After what feels like months of video footage projected onto the screen (sorry for the wait), the credits finally roll and Reeds steps out from the darkened corner like an interrogator making his reveal to address his near-unconscious victim.
“Okay,” he begins, wheeling the projection machine back to the corner where it stays for the remainder of the day, “let’s see how well you’ve been paying attention. Can anyone tell me the name of the piece played?” Hands and hooves immediately shoot into the air from the few students within the room. Each were eager to answer the simple question to earn their teacher’s respect. “Mr. Liuk.” Reeds calls out.
“The Joker’s Accompaniment.” Jacob Liuk says with confidence.
“That’s right.” Reeds confirms. “The Joker’s Accompaniment,” he continues, turning on a small microphone buttoned to his shirt with a click. As he spoke, his words were being typed on the board behind him, “was written by Serapheim Nassakis in 2086. It is considered one of the most influential pieces of modern musical history for its use of the then-uncommon instrument the Grantouri as the stage front.” He clicks his microphone. “And how many sections does the Accompaniment include?” He waits to witness hands and hooves once again shoot up. “Miss Heartstrings.”
“Seven,” she says, “with each section lasting eight minutes minimum.”
“Very good.” He says, unable to mask how impressed he is by her understanding of the piece. He clicks the mic. “Lasting just under an hour, it’s far from simple as its verses and solos are directly inspired by late twentieth-century progressive rock music, giving it a unique structure compared to other symphonies of its time and before.” He clicks. “Can you tell me why I have shown it to you today?” He waits for his audience to answer his question.
To his surprise, no hand or hoof rose to the challenge. Instead, after a brief pause, a low murmuring woke among the students as they started asking themselves and each other what the possible answers could be. Luke’s hand slowly rises out of the ambience and Reeds picks him out.
“Is it the obscure use of the saxophone quartet?” He asks.
“Nope.” Reeds says. “I’ll give a hint; it’s about the music itself.” A vague hint, but a hint nonetheless. Once again, whispers and murmurs grew in the room as their answers narrow from the given hint.
Nick, who had been sitting in silence since his arrival, too tries to think of what he could have planned for the group but his thoughts turn him blank. Who could possibly guess the reason Reeds presents the piece to them.
“And here’s me thinking I had a smart group.” Reeds silently remarks. He turns to the screen and writes with an electronic pen in bold capital letters “PHRYGIA” before turning back to the class. “This,” he says, ruling a line under the word, “is the reason I’ve shown you the piece.”
“The Phrygian Scale?”
“Yes. The Phrygian Scale. Is everyone familiar with it?” He scans the room and recognises puzzled expressions across the majority of his pupils.
Nick, finally understanding the reasoning behind Reeds’ thought process, decides to contribute to the discussion, stating, “The entire score is written in the Phrygian Scale.” Heads turn in his direction and he glances over them. Reeds too stares at him with a varied mix of negative expressions. “It’s created by flattening the second note in the scale and is used most commonly in south-eastern Europe.”
“If you want to join the discussion, raise your hand to answer questions.” Reeds says sharply with an undermining tone. Nick rolls his eyes. It’s not much of a debate if you need permission to voice your thoughts. “Is that a problem, Galluver?”
“No, sir, no problem at all.” He thought best if he let the situation slip by without further agitation.
“That’s what I thought.” Reeds says, fulfilling his expression’s feelings, before continuing to talk about the class’s lesson, clicking his mic. “As described by Mr. Galluver,” he gives him a sharp look. Little did he realise, or care for that matter, the board had typed out what he just said, “the Phrygian Scale is a regular scale with a flattened second note.” He turns and writes an A Minor Scale on the screen and flattens the second note, B. He clicks his mic before saying, “This is a Minor Phrygian Scale.” He taps the screen. “What notes do I need to flat to make a Major Phrygian Scale?”
He glares at Nick who flinches at his gaze. A hoof among the group rises, but he holds his stare for another moment before addressing her.
“The third, sixth and seventh note.” Octavia answers.
“Correct.” He turns to flatten the C, F and G notes. “And what does this do exactly?”
Octavia answers again, stating, “It supposedly gives the impression of eeriness and a dark atmosphere.”
“Good.” Reeds says, writing the words “EERY” and “DARK” on the screen. “Now that we understand the basics of Phrygia, let’s see if you can-” Before he can continue their lesson, the cuckoo clock upon the wall chimes and the bird chirps to indicate the end of the class and the door to the room unlocks itself.
Reeds turns to the clock as the room collectively sighs a relief and verbal ambience fills the room. “Guess I shouldn’t have shown the whole video.” He mumbles. He turns to his students standing up and starting to make their routes towards the door. “We’ll continue our lesson on the Phrygian Scale tomorrow.” Reeds says as he pulls out a swivel stool from under his counter and sits on it, throwing the tail of his coat over the back. “For homework, I want you to research and practice the Scale and present to me a minimum one minute of score. The style is your choice.”
He watches his group leave and catches Nick trying to sneak out with them. He calls his name and he stops, wincing at the fact he’s been caught and turns to face him. He notices Mika still sitting at his desk.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To my next class, sir.” He answers. The rest of the class leave and the door clicks shut sounding like the bars in a prison cell at day’s end.
“Not until I have a word with you about your absence. Both of you.” He glances to Mika.
Nick makes his way to the front of the desk as Mika stands from his. As he walks towards the desk with a book in his hand, Mika takes out a gold coin from his trouser pocket and holds it on his finger and thumb. He flicks it into the air, flipping as it ascends and descends. It lands perfectly in his open palm and he stares at it, taking it in, before dropping it back into his pocket and wrapping both hands around the book. His face remains stern and concentrated.
They stand at the desk and await their reprimand. He turns first to Nick.
“I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Mr. Galluver.” He says.
“You have, sir?”
“I have indeed. You’re quite the interesting topic of conversation about Circle. With talk of a prodigy within the musical industry, how can one not bend their ear and ignore it.”
“I’m not for boasting. I simply enjoy music.” He doesn’t question which circle he speaks of as his hunch already knows.
“And yet, here you are.”
“Sir?”
“Coming into my class, acting like a snob cat turning his nose away from the poor-quality food placed within his silver-encrusted bowl, like you’re fifty feet above the common man.”
“You can’t justify that, I think no such thing.” Nick tries, pleading his innocence.
“I can justify whatever I please. I am after all he who teaches.”
Nick throws his arms up in frustration. “What’s any of this got to do with my absence anyway? Wasn’t that your purpose for keeping me behind?”
“Hm, so it is.” He says, leaning back on his stool and folding his arms. It’s clear he had more to say but for whatever reason ended it there. “So, what’s your excuse?”
“Not an excuse, but the truth.”
“And that is?”
“I told you an hour ago, this class isn’t scheduled for that day.”
“Is that so?” He leans forward and unfolds his arms. “And I suppose you have proof?”
Nick fidgets around his trouser pockets for the school device only to remember he left it in the drawer in his bedroom. Thinking fast, he questions his ability to be orderly by asking, “Don’t you have a roster of your classes? You can check for yourself.”
Reeds squints at him. He knows he’s right and despised it. It was the clear expression on his face that gave that away. He waits and Nick for a second thought he was going to question why he didn’t have his schedule with him. Luckily he remains silent as he bends to his side and reaches to open a drawer at the bottom. Nick releases a subtle sigh as he pulls out a thick folder, as he had no laptop, and drops it onto the surface of the desk. He opens it up and flicks through the pages until he comes across the roster with yesterday’s class and runs his finger down the list of students listed alphabetically by last name.
His face puffs as he’s unable to find Nick’s name. He flicks to today and runs his finger again. There was his name, as black and white as the rest. He scans the other days as well to find that he only has Nick one day of the week.
“You seem to be telling the truth.” He says, tongue in cheek. “That still doesn’t excuse your behaviour in class today.” He adds with a smirk. Nick sharply tilts his head back but doesn’t question it further. “However,” Reeds turns his attention to Mika, “I see your name for yesterday, Mr. Arbuckle, and the rest of the week.” He says, tapping his name. Mika abruptly inhales and squeezes his book. “What’s your excuse?”
He hesitates, breathing heavily through his nose. He felt uncomfortable in this predicament, that much is clear, but there was a shallow glint in his eye that was difficult to make out. He blinks and it disappears.
“I…” He begins quietly but struggles to release the words. “I… I was resting.”
“Resting? That’s an unacceptable answer for missing my class.”
Mika lowers his eyes again and turns silent.
“Nothing more to say?”
He shakes his head.
“Very well.” Reeds says, sharply shutting the folder shut. “For punishment both of you will join me in my quarters, tonight at 8 o’clock sharp.”
“For what?” Nick asks as Reeds returns the folder to the drawer.
“For discipline, of course.” He sneers. “We can’t have you bending the rules, now, can we?” Nick opens his mouth, poised to argue his point but feels the time to leave draws near and decides otherwise. Reeds grins upon seeing this and counts it as a victory. “Now leave, I have more important tasks to attend.” He uses the back of his hand to wave them out before spinning around to face and stare at the screen. He retains his smirk as Nick and Mika turn and hurry towards the exit. “And Mr. Arbuckle, I want you in ten minutes earlier tomorrow.” He adds. “No excuses.”
Nick opens the door and exits with Mika following behind. The door closes with a click and the sound of locking mechanisms were heard as it locks itself. The corridor was almost empty, save for a few stragglers heading up and down and a group near the end. They stand there for a second. Nick glances down to Mika still looking at the ground. He decides to lighten the mood and converses with him.
“That guy’s a dick.” He quirkily says. Mika says nothing, still looking down. “You all right? You seem distressed.”
Upon hearing this question, Mika takes out his coin and flicks it. It once again lands perfectly in his palm and he stares at it. Nick watches too with interest. It shows the head of Princess Celestia. He quickly clasps his fingers around the coin to conceal it from view.
“I’m fine.” He says gently.
“What’s with the Bit, anyway?” Nick asks with intrigue.
The Bit, a universal form of current currency used in this time period. Made of gold, silver and bronze, each Bit is worth a different price independent to each country. Converted to American Dollars: 1 Gold Bit would be the equivalent of 1 Dollar, Silver Bits are equivalent to half a Dollar, and Bronze at 1/100th of a Dollar. For example, 50 Bronze Bits is 1 Silver Bit and 100 Bronze Bits can be 1 Gold Bit or 2 Silver Bits. 5 Gold Bits is 5 American Dollars in change and can be utilised if an American 5 Dollar note wasn’t on hand. A 5 Dollar note can be exchanged for 500 Bronze Bits or 50 Silver Bits.
Another interesting detail about the coins is the fact that each coin has a different design on both sides. Each metalled coin has the face of one of the three Princesses of America on the obverse, or head-side; Princess Celestia obviously being the face of the gold coin, while her younger sister, Princess Luna, owns the silver coin and the third princess, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, or Princess Cadence for short, is on the bronze coin. The opposite side varies on where in the world they were manufactured. In the Northern States, the reverse, tail-side, for every coin has a sun similar to that of Princess Celestia’s Cutie Mark which has been dubbed the Sun of Celestia.
Once again, Mika flicks the coin. It lands tail-side up showing the Sun of Celestia.
“Nothing.” He says quickly, dropping the coin back in his pocket. “It’s just a normal Bit. I gotta go.”
He grasps his book and marches away down the corridor, head hanging low. Nick watches as he pushes his way through a group and students, apologising to them and opens the doors at the end and disappears.
“Yeah, me too.” Nick quietly says. He turns and starts walking in the opposite direction from Mika. What was the next lesson again? Oh, that’s right, Advanced Drama. He remembers the corridor, but which number was it?
“O53.” Came a voice from behind him, making him jump.
“Sweet Danu, Jesse, I wish you’d stop doing that!” Nick says, placing a hand on his chest and exhaling.
She laughs. “It’s not my fault you’re a panicky pickle.”
“What?”
“O53.” She repeats, pointing down the corridor. “That way.”
“I know which direction it is.” He says sharply. He continues making his down the corridor and Jesse follows hovering behind.
“What’s up?” She says. “You seem a little annoyed.”
“I’ve just had a bollocking from Reeds.”
“Who?”
“My Symphonic English Teacher. He’s such a dick.”
She flies in front of him, floating backwards. “Want me to deal with him? Sort him out?” She mimes a boxing stance and starts throwing out fists in an erratic manner.
“You’ll do no such thing.” He says sharply. Jesse stops and hovers in place. Nick walks past her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.”
She hovers back over to him. “It’s okay.”
“What are you doing here anyway? I thought you’d be back upstairs.”
“What, and miss your hilarious attempt at performing theatre? Not a chance!”
“You’ll be disappointed.” He shows a smile.
He turns and opens the double doors and enters the N section of the building. As soon as he enters he’s greeted by two familiar faces loitering in the corridor.
“Hey, it’s Nicholas!” Tobias shouts, waving an arm. “How’s it going?”
He grins and gives a wave.
“Nick?” Sophie says, confused at the greeting. The hat atop her head now sparkling with dangling ribbons of various colour.
“You know, the one who stopped Twilight from hammering you?” He laughs.
“Oh, him!” She says, pointing to him as the pieces fall into place. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘stopped her…’?”
“How is Twilight by the way?” Tobias asks as Nick nears them.
As Nick answers, Jesse slowly hovers around them in circles, examining them both. “Twilight?” He repeats, searching his mind. “Oh, the unicorn. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her since my arrival.” Tobias nods. “And to answer your first question, pissed.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “Just had a bollocking from Reeds for not showing up yesterday, despite not being scheduled to. Thinks I’m some sort of ‘snob-cat’ or something.”
Sophie says, “Oh, yeah, Reeds can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”
“A bit?”
“Yeah, he can be much worse than giving out reprimands for B.S. reasons.”
Tobias says, “You would know.” He pokes her and adds to Nick, “She’s had more telling offs than the whole class put together.”
She tuts and swings at him with her hardback schoolbook. He tries to jump away from the attack but is struck on the shoulder.
“Oh? You’re studying music too?”
“She tries.” Tobias quips.
Sophie takes a swing at him again, to which he fully dodges. “I’m not kidding, Toby, lay off!” He laughs carefree as she says, “Yes, I do, but it’s not my main lesson. I’m actually studying agriculture. Tim says I have an aptitude for it.”
“Well, I’m actually late for my next lesson, that being my current one,” Nick says, walking off, “so you’ll have to tell me about it some other time. Later.” He shows a palm to signal farewell.
“Bye.”
“See ya.” Tobias says, before adding, “Now look what you’ve done, you’ve scared him off.” He runs off down the corridor in the opposite direction with Sophie chasing and shouting after him, swinging her book.
Nick grins as their playfulness drives them away. He continues down the corridor, through the doors at the end and into the O corridor. He heads down. Jesse floats to his side.
“What was that about Twilight?” She asks.
“Nothing, just a minor incident involving a stuck-up unicorn.”
“Is it…”
“Yep.” Nick answers before she even starts her question. “The same Twilight that Celestia took under her wing.”
“Ooh.”
“This is the room?”
He points at door O53. Jesse nods as an excited smile forms upon her face. He places his hand on the knob and twists. He opens the door wide and steps inside.
The room was a massive concert hall, capable of seating five thousand chairs, maybe more. The wooden floorboards were shiny in the bright light illuminated from the large tubular lights above. The stage up front was big enough to fit the full cast of Jerremy Baker’s production Barge on the Riverfront, which is almost two hundred people. The backwall was bare and plain save for two studio speakers on stands in either corner and two at the front before the stage.
As soon as he enters he hears an echoing voice reverberating throughout the empty hall accompanied by an ambience of string instruments.
“… to the surrounding fields of Janice. Where the once golden fields are bare and wasted, now…”
Nick looks over to find a large group of students, mostly human, sitting in a rough oval with hands and hooves connecting. Circling them slowly was a tall bodied person, dressed in colourful attire. They were listening intently at the words being spoken from the speaker with their eyes closed and breathing steady as if they were transcending into the dialogue’s plane. They vary in age but don’t seem to pass fourteen. They must be the youth performers and Nick wonders if he entered the wrong room.
The teacher notices him standing there with the door open and halts her movement. She holds a finger to her lips and beckons him to enter, waving her hand to the side before continuing to circle them. He silently closes the door, Jesse squeezes through the gap, and they sit cross-legged on the floor beside it, Jesse floating of course, and waits for the induction to end.
The session continues for another few minutes talking about a ‘time long passed’ and how the lack of animalia disrupts the natural order of land with the overgrowing of foliage before she stops the recording and brings her students back to reality.
“What did we all see?” She asks as they release hands. “What did we all feel?”
“A great sense of calm.” One of the older students answered.
“And warm.” Said another.
“I felt cold.”
“Why was that?” The teacher asks.
“I saw emptiness, like all life was taken away and nothing was left.”
“That must be your future.”
They laugh.
“It’s not funny!”
“Now, children, let’s not forget the reason for this session.” The teacher stands in the middle of the circle to address them all. “This exercise was to understand that different people experience different feelings when given the same direction. When I first heard the story, I felt a great sadness overcome me. I couldn’t explain why at the time. But now I know it was from deep regret.”
“What does any of this have to do with acting though?” Asks one of the students. She was not taking this as seriously as the others.
She answers with a smile as if she had been waiting for this specific question to be asked. “It allows you to know that each role of acting requires a specific skill to play. That you may or may not be the right candidate for the role. It’s not always about the physique of the actor, but can almost be the mindset. But,” she spins elegantly and strikes a pose, “those skills can be taught and acquired given the proper direction.”
“Obviously.” Came a murmur from the circle. What was ‘obvious’ was different for each student.
“Now I have another task for you. See there.” She spins around and points to a large chest-like trunk at the foot of the stage. “In that chest are costumes for each of you. Go and pick out your favourite and throw it on while I have a word with our visitor.”
Before she finishes her sentence, some of the students had stood up and were making their way over to the chest. Others glance over their shoulders to Nick, still sitting and watching carefully. He stands when the teacher graciously strides towards him and towers over him. His neck clicks as he strains to look into her face.
“You must be Mr. Galluver.” He nods. “Well, I’m glad you decided to show before the session’s end.”
“Sorry, I was…” He starts but she holds out a hand and he stops.
“I don’t want to hear it.” She tells him. “What happens between there and here stays between. I expect you to be on time next week. No shenanigans.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” He nods but can’t make an impromptu promise as it depends on the mood of Reeds. This class too is a weekly call.
“Now, as you may know, you’ve been assigned to my lesson to help with the production of the musical play I’m teaching the group.” Actually, he didn’t know. As far as Nick was concerned, he thought he was going to be acting alongside his fellow classmates. He had no idea that he had been assigned to help the teacher, of whom had yet to give her name. “Oh, excuse me, I’m afraid I got ahead of myself.” She says with a pat of her forehead, as if reading his thoughts. Her hand was tangled with many rings, sparkling gold adorned with jewels. Nick wonders how she can lift them with the amount she has. “My pupils call me Mistress LeQuil, but since you are neither student nor friend you can call me Quil and consider it an honour.”
“Yes, Ma’- uh, Mistress.” He stutters.
“Now, from what I’ve heard you’re good at making music, correct?” He nods again. “Well, you’ll oversee the production of the soundtrack. I have assigned for you a computer behind the curtain on stage.” Nick looks past her and spots a computer on a wooden desk peeking behind the curtain as if shy about being called. “It’s old, but should suffice.” She adds before she spins and attends to her class who are still fumbling around the chest.
“Well that’s disappointing.” Jesse says.
“I said you would be.” Nick grins. “Now if you don’t mind, I have art to create.” He walks to the stage and up the stairs at the side.
“But I wanted to see you act!”
He examines the computer at the desk with a copy of the script of the musical at the side. His jaw drops as he realises the computer was of ancient make. “What a piece of junk!” He says aloud. Quil gives him a glance. He switches it on and the screen shows a bouncing beach ball as it loads the home screen which takes a few minutes. “Old, my beard. How am I supposed to work with this?”
Jesse hovers over his shoulder and bursts into laughter at the sight of the screen. “Hah, not so cocky now, are you? I’ll leave you to it.” She sinks away, laughing as she phases through the floor and presumably back to their room.
Finally, the screen switches from loading to the minimalistic home screen. He leans over, grabbing the wired mouse, and fiddles with it trying to open the music maker application ‘Tired Eyes’, which isn’t the best and takes a millennium to load. He sits on the chair waiting for the software to start.
As he stares at the screen, he’s approached by a filly but doesn’t notice her until she greets him. “Hi.” She says with a squeak. He looks down to meet her large green eyes.
“Hey, there, little filly.” He returns her greeting with a smile. “What can I do for you?” He recognises her as one of the fillies being shown around by Miss Cheerilee a few days ago, called Sweetie Belle. He also notices her rear end is bare; she has yet to find her special talent and thus hasn’t earned her Cutie Mark.
“Mistress LeQuil told me to give you this.” She holds out a yellow costume draped around her hoof. He takes it from her and holds it in front of him.
“You’ve got to be kidding.” He says, examining the suit. “I’m not even part of the play.” He throws it onto the table over the script and leaves it there.
“You’re not?” Her head tilts. “Why are you here then?”
He tells her Quil explained to him that he’s helping out with the soundtrack. “It’s not a challenge by any means but I guess it’ll keep me busy. For an hour a week.” There was a pause. She looks away and glances around the hall. “Have you been here long?”
She shakes her head. “Only a week. Moved in with my sister. She’s an apprentice seamstress, you know, though says she’s ready to graduate and be professional.”
“A seamstress apprentice, you say?” Nick repeats, the little gears in his head churning. “I met unicorn the day I met you with the same title. Your sister wouldn’t happen to be Rarity, would it?”
“I knew you looked familiar! Yes, Rarity’s my sister.”
With Rarity as the conversation’s leverage, the two of them perform an act of friendly banter for a few minutes. They got to know each other on a friendly level. It wasn’t until Quil called Sweetie Belle to join the rest of her class that she leaves Nick to his work. He turns his attention back to the screen and to Tired Eyes that to his surprise was STILL loading. He tilts his head back and sighs. He glances to his costume and places a hand on it.
“Guess I should see if it fits…”