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- >Coffee and cigarettes
- >That keeps on being what you have to your name. At least for the moment.
- >You are Anonymous, and you are sitting on the stone steps behind Canterlot High School.
- >The end of autumn keeps rolling on mercilessly, and it’s definitely getting colder.
- >You retreat deeper into your fur-lined leather jacket.
- >The cold kiss of the harmonica on your lips isn’t helping, but it’s not like you to stop at this point either.
- >You just let the melody continue, hoping that it sounds at least something vaguely Billy Joel-ish.
- >It’s not the Piano Man, but hey, you’re trying.
- >At least it’s more entertaining than trying to trudge through yet another math class.
- >Oh did you despise calculus.
- >Thus, here you were.
- >Staring at the empty soccer pitch and wondering why you had nicked the harmonica you were playing in the first place.
- >Sure enough, this morning the band room was once again unlocked (thanks to certain trio, no doubt.)
- >And since there was no one around, you had helped yourself to a discreet instrument to amuse yourself with.
- >It was a welcome change of pace anyways. Usually when you were playing hooky, you were bored out of your mind.
- >But now you could busy your hands with something other than smoking.
- >You sigh and let the lonely melody fade away, leaning back on the steps.
- >You expect to get an eyeful of crisp-blue October sky with nary a cloud in sight.
- >Instead you find yourself staring at a massive amount of copper hair and two skeptical eyes.
- “… Oh. The Poofy Haired One.”
- >”*Never* call me that again.”
- >Adagio scowls at you, not amused in the least.
- >You shrug your shoulders and lean back up, moving your things a little so the girl can sit down.
- >She ignores your showcase of goodwill and decides to plop down on a step higher than you.
- >In other words, putting a good distance between you two.
- >Distrust just oozes from her.
- >Unlike Sonata, this girl’s not eager to talk with you.
- “So? What can I do for you?”
- >Adagio scoffs and folds her hands.
- >Now that you look at her, you realize something strange.
- >She’s dressed rather conservatively for someone of her… nature.
- >Sure enough, when you think about girls like Adagio, you think of people dressed in flashy, if careful, manner.
- >But this poofy miracle is wearing a simple hoodie and jeans, as if trying to downplay her already impressive hair.
- >”I have questions. And I need answers.”
- >She states this rather bluntly, not bothering to hide her distaste of you.
- >You shrug again and gesture her to continue while fishing out a cigarette from your pocket.
- >As you light it up (despite Adagio’s annoyed glare), she begins talking.
- >”This past week, Sonata has been acting, shall we say… weird. And it started after she spent time with you for the first time.”
- >Ah. Figures.
- >You had expected it to be something to this effect.
- >After your first impromptu jam session with Sonata, the girl had gotten rather excitable.
- >More than usual, that is.
- >Just about every day she launched a surprise assault on you after the school, and dragged you to the band room.
- >There you played guitar while she sang her heart out, until Adagio and Aria came to kick you out.
- >You had to admit, Sonata was getting a bit better.
- >It was rather strange, all things considered. It was as if Sonata knew how she should sound to be considered “Good.”
- >However, she simply had no technical expertise to recreate that.
- >Mysterious, that.
- “So? What about it?”
- >You cock an eyebrow at Adagio and take a drag from your cigarette.
- >The girl shivers a bit as a particularly cold gust of wind blows through the yard, but she quickly recovers with sheer annoyance.
- >Thrusting her finger in your direction, Adagio nearly hisses through her teeth.
- >”*You* did something to her! She’s somehow gotten into her head to practice singing, of all things! As if we didn’t have enough problems.”
- “And you consider singing a… problem?”
- >You have a hard time not grinning lopsidedly at that thought.
- >Adagio seems to catch your expression, as her own darkens considerably.
- >”Let’s just say it’s not our number one priority right now. We *are* living in the school.”
- >You have to admit, she does have a point.
- >However, you can’t help but to feel like you should defend Sonata’s choice.
- >Remembering what she told you the first time you met her, you’re pretty sure it’s not that Sonata’s priorities are skewed.
- >She’s simply doing the best she can considering how much world has shat upon her.
- >”So I would very much like to hear the *reason* why she’s doing something idiotic like that.”
- >Adagio ends her sentence with another thrust of her index finger.
- >It’s like a miniature sword she tries to threaten you with.
- >You fiddle with your cigarette and blow a stream of smoke high up into the endless-looking sky.
- >The silence between you two grows ever longer as you try to think of an appropriate answer.
- >You could try to explain why you *think* Sonata’s keeping up with her new hobby.
- >It might not be the correct answer, but hey, at least you tried.
- >And that would get Adagio out of your hair for today.
- >No doubt she would be back to tear your throat if you tried to bullshit your way out of this, though.
- >And you felt that outright making stuff up would be rude to Sonata.
- >After this week, you did consider her something of a friend.
- >Days at CHS had gotten much more bearable when you knew that there was at least one blue-haired goof you could make music with.
- >It was no longer a total pain in the ass to wake up each morning.
- >In other words, you owed Sonata enough to not screw this up. She had helped you out, even if she didn’t know it.
- >It was your time to try to do something to repay her for that.
- “You know… why are you asking me this?”
- >You look at Adagio with a slightly accusing glare.
- “Shouldn’t you just ask about this from Sonata?”
- >Adagio looks taken aback by your question.
- >Her mouth hangs slightly open, and her eyes are darting around, trying to look just about everywhere but you.
- >She shoves her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, but you can see from the way they’re shaking that’s she’s clenching them into fists.
- >She’s biting her lip to the point you’re surprised she hasn’t drawn blood.
- >As you wait for Adagio to come up with an answer, a stray cloud slowly travels across the sky, and ends up blocking the sun.
- >The shade that suddenly covers most of the yard, including the stairs, makes both of you shiver.
- >Autumn’s showing zero mercy.
- >Somewhere from the distance, most likely from other side of the school, you can hear the sound of students chatting aloud.
- >Some of the classes must’ve ended already.
- >It wouldn’t take long before the soccer pitch had gathered players once more.
- >That would be the end of this private moment between you two.
- >Adagio seemed to realize this too.
- >She clearly didn’t want to answer your question… but she wanted to do it in front of others even less.
- >Glaring at you from beneath her brow, she finally started speaking.
- >”T-that… that girl is an idiot. I can’t trust what comes out of her mouth.”
- >You simply snort at those words.
- >She might be cleverer than Sonata, but right now, she’s lying just as bad as the latter did.
- “You know, if you really believed that, you wouldn’t put up with her anymore.”
- >Adagio jerks back in slight shock.
- “I’ve seen my fair share of hate. Dabbled with it, too. And if there’s one thing I learned, it’s that people who hate each other don’t stick together for long.”
- >You stared at the happily burning tip of your cigarette.
- “Neither are they worried when some stranger causes the one they hate to act oddly.”
- >There’s a slight accusation in your tone.
- >You don’t want to put it in direct words what you think, but you still manage to make it clear.
- >To you, there’s a bit more to this interrogation than just Adagio being pissed off that you hang out with Sonata.
- >No, it’s more about Sonata herself.
- >As you lean back on the stone steps once again, you notice Adagio staring at you with an unreadable expression.
- >Her lips form a tight, unwavering line across her face.
- >”Don’t mistake me for some sappy fool. I’m not like that goody-two-shoes, Sunset Shimmer. Despite what happened, I’m not planning on turning over a new leaf.”
- >She seems to frown at the mere thought.
- >”If you think that I’m ‘worried’ about her because she’s my ‘friend’, you’re even bigger idiot than she is.”
- >Her words sound final.
- >Adagio turns back to look at the empty football field, hiding her face from you.
- >She hugs her knees softly, slowly rocking back and forth on the stone step.
- >”But… I suppose I do feel some responsibility for her.”
- >She blurts that out like an awkward confession.
- >You wait in silence, expecting Adagio to continue.
- >However, she refuses to say another word, leaving you with nothing but the distant sounds to listen to.
- >With a sigh, you take another drag from your cigarette. The white surface is replaced by burnt ashes.
- >Just like her annoyance was replaced with delicate truth.
- “So? If that’s the truth, why don’t you just go and ask her? She might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but she’d give you the answer.”
- >You hear her draw breath sharply.
- >Adagio is still refusing to look at you, hiding her face quite well.
- >And to be honest, you feel it would be rude to pry too much.
- >She’s approaching you about this one particular subject.
- >Getting involved in more than you bargained for was always a good way to get burnt.
- >”Like I said, she’s been cheerful as of late. Bizarrely so. After all, she’s singing, and singing, well… it’s what got us into this mess.”
- >Adagio is choosing her words carefully.
- >”From the very start when we met to the time we got stuck in this place. From our arrival to our humiliating loss during the Battle of the Bands.”
- >She lets her fingers run through her hair, like scratching old, invisible scars.
- >”Songs were always what drove us forward, and they were integral part of us… and still, again and again, they brought us here.”
- >”To a yet another dead end where our lives a barely worth living.”
- >The way she keeps talking makes you frown.
- >Sonata’s sorrows were always mixed with her natural cheer.
- >But with Adagio, there was no such buffer.
- >She simply sounded… incredibly bitter.
- >Like her life was simply going through the motions, and nothing else.
- >”By all odds, Sonata should hate singing at this point. I know I do.”
- >Adagio finally looks at you, having finished.
- >Her face is a mask of stone, bearing upon it that wounded swagger of hers.
- >She’s just as prideful as before, but something in it has changed.
- >Even you can see that she’s only showing it because she does not know any other way.
- >It could be easy to classify it as arrogance.
- >But you know better than that. What’s inside Adagio is pure confidence born out of her belief in herself and her skills.
- >But now, after her face has been pushed down into the mud, that belief is slowly shattering.
- >You have to admit, it takes great mental fortitude to act the way Adagio does, after all this time.
- >If anything, she deserves applause for it.
- “You know, I don’t think Sonata even thinks about it that way.”
- >”What?”
- >You wave your cigarette in the air, drawing a rough circle with the smoke.
- “You said songs were important to you from here to your childhood? In that case, crashing and burning a few times is nothing.”
- >Adagio’s confusion is clear on her face.
- >You can’t help but to grin.
- “Sonata’s not remembering those times. She remembers all the other moments. The ones that actually shaped songs to be so damn important to y’all.”
- >It’s your turn to thrust your cigarette towards Adagio.
- “Sure enough, we might remember the bad times better, but, you know… good times often outnumber them vastly.”
- >You chuckle a bit.
- “She now knows how it feels to be without a home, like a complete unknown. And that’s why she does her best to bring back the good times.”
- >You couldn’t read the expression on Adagio’s face even if you tried.
- >Her eyebrows are reaching towards her magnificent hairline, and her mouth hangs a bit ajar.
- >So, instead of trying to find more words to pile upon what you said…
- >… You simply hand the harmonica that was on your other hand to Adagio.
- “Want to put my theory to a test?”
- >Adagio takes the harmonica, looking positively befuddled.
- >She stares at the instrument with frightening intensity, perhaps thinking whether she should keep it or shove it in your gullet.
- >While she does her best Pawn Stars impression, you stump your cigarette and flick the butt away.
- >To replace it, you fish out another harmonica from your pocket.
- >Both that and the one in Adagio’s hands were blues harps, though yours was much more worn out.
- >Simple C-tuned instruments without too many alterations.
- >You wave your own harmonica slightly, catching Adagio’s attention once more.
- >”And *what* am I supposed to do with this?”
- >She doesn’t look too happy with this sudden development.
- “Like I said, I’m willing to bet that if you give it a try, even if in different form, you’ll see why Sonata returned to singing.”
- >Adagio takes this in with a face of someone listening to a particularly unfunny joke.
- >”Really? A harmonica? That’s all well and fine, but need I remind you I no longer have any musical talent?”
- >She throws a dirty glare at the silvery instrument.
- >”Not that I ever bothered to learn this in the first place.”
- >You shrug and play a few a notes with your harmonica.
- >It sounds, much to Adagio’s chagrin, a mocking laugh.
- “I’m willing to teach you. Or do you have anything to better to do right now?”
- >Adagio opens her mouth for an angry retort, but suddenly comes to a halt.
- >She looks around.
- >The only ones at the stone steps are you two.
- >Few students are out on the soccer field, but that’s it.
- >Nothing but the lazy autumn afternoon, some stray clouds on the sky, and your instruments.
- >Eventually, Adagio sighs in annoyance… and defeat.
- >”As much as I hate to admit, you have a point. And I’m the one who wanted answers.”
- >Looking impatient, she peers into the holes of her harmonica.
- >”You just blow air into these, right?”
- >And then, without a warning, she inhales and blows air into a random hole like she was a fairytale wolf.
- >The wailing that comes out the other end is enough to make you wince.
- “Okay, first things first: don’t just blow into it like that. You’ll give me an ulcer.”
- >You gesture for her to look at you.
- “You’ll want to use your tongue to guide the air flow. Place it against the holes and leave a bit of space there, as well as the corner of your mouth.”
- >You demonstrate what some call the “Hohner Method.” At least that’s what they tend to slap on their instruction booklets.
- >Adagio peers at your face, and snickers at the sight.
- >You have to admit, it’s far from a dignified look now that you’re deliberately using it as a teaching material.
- >Still, you silence her with a well-timed glare, urging her to focus.
- >She mimics the way you hold your harmonica more or less perfectly, catching on surprisingly quickly.
- “You might want to hold the harmonica with a few low notes to the right. That’s what I do. Still, the aim is to find a way that you feel comfortable with.”
- >She does as instructed, struggling a bit with the unfamiliar shape in her hands.
- “Oh, and remember to angle it down to your lower lip.”
- >You watch as Adagio, showing surprising amount of determination now that she’s gotten some instructions, adjusts her hold.
- >Then, without any warning, she suddenly blows air into the instrument again.
- >However, instead of a particularly nasty screech from the silver slab, you hear a crisp and clear note.
- >Flawless 6 Blow. A-note without too much force behind it.
- >You look at Adagio with a mild surprise.
- >What stares back at you is that incredibly smug, haughty expression of hers.
- >But this time, it’s slightly different.
- >Almost like… she’s enjoying herself.
- >”What? That’s it? And here I thought it would take a bit longer to learn. Then again, if a base monkey like you can do it, it can’t be too hard…”
- >There’s a challenging glint in the corner of her grin.
- >You smirk in retaliation.
- “You learn quick, I’ll give you that. Alright, onto the next part.”
- >Teaching Adagio about the scales of harmonica turned out to be almost unnecessary.
- >The moment you gave her quick run-through of the holes and their corresponding blows and draws, she seemed to naturally grasp it.
- >It reminded you of Sonata, in a way.
- >But instead of knowing what she should sound like, yet having no technique yet to get there, the situation was reversed.
- >Adagio knew nothing about the direction she wanted to head to, but immediately understood “how.”
- >You switched into the blues scale, and she managed to play it back to you top-down before you even mentioned it.
- >Arpeggios were even less of a trouble.
- >She looked practically annoyed by the slow pace.
- >However, listening her to play with a reduced pace made you notice something critical about her technique.
- “Oh. You’ll want to keep your jaw free to move, not lock it in place. It helps getting a richer sound.”
- >Without even thinking too much, you reach out towards Adagio’s cheek to demonstrate what you’re talking about.
- >The reaction is predictable.
- >The flash of anger in her eyes and instinctive jerk away from you aren’t that surprising.
- >What you did was pretty much on par with trying to pet a wild coyote that had sat down close to you.
- >What does surprise you, though, is that after few seconds of awkward silence and glares, Adagio suddenly leans back forward.
- >”S-show me.”
- >Her words are less like a request, and more like an order.
- >Feeling still a bit hesitant, you reach out with your index finger and softly poke her cheek, just under her ear.
- >Then you draw a line on her skin with your fingertip, tracing the edge of the jawbone.
- >The gesture naturally makes her clamped mouth relax a bit, and allows her to take a deeper hold of the harmonica with her mouth.
- >It also, apparently, stifles her breath, as she stares at you without making nary a sound.
- >It doesn’t take too long for you to realize that you, too, are holding your breath.
- >Before things get far too awkward, you retract your finger and clear your throat.
- “See? You’ll need to keep the jaw free so you’ll have easier time to eventually bend the notes.”
- >Adagio smiles stiffly.
- >”I suppose, yes. Now… let’s continue, shall we?”
- >You nod and bring the harmonica back to your lips, dispelling all the strange thoughts you just had.
- >As you had previously assessed: girls like Adagio were dangerous.
- >In more than one way.
- >To keep your head in the game, you start teaching Adagio about various techniques, such as trills and hand effects.
- >To be honest, even you realized that your impromptu lesson was disjointed as all hell.
- >You had never been the one to teach anyone.
- >But still, throwing your random knowledge at Adagio was like giving booze to local hobos.
- >It was absorbed and regurgitated with incredible speed.
- >It also was just as fun.
- >Seeing the glee in her eyes every time she managed to replicate your techniques after one or two explanations was… kinda endearing, actually.
- >That wicked, victorious grin of hers was especially contagious.
- >It was like watching an evil overlord experience the joy of learning for the first time.
- >Before you knew it, the so-called “lessons” had transformed into something completely else.
- >Time had passed as if on wings, and without you realizing it, the sun had made well on its way down the canopy of sky.
- >It must have been numerous hours since you started, yet neither of you was showing any signs of stopping.
- >Even the sound of students leaving through the main entrance, heading most likely home, was not enough to deter either of you.
- >Hell, it barely registered in your ears.
- >After all, after Adagio had mockingly thrown back one of your practice patterns with an added flourish of her own, you had picked up the pace.
- >You didn’t simply play something and have her repeat after you.
- >Now you were doing the best you could just to keep ahead of her.
- >Weaving licks together you tried to create a complex enough melody to fool her into a misstep.
- >But, with a lag of just few seconds, she followed your example with frightening ease.
- >Not even your homebrewn riffs stopped her at this point.
- >Now that she had gotten into the groove, hearing something once seemed to be enough.
- >This reminded you of how Adagio had said her whole life had been about songs and music.
- >Slowly but surely, you begun to realize she might not have been using a hyperbole.
- >You had never experienced a learning-pace this fast.
- >To be honest, it was scary to think just what this girl could accomplish if she combined her forces with Sonata.
- >This past week, you had heard a couple of times some girls refer to the trio as “Sirens.”
- >It was not hard to guess just how such nickname came to be.
- >It was no longer about teaching Adagio to just play harmonica.
- >Your dignity as a musician was suddenly on the line.
- >There was no way you’d allow yourself to be outplayed by a girl who had just picked up the instrument, dammit!
- >Throwing a curveball into the poofy-haired girl’s direction, you eased into the melody of Bob Dylan’s most famous song.
- >Something in the back of your head had been nagging about this song the whole time.
- >You took that as a sign and morphed the basic tune of the chorus into a wild version that almost mimicked the lyrics themselves.
- >Adagio’s eyebrows rose in surprise.
- >But, just as quickly, that was replaced by competitive glee.
- >Jesus Christ, this girl wasn’t going to let anything stop her.
- >You shredded like two madmen, each wrestling for the control of the song.
- >As a result, your melodies intertwined and became something beyond the scope of what either of you could achieve alone.
- >You felt like you were drunk.
- >The almost maniacal grin on Adagio’s face was reflected on your own, and you could hear the pumping of your heart give you the rhythm.
- >… Wait.
- >No, it wasn’t just that.
- >Somebody was actually clapping you two a rhythm.
- >Both you and Adagio shot a startled look in the middle of your frantic playing, only to see a surprising sight.
- >Sonata, her ever-energetic blue hair bopping along her movement, clapped her hands in perfect synch to give you 4/4 beat.
- >Next to her, a certain Purple Stuff was staring at you and Adagio with eyes of someone witnessing high treason.
- >And beyond them, well… it seems you had gathered quite the crowd.
- >There had to be at least 30 students watching you two.
- >Not only that, but slowly some of them were joining Sonata’s clapping.
- >Most of them, though, looked like they had no idea what to think about the sight of you and Adagio nearly devouring your harmonicas.
- >You were drawn out of your thoughts by the sound of Adagio forcibly taking the lead.
- >The sound of her harmonica nearly drowned yours, forcing you to double your effort.
- >You locked eyes with the copper-haired girl.
- >The challenge in them was plain to see.
- >Suddenly, you dove into a furious riff by utilizing the momentary drop in the melody as it came out of the chorus.
- >Well, whatever was left of the original chorus at this point, anyhow.
- >This took Adagio by surprise, and she struggled to keep up with you.
- >Feeling a rush in your head, you continued to lead her along, enjoying the feeling of victory.
- >… At least until you suddenly felt an odd tinge of iron in your mouth.
- >Jesus, were your lips bleeding?!
- >You saw Adagio’s eyes widen at the almost exact same moment, and she glanced down at her mouth.
- >Seconds later, she looked at you with slight panic.
- >You both knew it.
- >This had gone on long enough.
- >Without a need to exchange any words, you both brought your melodies to the end with one furious and short note.
- >The two of you swung your harmonicas outwards, away from your mouths.
- >What followed was a great inhale as you two calmed your breathing.
- >The silence at the yard was like a heavy cloak draping over everything.
- >Only your heaving breaths broke it.
- >It was only now, after it was over, you realized that both you and Adagio were sweating profusely.
- >You were *exhausted*.
- >How the hell things had escalated to this point, you couldn’t figure out.
- >Still, you had to admit it.
- >You were feeling pretty damn good.
- >And judging by the exhilarated grin on Adagio’s face… so was she.
- >What eventually drew you out of your stupor was the sound of a single person clapping.
- >You knew who it was even before looking.
- >Really, there was just one possible culprit.
- >And indeed, when you turned your head, you saw Sonata’s excited face as she applauded your performance in the awkward silence.
- >Next to the blue-haired goof, Aria looked like she wanted to dig a hole and disappear into it.
- >Or, perhaps, bury Sonata in it.
- >One or the other.
- >Seconds passed as the pitiful sound of Sonata’s sole ovation faltered more and more, teetering on the brink of quieting down completely.
- >When, out of nowhere, it was joined by someone else.
- >Both you and Adagio barely believed what you were seeing.
- >Not far away from Sonata, a girl with baconswirl-like hair was hitting her hands together again and again.
- >You remembered her vaguely. It was the same girl who had shown you around during your first day at CHS.
- >Adagio seemed to know her too, as her expression morphed into that of pure rage.
- >The other students seemed to think otherwise.
- >One-by-one, still looking a bit confused, they joined in the applause.
- >Before you knew it, you were suddenly the reason for a thirty-plus people clapping their hands together in appreciation.
- >You glanced at the redhead again.
- >Her attention was solely on Adagio.
- >And in contrast of your poofy-haired friend’s anger, she looked… conflicted. Happy, but conflicted.
- >”Well… I can’t say I expected this.”
- >Adagio’s words draw your attention back to her.
- >She flashes another wicked grin and winks at you.
- >”The crowd and the ovation is the norm for me, but… to think I’m actually starting to understand what you meant. That’s just shocking.”
- “I told you would. Sonata’s onto something, you know?”
- >Adagio chuckles and suddenly extends her hand.
- >She offers her fist towards you.
- >”So it would seem. Even a blind chicken finds a kernel of corn every now and then.”
- >After a bit of hesitation, you extend your own hand.
- >Your fist meets Adagio’s with a gentle bump.
- “Damn right.”
- >You were Anonymous.
- >Cigarettes and coffee were still the only things you had to your name.
- >But surprisingly enough, you had went and gained another friend.
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