offered, we were pretty busy with a lot of performances BUT it was enlightening too. Everyone has been so welcoming and coming from a background in classical music I’ve been introduced to Gospel music not only for voice, but piano. From accompanying spirituals to gospel it really has opened my eyes that music doesn’t have to be so strict. It is a way of expressing emotions and from then on I took my repertoire more seriously in the sense each piece had its own “character.”

March:

This month is a crucial one, not only did I find my “clique” at school, but they only consisted of two people. Ant and KayP. Not going to use their names but these two were the only two that understood who I was and I understood who they were. We might have drifted a little bit since one has graduated but in the mean time, during these few months, have been my shoulder to cry on. They were very talented vocalist who taught me a lot in the sense of accompanying and vice versa. Since our school is small, our “accompanist” was my piano teacher, so every rehearsal was around his schedule, until I came into the picture. They really pushed me to get out of my comfort zone and really get me to where I need to be. During this time, I was still working retail and I have a true appreciation for those who commit full time to retail because lemme tell y’all. That shit is a lot of work. Especially around holidays. Balancing out school and work was a struggle, but I managed through especially when I don’t have a piano at home. I have to go to school to practice and with retail, all my extra time would be working.

April:

By this time, everyone is stressing because of finals, but luckily since I grabbed an associates degree from COmmunity college, I didn’t have to take my core classes and cry. Music classes were all my focuses were on especially performance. I had a few performances in between for our seminar where we perform in front of all the music students, and for me, being a pianist, I didn’t have to rely on my teacher for rehearsals and accompanying. I just focused on me and this got me ready for our benefit concert that I was honored to be a part of. KayP being the current Miss HBCU and queen of the school, decided to raise money for students of troubled pasts who have really turned their lives around in college and made a great GPA would be rewarded with scholarship money that we raised. I was the one who got to close the whole show out and it truly was an amazing experience. Being able to perform for a great cause is always heart warming and I will cherish that moment forever.

May:

So the semester comes to an end and I have juries (where we perform our pieces in front of the faculty and get graded ) what I did not know is that since our school is so small, they invite and pay other professors from the biggest university next to us UT Austin and have them come sit and grade us as well. That to me was a shock moment, because coming from a university in a small town before we had enough people and knew everyone. Community college DIDNT have juries for piano which was odd, but this was a perfect opportunity to really put my hard work into good use. After juries, I did splendid with a few mistakes that I was able to recover from, and lemme tell y’all. No performance is perfect. And I have accepted that. My piano teacher hooked me up with one of his good friends who owns and directs her own music school and I became a piano teacher there. Oddly, I’m the youngest teacher there with no doctoral degree and am working on a BA still..... but none the less, this transition really opened my eyes.

June:

School is finally out, and I reduced my retail job to just Saturday. I finally got my reputation as a teacher at my new job and gained students rather quickly to where I was almost booked up Monday through Friday. With little to no teaching experience it was a trial and error process. I was taking over a studio of a former teacher who had visa issues. So all his students were a tad skeptical with me more so their parents. But after observing lessons and learning their names it was only a matter of time that I was teaching them and really became someone they look up to. It started off rocky because I wasn’t used to a build your own schedule, from what I’ve experienced with teaching at a music school is that someone does the schedule for you. Not in this case, so having to communicate and try to accommodate every students schedule was a tough start, but once I got used to it, the ride was easy from there. Unfortunately, most students were gone on vacation so I had to work with only a few who stayed in town and accommodate those who were in town for that week. That aside, my communication improved after constantly talking with parents 24/7.

July:

This is where life gets exciting. My boyfriend had surprised me with tickets to go to Chicago. I would go back because the city is amazing and food is delicious and it’s easy to get around in Chicago. It was a nice break from work and really helped me bond with my partner. During this time we had two cats. One names Roger and the other Gladys. So a little back story, when I moved in with my partner, his cats basically adopted me. Gladys was a daddy’s girl and kept to Todd mostly but she was very seeet with me and made adorable monkey noises when you picked her up and cuddled with her. She was diagnosed with cancer and the year before that we made the decision to remove her tumor and hope that she would live a healthy life. Well this is where the tumor came back full force and in Chicago, I was a wreck because I felt bad enjoying my time away and leaving her at home. My partner (who is the mature one in our relationship) had a sit down with me about what to do with her and I lost it. He didn’t want to put her down either, but it was for the best. We agreed to keep her comfortable until we knew it was time. Before the month ends tho, we are back home and my sisters boyfriend sends me a text saying he is serious about her and wants to marry her. The retail I work for is a jewelry store and he had asked me to help pick out a diamond for my sister since he knew what she wanted. So this was the good news. We find the diamond, and have it set in her favorite setting and my boyfriend who is full of surprises gets me a ticket to visit her in LA.

August:

So my birthday month is here, and I fly out to LA to deliver the ring to my now sisters fiancé and they fly out to Italy and he does the deed and she says yes. Happy note. But as school starts back up for the new semester, my partner had a issue to where he would be in a state to where he couldn’t move much due to a unusual circumstance. And before that we decided to put Gladys down. It was a tough decision but we gave her the best life we could ever had hoped for her and I was emotionally drained from everything. Having to keep a positive attitude for my students and going to school and being an adult in general. The only way I got thru this period is from my best friend and coworker who knows what it’s like to go through life and it’s always better to have an open mind and ear to talk to. I call her my mamma because she’s like a mother figure to me but also a amazing friend. Without her, I probably wouldn’t have been mentally there at all for anyone. In the time of summer until now I haven’t had a chance to practice because I forgot to mention that i had a Jr recital coming up which is why my repertoire was so big.

September:

After everything passed and I’m in a better mental state, I proceed to my schedule of school and work and find a time to practice in between. What’s great about this month is that since the semester just started, I had plenty of time to catch up on my practice and really get my lessons to become productive in shaping and understanding different musical styles. My partner is all better and life is great because I was in the best part of my life. Doing well in school, amazing texting job, and a best friend who is there for me and most importantly my partner. He’s been my rock since we first met and I can always rely on him and vice versa. He understood that with my free day off that I needed to spend it practicing and told me to go for it and be as productive as I can. I honestly wasn’t used to that kind of support but I am grateful.

October:

This is where reality hits and my recital is next month. I get very crazy about everything. I had all my music learned but because of my indecisiveness, I kept changing how I shaped everything and my mind goes blank. Probably a dark time for me because I didn’t know how to handle this kind of stress. I’ve put on hour long recitals before and the only thing different this time is that I’m getting graded and want to make such a great impression to further my education to a dictator degree. The dress was eating me alive and on top of that, one of my students decided he wants to enter in a competition and I say why not. Let’s do it. Getting him ready for that and keeping my sanity was hard to do but I managed. He did well, but not well enough to get a medal but his parents were very impressed with how quickly he progressed with me. That’s always a plus, right?

November:

The month has come for me to have my big recital and I invited all my friends and coworkers and they all made it. I was truly nervous but if you don’t get nervous, are you even human? It turned out wonderful although the first piece (Bach French suite) was shaky, I had to tell my self that I was having fun and everyone here is here to support me and want me to do well. That little talk was a confidence booster and ended the recital flawlessly. After my recital, my job has their student recitals so my focus was all on my students doing the best they can and having fun. This month was fun because I was selected to do masterclasses for piano students through out my job and it was very enlightening to see how talented the new generation of musicians are! Only positive comments because I couldn’t honestly find anything wrong with any of the students performances and their teachers are amazing.

December:

So getting all my students ready for their recital was a big time investment but totally worth it because they all performed so well and I honestly cried bc I felt like a proud parent LOL. But after that was time for the semester to end up and one class was making me go crazy. Everything ended well and I had ALL A’s and one B but I know what to expect for next semester and everything will be great. Honestly this year has me all sorts of fucked up with emotions and I proved to myself that when I stay committed, I can really achieve what I want. This year was a great year for me and a way to end a decade because when 2020 starts, I know what I need to do and where I need to be.

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salsa-history-project · 5 years

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I’m here for the music

This is my last semester at the University of Akron and this is the first unclass I’ve taken. I’m a history major and I’m also doing a certificate program in Museums and Archives. I’m a student assistant at the Cummings Center for the History of Psychology on campus so come visit me if you haven’t been before. Before I decided to study history, I was a music major for a year. Music was all I’d ever known, but I needed to do something else. I started piano lessons when I was 3 years old. My dad is a musician, and all my siblings took lessons too. I grew up taking private lessons and having recitals, not playing t-ball or going to ballet. I started playing the clarinet when I was in 4th grade and picked up the saxophone a year later. I loved playing and I wasn’t terrible at it. I went to a junior high that specialized in the arts, and I played in the concert bands and jazz bands. At this point, I started playing in local big band ensembles that my dad had played with for years. I grew up going to see him play, and now I was playing with him. I fell in love with jazz music after that. I got an ipod for Christmas, and I would load it up with stacks of CDs from the library. I listened to as much as I could, starting early and making my way through decades of music that was constantly evolving and expanding.

I was in an arts program in high school too, and that’s when music effectively took over my life. I was in the marching band, which rehearsed all summer break and for hours after school. It wasn’t just football games on Friday nights either, we competed regionally and traveled all over the state and beyond on the weekends. Then there was symphonic band, and concert band, and jazz band, and chamber ensembles. I was playing alto and tenor saxophone, and clarinet in those various ensembles. Apparently I still wasn’t getting enough music, because I then decided to join indoor drumline. I marched bass drum one year and cymbals for another. That was just at school, I played in various local ensembles from Cleveland to Canal Fulton on the weekends too.

I lived and breathed music and I loved it. When senior year rolled around, it was the most obvious choice for my future. By that point I was already taking lessons with a UA professor. So I auditioned here and the plan was to double major in classical clarinet performance, and jazz studies on tenor. I started classes and music changed from just something I love, to something to make my living off of, and I knew that wasn’t the right career for me. Aside from music, my other obsession growing up was history. It was my favorite and best subject, and I was your stereotypical four-eyed bookworm for pretty much any historical topic. I decided to change my major to history after my freshman year, and then I accidentally quit music entirely. I didn’t mean to, and it didn’t happen overnight. I was trying to balance school and work, and I dropped out of some ensembles, and things were busy. Suddenly I looked up and I hadn’t touched a single instrument in months. I went from playing every day for years, to not playing at all. Three years later, and now I pretty much only play around the holidays... (Christmas gigs are great for easy money). I miss music a lot, so when I heard about this class it sounded perfect. As we’ve already learned, music and dance are so entwined with each other, and I wanted to learn more about both. I’ve never been much of a dancer, but I’m eager to try and learn a lot this semester. Returning to Guzzetta Hall and ending my time at UA with a class combining my two favorite things, history and music, feels really right.

#music #dance #salsa #jazz #about us

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notepok · 2 years

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How to play the piano for beginners

How to play the piano for beginners Most people don’t want to ‘learn’ to play the piano or ‘practice’ the piano, they just want to ‘play’ piano. ‘Play’ sounds like fun, and ‘practice’ sounds like a chore. We get this image from childhood – some kid stuck indoors ‘practicing’ scales while all the other kids are outside the window ‘playing’. Photo by Sharon McCutcheon How to play the piano for…

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10000badframes · 5 years

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Why I Left Music

To understand why I left music, you've got to start with why and how I got into music.

When I was little, I was deaf, and when my hearing was restored, it came back in stages. I would listen, rapt, to a My First Symphony tape as the sections of the orchestra were introduced one by one, and as time went on, each became more intelligible. High pitches were easier to discern, so the flute stood out like a beam of light in the darkness. What's more, I was surrounded by music on a daily basis. My dad is a wildly creative and intuitive musician, proficient on a number of instruments, my mother and brother sang beautifully, and my sister had been singing and playing violin from an early age. We sang as a family at home and at church, and I was in choir and handbell choir from my earliest memories on. I don't remember not being able to read music. I started with piano, and moved to flute once my arms were long enough for the starter headjoint, in about fourth grade. My first teacher was the principle flute player with the Rochester Philharmonic, and when I moved to Iowa, I learned from the principal of the Des Moines Symphony. Both teachers made the smart move of throwing repertoire at me which was much more advanced than the usual stuff at my level, and because I didn't know it was supposed to be hard, I rocketed forward at a feverish pace. I continued with choir and handbell choir, and as my skill became more evident, I added youth orchestra, honor band, and pit orchestras, and that was just after school. During school I was in marching band, concert band, jazz band, and orchestra. I attended elite months-long summer camps for the nation's best young musicians. I competed regularly, and at one point was considered to be one of the top three musicians in my age bracket in the country. My first tattoo was of a treble clef. As a shy child in a talented family, I was pleased to have found my talent, the thing I didn't have to work very hard at in order to achieve great things. I rested my self-confidence on that talent, and when opportunities came up to show it off, I didn't turn them down. Nobody forced me to do any of the activities above; it came with a built-in social life and plentiful affirmation, so I almost never paused to think about whether or not this was something I actually wanted to do forever. It was simply assumed, as inherent a fact of life as the sunrise. I probably should have known it wasn't for me when practicing was boring; almost unbearable. I heard about people enjoying practicing, and assumed that they were lying in order to look good. I would avoid it however I could, and did pretty well regardless. I loved ensemble work because I loved music, but listening to myself for hours on end, however good the result was, was miserable. At the worst of times, I assumed that my hatred of practicing meant that I was lazy and undisciplined, inherently a bad artist, and probably a bad person. I heard talk about 'flow state,' and how it made the time fly. Having never achieved it, I assumed that it was a lie. Since I'd specialized to such a high degree, music was the only course to follow in college. The culture surrounding classical music then became much more evident, divorced as it was from my little Midwestern fishbowl. I learned about the way I was expected to present my gender, and was pressured by my teacher to grow out my pixie cut out of concern that I wasn't feminine enough to be a flute player. I learned about the ingrained gender divide, and how child-bearing was considered the knell of doom for female musicians. I learned that I was one of thousands of young musicians all competing for the same handful of jobs, which could wait for perfection to walk through the door as the market was so flooded. I learned that blind auditions don't mask your gender if the judges can hear you inhale. Most depressing of all, I learned that my chances of getting an orchestral job - the only thing which I enjoyed about being a musician - were so small as to be statistically impossible. I would have to join the military, become a teacher, or quit. At first, I quit. Two years into my bachelor's degree at a prestigious school, I quit, leaving my family and community reeling in shock. They had all invested faith, time, and money in my dream of being a musician, and I had thrown it away. To them, it appeared to be an impulsive, flaky, and selfish decision to make, flying in the face of every opportunity I'd been given. To me, I was trying to stand up for myself. I was lost, depressed, occasionally suicidal, and suffering from ulcers. I was still battling the notion that I was lazy and undisciplined, and now everyone I knew saw me in the worst possible light. I leaned into my new failure status, and piled bad choices on top of bad choices, embarrassing myself and my family. Years later, when I had leveled out somewhat and come to terms with the fact that I needed a bachelor's degree in order to be taken seriously on the job market, I wanted to do anything except for music. I enrolled in a community college and took math, science, and art courses, the latter having been a hobby of mine since I was young. I'd been drawing cartoons to put in my boyfriend's lunch for years, and in my drawing and painting classes, I honed the skill. When the time came to transfer my credits to the state college, the majority of my post-high school credits were in art and music. I applied at the state's art school, and was turned down. My financial reality became clear; in order to get a bachelor's degree in under three years, the majority of my transferrable credits were in music, so to music I had to return. I was accepted at the music school, and went back to rehearsals, practicing, and competing. It was much the same as the last time, in ways both good and bad, with the notable difference that this time I was resigned to the impossibility of it all. Whenever people said they'd had a satisfying practice session, I lied through my teeth and said I had, too. I incurred my debt, got my degree, and left with zero intention of pursuing a master's, surfing a new wave of disappointment from teachers and my community alike. The shambling zombie of my career ambitions followed me when I moved to New York City due to my husband's job, and I paid hundreds of dollars for lessons from eminent professionals at Juilliard and the New York Philharmonic. I took masterclasses, invested in new equipment, and auditioned. Nothing substantial ever came from it, as the statistics had foretold. I watched my classmates move into the military and teaching, with a lucky few going on to teach at the collegiate level, and even fewer achieving a performance career. I practiced, and hated every minute. Then, at my breaking point, I watched Monsters University. It's such a weird way to switch gears. People took a number of things away from their experience of MU; mine was the message that you can be amazing at something and still never hope to make a career of it. What you have to do when you've faced up to that truth is to find what you loved about the career you thought you were going to have and apply it somewhere else. Adapt. Something better might be waiting. I thought about how live music is being replaced with synthesized music and orchestras are dying across the nation. I looked at my dusty art portfolio. There were dozens of animators in that credits sequence after MU, I thought. There are two flutes in every orchestra. The next day, I sat down with my husband at lunch, and said, "let's move to California. I want to be a 3D animator." This was surprising coming from me; I'd only ever reluctantly taken to digital media, and barely knew how to use Photoshop. My reasoning was that if I wanted to be at the forefront of a growing industry, and if I re-trained in animation, I would have a better chance of getting work than I had now (there was nowhere to go but up in that respect.) There would be more opportunities for both of us out in California, where his company had a major office, and where several prominent studios were housed. He agreed immediately, and got me The Illusion of Life for my 29th birthday. Maya is a hell of a tough program at the best of times. It has a mind of its own, and even when everything is running smoothly, you have to contend with such gauntlets as the graph editor (a mathematical representation of motion over time.) You know what you want the characters to do, but you have to use this thorny, labyrinthine program to do it, and I've cried many tears of frustration over it. You are responsible for every single movement, every blink, every shrug, every breath. It is dizzyingly easy to mess up, and impossibly, sixteen-dimensionally complicated. And yet. Flow state, that thing I thought was a lie? I found it. It was about six months in, while I was still wrestling with the program. I was grappling with the reality that I'm not naturally good at this, that my talent lies elsewhere, and any progress I make in this quarter will come from elbow grease alone. I was making adjustments to a scene, and realized that four hours had passed unnoticed. I felt energized and satisfied. I craved more. At thirty, I found out that I wasn't lazy and undisciplined, that I didn't hate hard work, that I wasn't a terrible person - I was just very, very good at something I didn't truly want to do. Now, I struggle and weep and sink weeks and months into seconds worth of footage, and I love it. Wild horses couldn't keep me away.

#career change #classical music #flow state #3d animation #personal

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caffeinestudyingg · 5 years

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Updated About Me

I did this tag when I was a junior in high school and considering it has been about three years I thought I’d do a bit of an update.... not that anyone asked ha!

What year are you? College Sophomore

If applicable, what is your thesis about? N/A

Do you think you picked the right major? I really hope so, I just made some changes so we might find out in the spring.

Ultimate educational goals? Probably get my masters and return as a professor or lesson instructor in schools.

Career goals? Teacher, Professor, Lesson instructor, Pianist... really anything that lets me use my degrees and feel fulfilled?

Do you think your goals are realistic? These might be but only time will tell.

What classes are you taking right now? Oh boy here comes a long list: Music Theory III, Aural Skills III, Women in Classical Music History, University Singers Choir, Women’s Choir, Disney Lyric Choir, Schola Chamber Choir, Piano Lessons, Philosophy, Theatre History, and Theatrical Design.

Favorite class out of everything you’ve ever taken and why? Maybe AP Music Theory in high school because my teacher was so spectacular or Aural Skills in college because our class dynamic is laughable

Least favorite class ever and why? The 8 am history course I took first semester because it was way too early to learn that much about Europe in the early 1400s.

Current favorite class and why? None of these have started yet but I am very much looking forward to getting back into my piano lessons!

Current least favorite class and why? I am not entirely looking forward to Philosophy because it is going to take more prep and thought than courses I take for my majors.

2. What’s your major/what do you think you want to major in? Theatre Major and Piano Pedagogy and Accompanying Major

Favorite STEM field? Psychology

Favorite humanities subject? Music Theory

Class that you’ve always wanted to take but never had the chance? Band and orchestra ensembles if those count count.

Do you use caffeine and if so how much daily? I am a straight up caffeine addict so anywhere between six to seven cups of coffee or three-ish energy drinks.

What’s your preferred method of taking in caffeine? Ideally, hot black coffee but there is nowhere on campus that sells good coffee so I tend towards zero calorie Monster energy drinks.

Have you ever tried study drugs? nope

Are you a homework-in-the-morning kind of person? I live for waiting until the last minute to get things done.

Do you listen to music while you study? I find it almost impossible to focus when I do but that doesn't stop me some days.

Crowded area or quiet place? Crowded spaces! Libraries and coffee shops are my go to’s.

What’s your preferred writing instrument? Pencil and paper

Do you need to work out before you can study well? nope

Describe your perfect study environment. Still standing by a low-key coffee shop with a small study group and plenty of caffeinated beverages.

Are you procrastinating right now? I most definitely am.

What was the last thing you procrastinated? My directing final scene was written, edited, designed, cast, and rehearsed four hours before it was performed.

Are you a perfectionist? surprisingly, yes.

Do you like easy classes or do you feel bad if you’re not working hard? I love classes that don't stress me out but I can't stand paying for classes that I already know the information for.

Are you a good test taker? absolutely not.

What are you the proudest of out of all the assignments you’ve ever had? My memory piece from my piano jury this past semester. I worked really hard on it and that process was the final piece that pushed me to changing my major.

Do you talk to your teachers/professors a lot? I talk to my professors incessantly! I sometimes forget that we can't actually be friends but that doesn't stop me from eating lunch with them and chatting during office hours if they aren't busy.

Describe your favorite teacher/professor and why you like them. I most assuredly cannot pick only one so I shall describe the three best professors I had this past year:

Piano instructor- even though I wasn't always the most prepared or the strongest player she taught there was never a second that I felt less than or like I wasn't valued. She is also an absolutely brilliant pianist and I couldn’t be more lucky to be learning from her. I am wildly excited about being a piano major these days.

Horn instructor/Aural skills professor- The patience this professor has with me is unbelievable! She is so ready to drag me at any given moment and honestly, I live for it. She is excellent at giving advice when needed and genuinely such a wonderful person and performer. The entire music department is in agreement that she is the collective mother over all of us and we would simply fall apart without her.

Director/Directing professor- This man has put up with so much of my shit oh my goodness. Not only is he incredibly smart and a great professor, he puts up the best shows. He has worked so hard to help me this past year from helping me write papers, driving me across campus after rehearsals, to buying me caffeine when I was going through withdrawals. He is a true gift to our department.

Describe your least favorite teacher/professor and why you dislike them. I don't think that I can come up with a professor that I genuinely and wholly dislike without coming up with something redeemable so...

Have you ever thought about becoming a teacher/professor? more and more everyday.

Most profound thing ever said to you by a teacher/professor? You will never be able to know where life is going to take you so you have to do what feels like the best choice and just keep making the best choices as time goes on. Life will become what it becomes and we have to be able to make something positive out of that.

Best feedback you’ve ever gotten on something academic? Being told by my directing professor that I write “excellent” play analyses.

Worst study habit and how are you working on it? Procrastinating- I don't think I am currently doing too much to fix that... even though I need to.

Are you an in-class fidgeter? forever and always.

How’s your handwriting? small, messy, almost cursive.

Neat or messy notes? Messy

A lot of notes or the bare minimum? definitely depends on the class and how interested I am that day.

Are you a doodler? Nope

Do you have pre-test rituals and what are they? Stressing in the lobby with the other students destined to freak out.

Are you a tangent-question asker? oh absolutely.

Do you make jokes in class? Every single chance that I get.

How many hours do you spend on academics per day? Not enough! Though I tend to be on campus in classes and rehearsals from about 9 am to somewhere around 10:30 pm. Sometimes I just don't have time to sit down and formally study.

What’s something more important to you than school? My mental well being most days.

#studyblr #about me #tag #update #studyblr tag #mine #some of these haven't really changed #but its been a while #oh well

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flutejesus · 6 years

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Interview With Composer Eric Britt

@ericbrittmusic @the-versatile-composer

What got you started in composition?

I used to be obsessed with soundtracks, so obsessed that I wanted to get into the field. I tried my hand at it little by little in high school. My production rate improved in the first half of college, and by the second half I was writing constantly.

What encourages you to keep at it?

I trust in myself. I don’t let any defeating thoughts get in my way or discourage me. Even when I had only just started, I was always proud of the work I was doing. Why? Because I was comparing myself to my own progress. It’s extremely important you measure your improvement that way rather than comparing yourself to industry leaders.

What about the art is most appealing to you?

Music, film scores especially are a form of nonverbal communication. Whether it be on screen or in a concert hall, the music almost always conveys a message that could only be told by music. For me personally, it’s one of the most effective ways I communicate the purpose of a piece or my thoughts.

What kind of classes have you taken?

Music Theory I-IV, Post-tonal analysis, orchestration, conducting, music history I-II. Aside from the obvious essentials for composition, music history is an important part of learning how to compose. By immersing yourself in different eras, it betters your ability to write. May it be form, melodic structure, or trying to emanate a certain time period, its importance is underestimated.

Did you take any music theory courses or music lessons before college?

I took two years of music theory in high school, as well as piano lessons for most of my life. Having never played in an ensemble before college, I faced some difficulty in understanding effective form and structure of traditional classical music. I learn as I went when I got to college.

What was your major, and what was your experience in relation to music and composition in college?

I was music composition/music business. My experience in composition in college was largely dedicated to writing for live performances. College is a ripe environment to have people play your original compositions, mostly in part because they will likely do it for free. Influence also plays an important role. You want people on your side.

Are you working on any projects now?

I am currently writing the music for the video game Underspace, set to be commercially released on Steam later this year. Aside from that, I write music for orchestra, typically with a cinematic approach which I release digitally.

How do you advertise yourself?

I believe the right amount of humility is important in advertising. I used to advertise in a fairly arrogant manner, and it got me nowhere. What I learned from it is that you can be proud of your work without thinking it’s the greatest thing ever. Advertise it accordingly. There is however a point where you can be TOO humble. If you fail to market yourself effectively to potential clients for the sake of humility, you’re shooting yourself in the foot and are not likely to be hired. You can talk about your successes, what you’ve done, commissions etc but do so humbly.

Do you freelance?

Yes. Once I graduated college I became able to dedicate much more time to it. Whether it be orchestrating a suite for concert hall or writing video game music, a contract is always a must. Well, that is in the case that you’re making several hundreds/several thousands off of the gig.

What is the hiring process like?

You have to be social. That’s EVERYTHING. I used to wait for someone to pick up my music and hire me. Didn’t work. It wasn’t until I started reaching out to people whom I thought might want music that I started making success. There are communities online where you can find a pool of potential clients. Indie game developers on YouTube/Tumblr is how I got started. The thing is, YOU have to reach out to them.

What kind of people do you work with?

Game developers. I am just starting my career as a professional composer, having graduated three months ago. I’ve had better luck with game devs than finding people who want music written for concert hall. I know that there might be demand for schools, but I haven’t looked into it yet.

Do you have a day job, or any career plans outside of music?

I plan to find a career in arts administration. I’ve worked in the administrations of a symphony and summer festival, which cemented my passion for the industry. Most composers have day jobs unless they’ve made it financially off their music.

What does the average day look like to you outside of music?

I enjoy reading. Particularly The Economist and New York Times. I also enjoy spending time with family and friends. For the time being I’m working in retail until I find something full time in arts admin, and that’ll occupy part of my day as well.

What challenges you the most?

Territory that is entirely unfamiliar to me. In the classical realm, that would be atonal music. It’s not easy to sound that dissonant. Not for me, at least. I can’t say I’d be willing to make commission if it had to be atonal.

What do you find the most rewarding?

I love hearing my creations come to life. The fact that I’m doing substantial with my time, and finally starting a path in it (profitably, might I add)

Which piece are you most proud of?

Legion. It centers around a rhythmic motif, and is incredibly action packed.

Do you have plans for the future?

My plans stand in pursuing careers in both arts administration and composition.

Do you have any advice for other young people interested in this field?

Everyone will tell you not to do it and get a real job. The truth of the situation is that if it’s monetary stability you’re after, they’re right. BUT that does not mean you have to stop composing. Having a consistent job will allow you to invest in composition. May it be software or sound libraries, it’ll start the essential steps for success as a composer. Having a job that paid well was essentially how I got started professionally, because I could afford the tools necessary to be hired as a composer for media.

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abitgingerwrites · 6 years

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BKDK Positivity Week

Worth ★ Winter Hero Costume ★ Vigilante

Midoriya steps out of his apartment into the brisk late-winter air, and stretches. Finally Friday night! he thinks to himself, tension from the week ebbing away at the idea of getting to spend the evening with friends. Ever since the previous semester, Friday nights were his scheduled social time with Uraraka Ochako and Iida Tenya. Tonight, the bar they were meeting up at was within walking distance, so despite the cold Midoriya decided against hitching a ride. Instead, he snuggles into his puffy emerald coat and starts his trek.

When he gets to the bar, a place called “Lucky’s,” he smiles at the doorman and heads on in, glancing around. He sees his friends are already sitting at their preferred booth, and waves to them as he approaches. “Hi guys, hope you weren’t waiting long on little old me!”

Uraraka grins brightly up at him, scooting over to give him room to sit. “Not at all, Izuku! Tenya was just telling me about this new podcast he’s been listening to.”

Midoriya smiles back at her, taking the seat. “Oh? Do tell!”

Iida clears his throat. “Yes! So it’s a musicologist and a producer who provide amusing discourse about pop music, and the elements that make them popular in our society - of course, these songs have got nothing on the likes of Beethoven or Rachmaninov, but they can be surprisingly calculated!” Iida continues to ramble on about the show, and Midoriya relaxes into the seat, always so pleasantly surprised by how easy the three of them can pick up a conversation after not seeing each other for a week. It wasn’t any of their faults, of course - they tried to chat more often, and had even created a group text thread, but between Midoriya’s piano lessons, Iida’s conducting Doctorate and Uraraka’s Multiple Woodwinds program, their schedules rarely line up. Hence, the Friday Night Mandate. If any of the three missed one Friday, they would have to pay for drinks the next time they all got together - a rule set forth by Uraraka, who could easily drink the other two under the table.

Midoriya offers to grab a round of drinks, and is soon knocking back a double rum and coke. Uraraka raises her eyebrows at him. “Rough week, huh Izuku? I thought your semester just started like, two days ago!”

He groans at the reminder, feeling the beginnings of a buzz coming on as the alcohol burns in his throat. “Yes, it did. And I’m already so slammed I can barely breath!”

Iida cocks his head slightly, sipping at his own drink. “I know you must be busy with your coursework and lessons, but surely it can’t already be any more than the last couple of semesters, right? In this profession, staying busy is essential to finding any sort of success after all.”

Midoriya holds back a sarcastic “Thanks dad,” but just barely. Instead, he sighs and says, “It’s more than that. The jazz professor asked me to join the Golden Lab Band, THE Golden Lab Band! So there’s all the usual stuff, plus the pressure of being in such a high-calibre ensemble, and then, I got coerced into taking on another .. interesting project…” Midoriya set down his empty glass and put his head in his hand, resting the elbow on the table. “I’m always being walked all over by people who just see me for my talent, or something. Even though it’s something I’ve had to work so hard for.” These thoughts had been plaguing him for a while now, but only now in his exhausted, stressed out state -- was he drunk already? He couldn’t tell -- suddenly everything came to a head in his mind and it all kept spilling out. “And I’m afraid I’m going to just let them all down… if that makes any sense?”

Uraraka launches onto him, clapping her hands on his cheeks and turning his gaze toward her. “Izuku, you are NOT drunk enough to be spouting off all that garbage. And you DEFINITELY aren’t going to let anyone down!! I’ve heard you play circles around some of the professors even, for goodness sake!” She lets him go, but not without giving his cheeks a good last squeeze. She pokes a finger to his forehead and continues, “I think you do need to learn how to say no to things, though. If you don’t want to do something, you absolutely can back out! The pros do it all the time. You’re at the level where you can focus on the things you really want to do, not just what someone says you ‘should’ do.” Finally, she turns back to the table. “Right, Tenya?”

“Couldn’t have said it better, Ochako. It’s like that idol of yours always says, the world-class violinist Toshinori- ‘music for music’s sake.’ If you don’t think a certain undertaking will improve your understanding of music, or create worthwhile music, you shouldn’t feel obligated to comply.”

Midoriya takes a moment to process this, as suddenly processing words is a little more of a struggle than usual, before tearing up and hugging Uraraka, and Iida over the table. “Thanks you guys, so mu-uch!” he manages to say.

Uraraka looks at him in wonder. “How are you drunk already?! Have you been eating properly Izuku? Izuku!?”

Midoriya decides not to answer that one, and instead just laughs it off, releasing the two from the hug. “Really guys, I’m so grateful for you both.” He wipes a tear off his face. “Sorry about all that! When you put it that way, it reminded me of the goal here. I’m going to keep on working hard so that my music can affect someone’s life for the better. And we’re all going to make the world see that a life of music is absolutely worthwhile!”

The other two cheer, and toast their glasses. Midoriya looks at his empty glass for another second, then gets up before Uraraka pulls him back into the booth. “Oh no you don’t, mister. You’re cut off for the night! Honestly, after only one drink…”

The three friends laugh and talk the night away, and Midoriya accepts a ride back to his apartment from Iida.

The next morning, Midoriya’s alarm goes off at 7am, which he shuts off once he remembers it’s a Saturday and goes back to sleep, oblivious to everything. He awakens again at 9:30, and blearily checks his phone to see a couple texts from Uraraka making sure he was ok, some school emails, and a reminder from his Calendar app - “10 AM - Bakugou - Don’t piss him off.”

Midoriya jumps up, frantically getting dressed, brushing his teeth and hair, and just barely remembers to grab his bag of music on his way out the door. He half speed walks, half jogs down to the practice building and just barely makes it right at 10. He checks his phone, which has one new message - “3rd Floor. - Bakugou Katsuki”

Dashing up the stairs, Midoriya pauses at the 3rd floor landing, panting. He waits a little bit to catch his breath, and hears muffled trumpet music. He walks toward the sound, and stops outside the door it’s coming from. The sound is enchanting, notes floating along the air, a beautiful vibrato on some longer pitches, all in a somber tone. Midoriya takes another breath, steadying himself to open the door, when the music stops and the door slams open with a whoosh, causing him to have to quickly dodge.

“WHERE IS THAT- YOU.” Bakugou notices Midoriya next to the door and glares at him. “You’re late. What are you doing standing around here, nerd? Get your ass in gear!” Bakugou grumbles, returning to the small practice room.

Midoriya releases the breath he had been holding since nearly losing a hand to a door, and follows him. Do it for the music… it’ll be worth it for the music….

To be continued….

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

#bkdkpositivity #bakudeku #musician au #bakudeku positivity week

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