• Published 25th Nov 2015
  • 1,174 Views, 35 Comments

The Four Seasons for Quintet - CrackedInkWell



Taken place a year after the events of the last Mr. Disc story, a new music teacher comes to CHS. This is a story based around Harmonic Trotivari and four of his students.

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Spring: 1st Movement.

Author's Note:

Just to be clear: this is currently unedited; this story is not about Mr.Disc but it does take place in the same universe; and it contains both F\F and M\M shipping. If you do not like one or a combination of those, you know where the exit button is.

Also, this is a kind of crossover of two of my series, the Harmonic series, and the Mr. Disk series.

Turning off the engine of his car, the new Orchestra Teacher looked up at the High School before him in its early hours. In a way, returning to teaching students at this school has bought bittersweet memories. Considering all that has happened, he almost didn’t want to come back. The death of his spouse was hard enough, and his family tried their best to comfort the Violinist, but he wasn’t sure if this was the proper motivation.

Sighing, he looked at his reflection to move a stray trace of black hair that had four thin streaks of gray. Even though he knew it was a sign of getting old, he thought that it was fitting as a musician that it looked like strings on a black fingerboard. His amber hands with spider-like fingers opened the door, walked out to get his violin case out of the trunk and school papers for the upcoming classes.

Since it was still early in the day and the air was chilly despite being March, his brown overcoat and his old black-and-white scarf did keep him warm as he walked up to the front doors of Canterlot High. The teacher paused for a moment in his reflection to adjust the black pin of a violin “f” hole before opening the glass doors.

Looking at the clock as he entered, he was still too early for any of the students to be here since it was six o’clock in the morning. So the first place he went was towards the teacher’s lounge to see if anyone was in there. However, all he found were chairs, tables, and a coffee machine which he happily took advantage of.

Fifteen minutes of sipping a cup of the bitter liquid later, the door opened to a very surprised Art Teacher. Even though Harmonic’s mood refused to show it, he was slightly surprised to see the older man who had gray skin, yellow and red eyes, an uncombed black hair with snow-white eyebrows and goatee on his face.

“H… Harmonic?” the older man in the mitch-mashed coat asked. “Harmonic Trotivari? What are you doing here?” He closed the door behind him, “I thought you retired.”

“Good morning to you too, Mr. Disc,” Harmonic deadpanned before returning to his coffee, “Celestia had insisted that I come back.”

“She did? How come?”

The Violinist raised an eyebrow, watching him walk over to the coffee machine, “You mean you haven’t heard what happened a few months back?”

Mr. Disc chuckled when the machine slowly dripped the hot liquid into his #1 Ex-Villain mug, “With all that has happened in the past year involving me, I haven’t made the habit of keeping track of retired teachers lately. But in all honesty, I don’t know what made you come back.”

“Well, do you remember Color Spectrum?”

He shrugged, “More or less, wasn’t he your best friend or something?”

“Husband,” the Music Teacher corrected him.

This gotten his co-worker’s eyes to widen, “Husband? Wait-a-month! Harmonic, I didn’t know you’re-”

“Yep,” Harmonic interrupted. “I was happily married.”

Mr. Disc gave a puzzling look, “Was? What does that mean?”

Avoiding eye contact, the Violinist muttered in his mug, “He passed away two months ago.”

“Oh… Harmonic, I’m so sorry about that.”

He shook his head, “You had nothing to do with it. So, after a two-month long depression, Ms. Boss called me up and said that, if I wanted, I could come back here to teach music again. Besides, even Script pressured me into this because, as he puts it that I’ve, ‘Hardly been out of the house and never been doing anything productive, and even giving up on tours altogether.’”

“And I’m guessing that Ms. Sunbutt is trying to get you back into reality?”

“Something like that I suppose,” Harmonic paused for a moment before realizing, “Hang on, I thought you already knew about my sexuality have you?”

“With me in a loony bin and juggling what’s been going on last year… Let’s just say that I’ve been hiding beneath a concrete bunker. Oh! But have you heard the news of what I can do here?”

Confused, the Orchestra teacher shook his head, “Sorry, with all that I’ve been doing, I haven’t got the time or the motivation to pay attention to the news lately. Except for something about a new country being discovered and flying kids… not much. Why?”

Grinning, Mr. Disc told him to, “Watch this,” as he grabbed his filled mug before letting go. The porcelain cup not only didn’t shatter when it hit the tiles, but the coffee didn’t spill out. But the even bigger surprise was that the mug rises on its own and levitated before the Surrealist Art Teacher, “Pretty cool huh?”

“Wha… how?”

Julius Disc deadpanned, “Wow, you weren’t kidding about you being out of touch? People already know I can do this for over a year now.”

“Hey, I was touring at the time,” Harmonic protested, “Don’t get me wrong, I’ve kinda heard about this sort of magic stuff before, it’s that there’s a difference between hearing about this and actually seeing it. Heck, I didn’t have time to watch the news while practicing the Violin, playing in concert halls and taking care of…”

Sighing, the elder man snapped his fingers for a bottle of hot sauce, maple syrup, a chicken drumstick, and a piece of a hard butterscotch candy to drop into the mug, “Okay, that I can buy, you were way too busy to notice what’s been going on with you on tour. Just the same how I didn’t know you swing that way. And before you ask, no, I don’t really care because I know a student here at CHS that’s a Lesbian.”

“Oh… Thanks, I guess…” Harmonic trailed off, unable to take his eyes off the other teacher’s floating cup, “Could you put a hand under it? I’m sorry but it’s kinda unnerving when it’s floating like that.”

Rolling his eyes, the teacher with the hodge-podge coat grabbed the cup. Mr. Disc took one sip of his coffee before spitting it in a sink, “Note to self, lay off the drumstick.”

Harmonic stepped back, “Okay then… By-the-way, you haven’t seen Ms. Sunsine lately, have you?”

The Art teacher looked at the clock, “She should be here any second now.”

As if on cue, the door opened to reveal Principal Celestia. She smiled warmly, “Harmonic dear, welcome back to the team.” Harmonic just simply nodded, taking a sip from his coffee, “So, are you both ready for the new trimester?”

“I hope so,” the Orchestra teacher commented, “It’s been a while that I’ve done this.”

“Oh there’s no need to worry,” she said, “From what I’ve heard, our students are quite easy to work with, and I think you’ll fit in just fine.”

“She’s right,” Mr. Disc said, throwing away the coffee soaked drumstick, “This school is undergoing a kind of rebirth in the arts, with grades going up and all that. Besides, luckily for you, many are taking an interest in music, like how my students are practically lining around the block to be in my classroom.”

“That’s because you’re the one who can do weird magic tricks,” Celestia pointed out.

“Which reminds me,” Julius bumped his elbow against Harmonic, “We have new rules for some of the students here.”

“What rules?”

“I assume you’ve heard about some of our students learning their… magical abilities, have you?” Harmonic shrugged, “Anyway, Luna and I have installed new rules such as no flying in the halls, no using magic while taking tests, or be careful of using your strength while on school grounds. Oh, and gave you teachers some room in whether or not to allow students to use their magic during class hours.”

The Orchestra Teacher sides stepped, “Um. Okay then… I’ll keep that in mind. But for now,” he said while downing the last bit from his mug, “I think I should get to my class.” He started to grab his school papers and his violin coffin case when Celestia stopped him.

“Harmonic, look, I do appreciate you coming back to the school, especially after what happened in January. If there’s anything you need to-”

“Boss,” the Violinist cut her off as he went around her, “I really need to get to my students now.”

He left the Lounge before she could finish what he was sick of hearing. The old, “Oh everything’s going to be fine,” or “You’ll get over it soon enough,” or “Always keep Color in your Heart,” and all the other cold cliché’s that he’s sick of hearing. This wasn’t needed, especially this early in the day where he was returning to his old job.

Even though that he got a different classroom this time, Room 108 was much more spacious than his old one. There were four high-rises, platforms that were covered in the same ugly linoleum carpet. On these levels were rows of chairs and music stands with the covered up processions in the back. In front of those platforms were a tinny desk, a wooden stool, and a blank chalkboard. And above that was the clock that showed that it was almost seven.

So placing his violin case on the desk and sitting on the hard stool, he looked over his schedule and the names of students in each class of the day. Along with the musical scores for these orchestras to study, by now he started to have second thoughts.

But soon, students started to trickle in, taking a seat among the high-rises. Some of them already had brought their instruments while most did not.

Once the bell rang for the first hour to begin, Harmonic cleared his throat to silence the students small talk, “Good morning everybody. Welcome to Orchestra 102, I’m Harmonic Trotivari. But I wouldn’t mind if you called me Mr. H, I’ll be your teacher for this final trimester.”

A hand was raisin, “Wait, you’re Harmonic Trotivari? As in that violin guy that just quit out of the blue?”

He sighed, “Yep, the very same. Although, I preferred to be called a ‘Violinist,’ and yes, I did quit my job as a concert Violinist across the country. You might say that I’ve forced myself into retirement.”

Another hand was raised, “If you’re retired, why are you here?”

“Well… Let’s just say that I’m going through some hard times and I needed something from locking myself away completely. A sort of hobby that’s constructive. So even in my retirement, I chose to do this because even with all the money I’ve made, at least I would be doing something to give what I know back. But anyway,” he started to pass out the syllabus out, “In this class, you are required only three things. The first is that you need an instrument, and to make sure you bring that said instrument with you to class since its part of your grade. The second is that you are all required to practice a classical piece, as well as an arrangement of a recent song. The third is that all of you must vote on what music that all of you will be committed to playing in this class. In other words, bring your instrument, and vote on one classical piece and a pop song, both of which I’ve listed on the syllabus.

“Today, we will only be introducing ourselves, and talk about music for a bit. However, starting tomorrow, you are expected to be here with your instrument, and I’ll provide the music sheets for you. Any questions?”

A student raised her hand and asked, “Can we use magic in this class?”

The teacher blinked, “Huh?”

“I’m asking because some of the teachers allow us to use it for our studies, so what’s your policy here?”

“Uh… I don’t think we’ll be using it here,” there was a collective grunt from the students, so shaking off from such a strange question, he continued, “Any other questions?”

“Where do we get the instruments if we don’t own any?”

“If I remember right, this school has a music department where there’s a room full of instruments to rent, which you should get your money back by the end of the trimester if you return it in good condition.”

Once all the questions were answered and Harmonic had everyone introduce themselves and what they play, he was pleased to hear that not only everyone in the room has some experience, but a few know how to play more than one instrument.

“Okay, now comes the important part of the class, we need to vote on what we’re going to play, just like how any other orchestra operates. Keep in mind, I’ve chosen each and every one of these carefully. All of them are a bit challenging but I think these will be something to expand your previous experiences. So, let’s start with the classical pieces. Those for Bach?” No hands were raised, “Handel?” same response, “Mozart?” But no one dared vote. “Not even Beethoven?”

But his class was still.

“Come on, you guys get the first pick. And these are really good ones here… No one?” A blue hand in the back raised his hand, “Yes… Soarin Cloudline, isn’t it?” he nodded, “You have a comment or a question?”

“Actually sir, I think the reason why nobody’s raising their hands is that I don’t think we know anything about these guys.”

The Orchestra Teacher sighed and went over to his violin case, “Why am I not surprised,” he muttered as he unlatched his coffin case. “Believe it or not, all of you have indeed have heard a few melodies from these composers before.”

Taking out his violin and tightening up his bow, he placed the instrument underneath his chin, “For example, have any of you ever heard of this tune?” With his bow, he started to strike up a tune from Mozart’s Night Music.

“Hey, I’ve heard that before,” a mint green teen said.

“For where… Lyra Heartstrings, isn’t it?” he asked as he continued to play.

She nodded, “On T.V. in the background where it shows some fancy restaurant.”

Harmonic stopped playing, “Okay, how about this?” the Violinist suddenly changed the tune to Vivaldi’s spring.

“I’ve heard that before,” the girl sitting next to Lyra piped up.

“Okay, what’s your name again?”

“Sweetie Drops, but Bon Bon is fine.”

“And where have you heard it?”

“It was some commercial, I think it was soap add or something.”

Once again, Mr. H stopped playing, “Okay, now here’s a tricky one,” then the Violinist started to play notes that went from the low notes on the low string to scaling up to the higher notes on the fingerboard and back again. He did this five times before his bow set aflame of notes that swarmed in the Orchestra room like bees, leaving his students gawking at this impossibly to face paced melody. His spider-like fingers were almost a blur as far as those on looking teenagers could see. He finished this storm of a melody with doing the high and low scales as he did in the beginning.

“How did you do that?” one of his students asked.

The Orchestra Teacher chuckled, “Years of dispensary practice. So, can anyone in this room guess who wrote that?”

For a moment, no one moved, Harmonic was about to give the answer when a lone yellow hand was raised with uncertainty.

“Um… Braeburn Apple, is it?”

He nodded, “Ah’ve heard it once befor’ sir. But Ah can’t say if Ah gets the name right. Was it, Pad… Pan… Pago…”

“Paganini.”

“Yeah!” the student with flaming orange hair exclaimed, “That’s it. Ah,’ve think Ah saw it somewhere on YouTube.”

“Alright,” Harmonic sat his violin back in its case, “did you like it?”

“Replace it with an electric guitar and you’ve got a one really cool solo,” Soarin commented, and the other students around the room agreed.

“Yes, I can see that,” the teacher nodded. “The point here is that most of the music I’ve given you to choose from, you have heard it before somewhere. In fact, a lot of them are quite fun to play too once you got all the notes down.”

A had was raised, “Do you have a favorite?”

“I do, the First Movement of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Violin Concerto.”

“Why not we do that?” Bon Bon asked.

“Are you sure about it,” Harmonic inquired, “It is a bit challenging since it goes from one key to the next, and there are rhythms that switch frequently. However, I wouldn’t have put it on the syllabus if I didn’t think you could do it. So is that what you want to do?”

Many shrugged but said that they would give it a try.

“Very well, but what about the next song?”

_*_

“So,” Lyra sat her tray down on one of the cafeteria tables, “How do you like your teachers?”

Bon Bon placed her tray next to her before she sat down, “I think I have a good feeling with this trimester – although, I’m kinda disappointed about getting Ms. Spitfire for P.E. in third hour.”

“Look on the bright side,” the mint girl opened up her cup of fruit cocktail, “At least we get to be in a few classes where we’re together.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Bon Bon pulled her long blue and pink hair out of the way. “Orchestra’s going to be interesting, and at least you’ll have your own personal tutor in algebra.”

“Tell me about it, I’m glad I know someone who knows how to translate whatever the teacher is saying into plain English.”

“It’s not as hard as you think,” Sweetie Drops opened her milk carton, “You just need to get some of the rules down, you know? Just don’t worry all too much; I think you’ll do fine.”

“Speaking of doing fine, what’s your take on the new music teacher?”

“Mr. H? I don’t know to be honest. He seems like a nice guy, he kinda seemed to come off as… how do I say this?”

“Kinda cold?”

“A little I guess,” Bon Bon shrugged, “Maybe he’s just new here and all. Perhaps he’ll warm up a bit.”

“What instrument do are you going to play in that class?”

“Hmm… I’m still thinking. For both of the pieces we’re gonna play, they don’t have a piano, and you’ve put dibs on the harp.”

“So you haven’t figured out yet?” Lyra inquired as she scooped up some of the fake mash potatoes.

Bon Bon sighed, “The only thing I could think of is dusting the old horn, except I haven’t even used it since Elementary School.”

“I remember that, especially when your cheeks would puff out like chipmunk stuff its mouth full of acorns.” Lyra laughed at the memory while Sweetie Drops only smiled.

“Yeah, I kinda hated it as a kid. But I guess I could dust it off and see if that thing is any more tolerable now.”

“Who knows, maybe it’ll click with ya this time. Besides, I’m kinda looking forward to playing the harp myself. It’s kinda just a bigger version of the lyre anyway, right?”

“I wouldn’t know. I never played either of those.”

The two of them ate up some of what the school calls “food” for a few minutes. Trying to chew through and swallow through some of what the school district board insists that is “notorious.” However, the silence didn’t last long when Bon Bon spoke up.

“Why do you think Mr. H retired?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“For one, the guy looks like he’s in his thirties or forties right? And someone said that he was a concert Violinist too, so why to give that up for teaching?”

“That’s… actually a good question,” Lyra put down her plastic fork and reaches into her pocket for her cell phone. After taping on the screen for the internet, she typed their new teacher’s name and hit search. Immediately, a few articles come up. She narrowed her search down to recent news, “Oh…” Lyra began to read through the news article that was a couple months old.

“Well? What did you find?”

The mint girl didn’t say anything but handed her phone over to Sweetie Drops.

“Death of Spouse Forces Violinist into Early Retirement,” she read. “Both the Art and Music world has experienced a tragedy when Color Spectrum Trotivari had passed away (age 38), sending his husband, Harmonic Trotivari, into a deep depression. Since the funeral, Harmonic had ceased all future tours. Both he and his family had declined for comment.

“The Painter’s health was under wraps for several months before he passed away 2:14 p.m. on January 9th. The exact cause of death is currently unknown, but colleges noted that he was coughing up blood days several days before.

“Rumor has it that he was working on their family portrait, but since it was left unfinished, Harmonic had hidden it away from public view.” At this point, Bon Bon stopped reading.

“First off, man that sucks,” Lyra commented. “And two, did that article just say that Mr. H had a husband?”

“In other words, our teacher’s gay,” she gave Lyra back her phone, “Huh, that’s new.”

“Do you think we should do something?”

“Like what? He’s probably having enough of a hard time as it is.”

“Yeah, but remember your Uncle Liquorish,” the mint student pointed out, “and how bummed out you were for a while?”

Bon Bon nodded with a frown, “I do.”

“And how that you were so sad all the time to the point you wouldn’t want to hang out with anyone, not even me?” Lyra put an arm around her shoulder and added, “You got so depressed that you didn’t even bother to respond to my texts, or my emails no less?”

“Where are you getting at?”

“The point here is that even though you hated the idea of being around anyone when you’re in your ‘woe is me’ mood, you needed someone to be by your side.”

“But what do you suggest we do? Bring him a batch of brownies to class?”

“No, tempting but no – I’m thinking that we need to figure out how to cheer Mr. H up by convincing that it isn’t the end of the world for him.”

“That might be hard to pull off since the guy is like two or three times older than us.”

“Hey, sadness is still sadness, no matter how old you are. Besides, worst case scenario is that he gets a restraining order for us.”

“And what’s the best case scenario?”

“That he’ll thank us personally with high grades and a couple of diamond earrings.”

Bon Bon looked over to her, “You’re awful.”

She smiled, “I know.”

“Come on, let’s finish lunch real quick. The bell’s gonna ring soon.”

Once they downed their lunches, and Lyra help levitates the trash into a nearby can, the two girls grabbed their text and notebooks and started to go their separate ways.

“Oh, hey Bonnie,” the green girl stopped her, “I nearly forgot,” after giving Sweetie Drops a quick kiss on the cheek, she moved down the hall of lockers. “See ya later.”

_*_

“How are your teachers?” the blue athlete asked, turning around in his seat on the bus.

“Fine Ah suppose,” Braeburn replied, looking at the window at the passing yards of green grass and sprouting flowers, “What ya think of the new teacher in first ‘our?”

“Other than the guy can play a mean violin? I guess he’s alright.”

The Apple Farmer nodded, “Did ya say that yer gonna sign up for playin’ the drums?”

“And got it?” he grinned, “Yeah, I think it’s gonna be kinda cool to do something like that, playing the drums and all that.”

“Ah admit, Ah’m a bit nervous myself since Ah only play the fiddle a bit.”

“You think you’re going to do okay in Mr. H’s class?”

Braeburn shrugged, “Maybe. The only thin’ classical Ah’ve done was playin’ Ode ta Joy, not sure about this though.”

“C’mon buddy, I think you’ll do great.”

The yellow cowboy turned to him with an eyebrow raised, “Have ya ever heard me play?”

“A little, sometimes when I go over to your place to hang out, I at times hear some violin music coming from your room.”

“Oh…” Braeburn looked down in embarrassment, “Am Ah that bad?”

“Nah dude, from what bit and pieces I’ve heard, you sounded great.”

His friend didn’t reply other than hid his face from his wide brim hat.

“Say,” Soarin said, trying to start up another conversation, “Do ya remember last year, when we’ve met our doubles?”

“Ah remember. Even got the chance ta talk to me too. Why’d you ask?”

“Do you think that Mr. H has a double in the pony world?” this got his friend’s attention and he asked what he meant. “Think about it, from what we know, everyone in town has some twin living in that world, right? So who’s to say that the new guy doesn’t have a double too? If so, what do you think that Mr. H is like? Is he like a Pegasus like mine, or an Earth Pony like yours, Unicorn or what?”

“Ah wouldn’t know, haven’t got the chance ta speak with mah other self, or even send him a letter. Speakin’ of double’s, what has yers been doin’ lately?”

“Kinda what I’ve been doing now,” the athlete folded his arms around the back of his head. “He’s been showing off his moves like I’ve been doing with the team. That and tells me to practice my flying, it might come in handy sometime.”

“Have ya?”

“Eh, only in the back yard, and low to the ground. Mom still isn’t used to me sprouting my wings now and then, even though my double has taught me how.”

“That Ah can relate, Pa’s not sure if he trusts my new kickin’ ability to make all the apples from the tree fall in one go. Although, with cousin AJ, Mac, and lil’ AB have been usin’ it ta cut the time durin’ Cider Season.”

“I can imagine, but too bad for us that we’re not allowed to use magic in our sports, I just think us flyin’ would make things more interesting.”

Braeburn chuckled, “Yeah, Ah can picture it now. Your team jus’ passin’ the ball in the air while the other team is jumpin’ to reach ya like kiddies tryin’ ta reach a cookie on a high cabinet.”

The two of them laughed for a bit at the whole idea of it all when Soarin said, “Mind if I change the subject a bit?”

“Sure.”

“So…” he said slyly, “You know Fleetfoot?”

“Kinda, ain’t she on the Wondercolts?”

“Yeah,” Sorain Cloudview grinned, “I just asked her out on a date on Saturday.” Braeburn’s smile dropped, “She said yes since she dumped her boyfriend a while ago and said that she would give me a chance and…” from this point, the cowboy put on the mask of contempt and gazed out the window. He wasn’t paying attention now. Why would he? Knowing Soarin, he’s just going to blabber on how Lady X is the best thing since bottled cider and apple pie. Yet, when he speaks so highly of someone else but him, the Apple Farmer couldn’t help but feel completely alone on that moving bus. As if any possibility that-

“So what about you?”

“Wha?” Braeburn snapped out of his thoughts.

Soarin rolled his eyes, “I said what about you? Got an eye on someone?”

“Uh…” now the yellow student looked away.

His friend grinned, “C’mon Brae, you can tell me. You did come out to me last year didn’t ya?”

“W-Well... it ain’t important.”

“Don’t give me that dude, who’s the guy anyway?”

“Soar, Ah haven’t asked anyone out.”

“Why not?”

“Because… Ah just don’t know.” His friend raised an eyebrow, but Braeburn shook his head, “It jus’ ain’t easy fer me.”

“To what? Ask the guy out?”

“Tell me somethin’ Soar,” he pointed at him, “Except fer me, name right now any guy you know that’s either gay or bi.”

“Easy, there’s… uh…” Soarin’s mind went completely blank. He tried to call back every student’s name that was a guy, but as soon as he did so, he couldn’t filter down any of them that weren’t straight.

“Ah rest mah case,” Braeburn slumped back in his seat.

“C’mon man, don’t be like that; I’m sure there’s somebody out there for ya.”

The farmer stayed silent.

“Look, what do you want me to say?”

“…. Ah… Ah, don’t know.”

Then, the athlete realized something, “Hang on… you do have an eye on someone already, do you?”

Braeburn hesitated, “Maybe,” he said softly.

“Maybe what?”

His friend snorted, “Well… maybe Ah has a bit of a crush on someone, but knows that they won’t like me in the same way.”

“But how’d you know?”

“Because… he goes out with other girls, isn’t that a dead give-a-way?”

“Why not try asking?” his friend looked up, “I can’t say that it would be easy, but I guess you wouldn’t really know unless you just give it a shot.”

“And if he says no?”

“Then he says no, but you wouldn’t know until you try dude,” the bus stopped, to which Soarin puts on his backpack. “See ya Brea, and think about what I’ve said.”

The blue athlete started to make his way down the middle of the bus when from behind, his friend called out, “Soarin!”

He turned around, “Hm?”

Braeburn opened his mouth, but he hesitated for a moment before he settled on smiling, “See ya tomorrow.”

Soarin waved, “You too man.” And with that, the blue athlete left off the bus.

Once the wheels started rolling and his friend was out of sight, the Apple Farmer took off his hat and banged his head against the seat, ‘Why?’ he thought to himself, ‘Of all the people that Ah could fall head over heels with, why him? Why Soarin?’