The Four Seasons for Quintet

by CrackedInkWell

Spring, 3rd Movement.

It had been raining all that afternoon and into the evening on that day in May. The clouds drifted over the town in their swirling shades of white, gray and dull black. Every so often, a distant clap of thunder broke the meditative gloomy sky while rain soaked the rooftops, grass, and streets.

But in this dreary atmosphere, inside the home were filled with light and warmth. In one of these houses, a mint student was growing weary from reading from her textbook. Taking her eyes off of it and rubbing it, she heard a ring coming from her nightstand. She went over to her bed and unplugged the charger to see what it was.

It was a text from Bon Bon.

After tapping in a few places, she read the message: ‘Hey, how are ya?’

She texted back, ‘Worn out. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and then got ran over by a train.’

A moment later, she got a reply, ‘Yeah. I need a break too.’

‘I guess you’re ready for summer too, huh?’

‘Oh yeah. I’m not sure if I could take any more of this.’

‘Hey, don’t worry, just one more month and we’ll be free from homework to enjoy the sun.’

A minute later, her cell rang, ‘I can’t wait. I just want to get the finals over with. I just hope that I could still pass my classes.’

‘Hey, you’ll do fine. Trust me. :-)’

‘I hope so. Do u think you’re ready for the concert thing for Orchestra on the last day of school?’

Lyra thought for a moment before she texted back, ‘I think I’ll be okay. After all, there’s no harp for the Classical piece.’

‘Well, you’re lucky! I have to play the old horn for both, and I’m not sure if I’m ready.’

‘Aw, come on, you’re not that bad.’

‘Really?’

‘I’m not lying. You’re getting better each time we practice together.’

‘Thanks.’

‘No prob. In truth, I’m kinda nervous myself.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yeah, I’m doing my best in Orchestra, but doesn’t it seem that Mr. H is too much of a perfectionist?’

There was a pause from the other end before Bon Bon responded, ‘I don’t blame you, it’s kinda the reason why I’m nervous too about the big concert.’

‘Okay, now I can see why. But 2 be fair, he’s not exactly demanding. He just points out what we need to work on.’

‘True. And we didn’t get into much trouble when he found out who was putting all that candy on his desk and why.’

Lyra frowned, ‘I know, but I still think it isn’t right that he should still go through this alone. So do u think that we might be going at this the wrong way?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Anyway, I need to get back to my homework.’

‘Okay, see you later sweetie.’

Lyra smiled as she texted, ‘U too,’ and returned to her textbook on her desk.

_*_

The young Cloudline was rocking his head back and forth to the music that bled through his earphones. Lying on his bed with one leg crossed over and both of his arms rested on his head, he was captivated in his favorite music. Then, from his pants pocket, he felt his phone vibrate once. Reaching into his jeans, he pulled out his cell, turning it on to find a text from Braeburn.

He opened it up to read: ‘Hey, U busy?’

Soarin started to use the tiny keyboard and wrote, ‘Nope, just listening to music. What’s up?’

A minute later, his friend replied, ‘I just feel horrible.’

This got the blue Wondercolt to raise an eyebrow, ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t think I’ve been a good friend to ya lately.’

‘Well, u have been avoiding me a lot.’

‘Yeah, sorry about that, it’s just I have a lot on my mind.’

‘Anything serious?’

There was a long pause as the cowboy didn’t respond back. He was about to press further when his phone lit up, ‘Not really. I guess I’ve kinda felt that I’ve been left out.’

Now Soarin was curious, ‘Felling left out? Buddy, what’s this about?’

‘Fleetfoot.’

Now it started to make sense, Soarin chuckled, ‘Aw c’mon man, just because I’m seeing her, doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about u. You’re still my friend no matter what. I’m not gonna let a girl get in between us dude.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah man.’

‘Well, there’s something else too. Tell me, how are you two really?’

‘We’re doing good. I don’t know if it’s gonna be serious this time, but I have my fingers crossed.’

‘I’m worried about u getting dumped again.’

Soarin rolled his eyes, ‘Really? That’s what you’ve been avoiding me over? In case I get dumped? Dude, you don’t have to worry about my problems. Fleet and I are doing good.’

‘What have you two been doing?’

‘Nothing much, going to movies, having lunch, telling jokes, all that. Not to the point where we call ourselves girl/boyfriend, but I think we’re getting close.’ For a solid five minutes, there was nothing on the other end, so Soarin, out of concern texted, ‘Hello?’

‘Does she make you happy?’

‘Yeah. I think so.’

‘K. Just promise me that you’ll be careful. I don’t want u to get all depressed again.’

Soarin smirked, ‘Of course I’m careful. Don’t worry so much dude, I know what I’m doing.’

‘If you say so… Soarin, can we still hang out? I still feel bad for avoiding ya.’

‘Of course man! How about tomorrow?’

‘Sure. What do ya want to do?’

Soarin thought for a moment, ‘How about we eat out somewhere, grab something to eat for lunch?’

‘Being Saturday, I still have a few chores to do. But if I get up early to do them, I bet I’ll be free by noon.’

‘Cool! It’ll be great to talk to ya again.’

‘U too. In a way, I’ve been kinda missing ya from not talking with ya.’

‘Same. I was worried for a while that I’ve made you angry at me for some reason.’

‘Soar, I can’t ever get mad at ya if u tried.’

The athlete chuckled, ‘Lol. Welp, see ya tomorrow dude.’

‘K. See ya.’

With a sigh of relief, he turned up the music, knowing that all is well with the universe.

_*_

“You know,” Harmonic said, “It’s not every day that I would get people over for dinner.” He carried the bowl of soup from the kitchen into the tiny dining room. Serving from a porcelain bowl that he had to dust and wash since he hadn’t used it for so long because of his two guests that had called ahead.

“That’s quite alright,” Celestia said politely, placing the napkin on her lap.

“It isn’t every day that my sister and I would eat at one of our fellow faculties’ homes either,” Luna commented, “We understand completely.”

“So remind me again why you suddenly decided to drop by?” Harmonic asked as he placed the bowl on the table before taking his seat.

“We just wanted to check up on you,” Principal Celestia told him, “to see how your classes are treating you and if you still wanted to continue in the fall.”

“And to inquire if you’re planning anything for summer,” Luna added.

The Violinist scoots his chair forward, “As I’ve said, I don’t have any plans on going on tour again. The teaching position has kept me occupied, and many of the students aren’t that bad to deal with.”

“So I take it that we’ll expect you for the next school year?” her alabaster boss questioned as she grabbed one of the rolls.

Harmonic shrugged, “I guess I can go for another year, but yes, I’ll still be teaching.”

Luna nodded as she passed the salad to him, “I see. But what about summer break? It’s around the corner after all, what are you going to do?”

“Yes, are you planning on a vacation?” Celestia asked as she scoops up the potato soup with the ladle.

“To be honest, I haven’t given much thought about spending some time away from this town. After all, with me hopping from city to city, sometimes country to country so that people could hear me play, you tend to miss home. So while it’s unlikely I’ll be going anywhere, I think I’ve thought up of something to keep me busy.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

Once his boss was done with the ladle, he took it to fill his own bowl, “I’m wondering if I should start doing some privet music lessons for students that want to improve their skills on their instruments. Only, I’m not sure how much to charge them for how long, nor am I sure if it’s okay with either of you.”

“Technically speaking,” Luna pointed out, “You’re fine doing this if it’s outside of school grounds, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their study time. If you’re doing this privet, then yes, you can charge them however much you want.”

“Luna does have a point,” Celestia said, “Where are you planning to do these lessons?”

Harmonic shrugged, “Probably in my living room,” he pointed to the room behind to where the shiny black piano was. “Although, I’m going to need to know first off whom among my students even want to take these lessons from me.”

Both sisters nodded.

“And speaking of lessons,” Luna piped up, “What about your upcoming recital? Do you think that you’re students are prepared for it?”

“The good news is, they have improved quite a bit. But really, I think every one is getting tired and looking forward to having no school for the next three months.”

Both the principal and vice principal laughed, “I don’t blame them,” Celestia giggled, “Even for us, we just want to see something other than mountains of paperwork.”

“Tell me about it,” Luna smiled, “I’m just looking forward toward our big vacation in July.”

“May I ask where you’ll be going?” Harmonic inquired as he and his two bosses started to dig in.

“Equestria,” she said, “Although, thanks to all the chaos that has happened last year, we did go there with our mother last year. However, we’re planning to do something a little different this time.”

“Wait-a-sec, you two actually went there?”

They nodded, “We have some special connections since the portal is latterly on school grounds,” Celestia said. “Even with all of this international stuff that mother had to deal with, the Equestrians were more than welcome, if not curious to see what we were like. And I guess that goes the same with everyone. Oh! I guess I nearly forgotten to ask, have you come in contact with your counterpart?”

This got Harmonic to pause, “Pardon?”

“Well, from what news we get from the other side, there really is another you, only, a pony.”

“I’m guessing that he too had experienced a loss as well?”

Both principals paused for a moment before Celestia continued, “Well… yes but-”

“Then I don’t want to meet him,” he said, “If he really is anything like me, I don’t think even he would be in the mood of being introduced to an interdimensional twin. Besides, the whole idea of meeting yourself is just… weird to me. Besides, I’m comfortable being here at the moment, and I’m planning to make sure it stays that way.”

His bosses looked at each other before returning their gaze at the Orchestra Teacher, “Alright,” Luna stated, “We were just curious is all. If you want, we can talk about something else.”

Harmonic nodded, “Thanks. So are you two going to come to the recital on the week that school gets out?”

“Unfortunately no,” the vice-principal said, “We have to do this sort of interview with the rest of the staff. Are you looking forward to the concert thing yourself?”

“Actually, I am. As I’ve said, my students have improved tremendously. These kids are getting better with their skills with every passing day. I just can’t wait to see what it’ll add up to when the big day arrives. Not to mention they’ve picked some very fun songs to play.”

“I’ve heard that you’re going to be playing at the recital too, aren’t you?” Celestia inquired.

“Only with the Tchaikovsky piece because it is a movement of his violin concerto. You see, the orchestra bits are the easy bit compare to the solo itself.”

“How so?”

“Well… the music of it has a main theme that it repeats itself but in variations. It’s like playing Paganini, it’s really fun to play, but it’s incredibly hard. For example, playing the first variation is… doable, let’s put it as that, the second is unbelievably hard, and the third one… if you could even get there, good luck.”

“But you have played this before, right?” asked Luna.

The Violinist nodded, “I have played it in the past. For while I’m comfortable playing the most difficult part of that piece, I hope that my students are ready to perform this for the first time.”

_*_

In class, the student orchestra was beating out the last few notes of their climatic finale. Harmonic bathed in the sound as his pupils drew out the final octave before all went still. There was a tense silence as each group from the strings to the lone percussionist waited for his criticism.

But to their surprise, their teacher applauded, “There!” he cried, “You’ve got it! Give yourselves a hand,” and at once, in their relief, the students clapped at their hard work for the past three months have at last paid off.

“I’m very impressed,” Harmonic continued, “You’ve not only pulled off the Bohemian Rhapsody pretty well, but you’ve mastered Tchaikovsky too.” Looking at the clock, he added, “Now, since we have a few minutes of class left, I need to talk to you about a few things while you rest.”

Once bows were on the black music stands, hands laid limp from the brass and wind instruments, their teacher told them, “Since the big recital is next week at seven, I think that right now, we need to have another vote in what order you want to perform your pieces. So by a show of hands, do you want to play at the very start?” nobody raised a hand. “Those who want to perform in the middle?” there were a few votes, but not many. “And those who want to play at the very end?” Immediately, nearly all of them did.

“Okay,” Harmonic went over to his desk to grab a clipboard where he started to jot down the order. “Another question, which pieces do you all want to perform first? The Queen song, or the Violin Concerto?” His class declared that they’ll play the Tchaikovsky last, and the Orchestra Teacher marked it down.

“Okay, and one last thing that I want to announce. Beginning Monday, the week after school ends, I’m opening to give privet music lessons to you all. This, by-the-way, is completely independent of any other school program, which means that if you want to be taught once a week by me, for half-an-hour, you’ll have to pay up. So if you have the means to give fifteen dollars for thirty minutes for once a week to improve your musical skills, please sign this paper and give the time to do these lessons.”

A hand was raised, “Mr. H, where exactly are you going to do these lessons?”

“At my home on 1406 Main Hatters Street, in my Living Room which is the first room, you’ll see when you walk through the door. I’ll have you know that my lessons include the strings, piano, percussion, winds, and brass. As I’ve said, if any of you have the means to pay and commit to a particular schedule, fill free to fill this chart with your name and time.

“So now, you are all free to wonder around, and when the bell rings, class is dismissed.”

Many students took this opportunity to stretch out their legs or simply stand up. A small group of students surrounds their teacher’s desk with a pocket full of questions.

“So, how come at your house?” one student asked.

“Simply because that is the only convenient place for me to teach since this school will be closed for the remaining summer.”

“I thought you were a Violinist,” inquired another, “so does this mean you can play on multiple instruments?”

Harmonic shrugged, “On some, yes. I’ve learned over the years how to play the viola, the piano, cello, clarinet, etc. But I just have the love for the violin in-particular. Besides, when you teach Orchestra, you have to know about the tools that you’re students are using to understand better.”

“Why half-an-hour?”

He rolled his eyes, “Because it’s summer, who wants to spend more than an hour learning music when you guys have plenty to do?” this got a chuckle out of his students.

After a few more questions, a handful of the students had flocked over to his desk to choose a particular time and day of the week before the bell rang. There were a few last minute sign-ups before the classroom was emptied.

Once Harmonic was alone, he picked up the signing sheet and scanned who among his student he’ll expect in the coming warm months. He noticed that on a Friday afternoon, the names of Braeburn had scheduled himself to be right after Soarin’s lessons. And the same goes with Lyra and Bon Bon on the very next day on Saturday evenings.

‘Oh boy, what did they sign up for…?’ he thought as he looked at the sheet closely, ‘Mr. Cloudline’s on drums. Mr. Apple on the violin… Heartstrings with the harp and Drops is… the piano? Huh, guess that’s why she wasn’t doing so well with it at the start.’

As he got out the music sheets for the next period he thought further, ‘I’m wondering what it’ll be like working with them in privet? I mean sure, Lyra and Sweetie have already stopped sending those gifts a while back, but will they bring it up again while I’m teaching either of them? And what about Braeburn? I guess he’s signing up just so that he could probably talk to me. Come to think of it…’ He shook his head, ‘Come on Harm, why are you so concerned about them anyway? They’re just students after all. They look up to you. There’s no need to be concerned about their lives, right?’

He paused before chuckling to himself, ‘Fatherly instincts, I suppose. After all, Script did look up to me and…’ Harmonic violently shook his head, ‘No! Stop it right now! Don’t think about him this early in the day! You just congratulated your students on two great performances, there’s no need to ruin what’s going to be a good day with a good injection of depression now.’

The Violinist took in a few deep breaths to steady his mind. He’ll be fine. He’s always fine while he’s in public. There’s no need to show his students his weaker side.

As he thought of this, the first of his second hour of students emerged from the door.

_*_

“I really hate these clothes,” Soarin muttered under his breath, tugging at the white collar and tie. “This thing is always so itchy.”

Braeburn chuckled, “It’s kinda weird ta see ya in somethin’ so formal. Ah, couldn’t ever picture ya in anythin’ outside of jerseys or a t-shirt.”

“I know, even seeing you without your jeans or your vest is… weird. So why are we wearing these again?”

The yellow student looked down at his attire, “Somethin’ about lookin’ professional Ah guess.”

The two of them took a moment to look around the backstage of the auditorium. They went the only ones who were whispering as music from the other orchestra from Mr. H’s classes were performing. All the male students wore white shirts and ties while the female students were in dresses. Each student was holding on to their instrument like Braeburn was clenching his violin and bow in one hand while Soarin was carrying around drumsticks in his pocket.

“Hey there,” they looked up, and even in the darken backstage of curtains and ropes, they identified who it was that spoken to them.

“Lyra… ain’t it?” Braeburn asked softly.

She nodded as she was joined by Bon Bon who had a brass horn under her arm. “So,” the mint green student started, “You ready for the big show?”

“Ah hope so, jus’ tryin’ not to be too nervous.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie Drops nodded, “I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t the least bit anxious myself.”

“Aw come on,” Lyra elbowed her; “You just have to have a bit of confidence. Remember that time when everyone and their cat went music crazy and before we did that piano duet for the audition?” she nodded, “You remember what I said?”

“Forget who’s listening, and sing to me?”

Lyra smiled and patted her shoulder, “Yeah, you’ll do fine. Just focus on the notes, and don’t get distracted.” She turned to the two other students, “Actually, I think everything will turn out fine.”

“Ah hope so,” Braeburn muttered under his breath.

“Say, how are you two doing anyway?” Bon Bon asked, “Haven’t gotten the chance to speak with ya.”

“It’s going good,” Soarin commented, “I have some plans for the summer: going to spend more time about my wings; drumming lessons from Mr. H, and going on more dates with Fleetfoot.”

“You’re taking up privet lessons from him too?” Lyra inquired, “So did we.”

“Same,” the cowboy commented.

“Hey,” Sweetie Drops turned to Braeburn, “What are you doing for the summer?”

He shrugged, “Chores around the farm, fiddle lessons, nothin’ much outside of that.”

“Wow, you’re boring,” Soarin joked; this got his friend to glare at him.

“And preparin’ fer the Fourth of July,” the cowboy added. “After all, the family’s comin’ fer the fireworks on the farm.”

“Oh yeah, since your guy’s farms are on the hills, you get the best view in town for it.”

“Eeyup,” he said proudly, however, both of them paused when they heard the two girls giggling, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing,” Sweetie Drops gave a sly grin while trying to cover it with her free hand.

Before either of them could press any further on why they acted like that, the other orchestra had finished their piece and started to walk off the stage to the applause in the auditorium. And it was also here that Harmonic popped his head through the stage curtains, “Alright, here we go everybody.”

Taking up their courage and whatever confidence they had, the students picked up their instruments and walked into the light of the stage. There was respectable applause coming from their audience, no doubt from their families that had come to support them. Once they found their respected seats, their teacher came out on stage to the conductor’s stand and instructed them to tune up.

At first, there was the sound a piano pressing a note before the humming of the violins and violas with the cellos and horns following close by. Winds whirled up and down and the harp danced around the scales. The brass had an underplayed fanfare as the percussion tapped for the right intensity. For a moment, each instrument tried to settle on the right tone while a few flutes, bassoons, and trumpets declared their voices.

As for Harmonic, who had a bow in hand and his battered up violin case behind him, tapped on the music stand with his bow to get everyone’s attention. Turning around, he grabbed the microphone. “And now, our last two pieces for tonight will be played by my students in first hour. I must say, that I am quite impressed with all of them in the effort they had put into the music you’re about to hear. So, now the first piece you’ll hear comes from what hast to be, the most famous song that Queen has ever made, and done in an arrangement that my students have done perfectly.

“So, without wasting any more time, I give you the orchestra arrangement of Bohemian Rhapsody, with Ms. Rose for the viola solo.”

The audience kindly clapped as the redheaded girl walk up to the front of the stage beside the Orchestra teacher, putting the wooden instrument underneath her chin and her bow on the strings.

Looking over to his students, they too did the same thing; the entire string section placed the pieces of wood underneath their chins, with one hand on the strings and the other on the bow that waited for his signal. Putting down his bow, Harmonic raised his hands to where he studied himself for the moment of judgment for both of his students, and for those who were in the auditorium.

Then, the violas and cellos started to ask the question of what is real or fantasy. In the moment of uncertainty, the violins, harp and the viola soloist joined in with the discussion with the clarinets drifted like a ghost over the uncertainty of it all.

Strings, wind, and horns, if not the rest of the orchestra began to weave the musical fantasy with the viola as a narrator. Soon, the soloist began with a remorseful confession to someone close. The soft horns and strings added to the melodrama before telling to carry on, no matter what happens.

At the goodbye, the soloist confesses that although scared, she knows that she hast do go through with the trial with dignity.

After a fanfare of the trumpets and percussion, the fantasy cuts to the trial where calculated strings and thunderous horns defend and prosecuted the soloist among the drama. Both sides went back and forth on what is to be done for the violist for this monstrosity.

It came to the point where the brass and strings shrilled in defiance over the defense of the protagonist. Giving a strong argument in a roar of truth over those who want nothing but to harm the violist, however, the percussion and brass shouted back their case.

This went on until the order was given for both sides to calm down, meanwhile, the viola gives the statement that whatever happens to her, it doesn’t matter for she is willing to go where the wind blows in her fate.

Once the fantasy faded into silence, there sounds of approval from cheers to clapping all around the auditorium, much to the Orchestra’s relief.

Harmonic turned his attention towards his coffin case, which he unlatched and pulled out his violin before taking the microphone in his hand, “Now that was quite the song, no? I think that was a pretty good warm-up for our final piece, which is P. I. Tchaikovsky’s first movement of his first (and only) violin concerto.”

There were whispers among the audience before the Violinist continued, “Before we begin, a little background is needed to fully understand this piece.

“If the name Tchaikovsky sounds familiar, he’s the same guy who composed the Swan Lake ballet, The 1812 Overture, and is known for his Nutcracker. This concerto was written after his success of Swan Lake, and shortly after his first and only marriage ended in disaster. He fled to Italy with a violinist who commissioned him to write this concerto. This was one of his happiest pieces because, at the time, he had fallen in love with someone else, and was missing his native Russia.

“So, here tonight, we present the first movement, with me playing one of the most difficult solos in history, is what I like to call, ‘Tchaikovsky in Love.’”

There was a collective chuckle as he turned to his students, who already switched music sheets and were ready for him to start.

Turning around, and with a wave of his hand, his student orchestra began with a prelude, as the beginning of a dance. The cellos and clarinet rose with anticipation with the violas and violins rising with them.

And then, with his eyes closed, Harmonic began to play on his rare violin the music of a gypsy that rose up the scales to lure in the audience into a series of memories. In Harmonic’s mind, although he had played this before, each performance was different because of all the memories that would drift through his head. In this case, he tried to recall as many happy memories as possible for his music to fly.

He recalled his son’s adoption on one Christmas day, who gave him a chance to raise him into the wonderful man that his fiancé would marry soon. Not to mention that he recalled the day that his son found his calling in creative writing. He also remembered witnessing the proposal and the joy that was on their faces.

Yet, the one person that kept haunting him was his late husband. Perhaps that was why his violin sounded as sweet as he recalled the life and times of Color. Like the day that he first was introduced to him as a late teen. As he recalled, someone name Cadence knew a friend of hers who was a painter and arranged a meeting for the both of them. Their first “date” was color painting his portrait of him playing the violin. Although it was an awkward start, it did catch his attention.

Then there was the time when Color had caught a cold so he prepared some soup in his messy apartment/studio, or when he was taught how to ice-skate for the first time.

In his nostalgia, he was lost in the music of his memories that he nearly had forgotten that his students were still playing. But when there were parts where there was nothing but his violin, he almost daydreamed that the auditorium was empty, all except for Color. He could see in his mind’s eye that his husband was sitting in one of the rows of seats, leaning forward as he played his best for him.

Meanwhile, in reality, the teacher’s spider-like fingers went all over the black neck of his instrument, yet still done in the mastery of his experience. His students still kept up as best as they could when he goes from a soft, joyful sound to a lightning pace of notes from one bar to the next.

From the audience’s perspective, while Harmonic was giving his emotional performance, some could have sworn that there was a tear that trailed down from his eyes.

_*_

Several minutes later, the student and the teacher brought their long piece to an end, their hands tired, and some out of breath; they beat out the last notes of the concerto into silence. They were received by an avalanche of applause as cheers, whistles and claps rolled down the seats and onto the stage.

Harmonic opened his eyes, turning to his students, all of them stood up from their seats, and as one, they bowed. “That’s all we have,” he said taking the microphone, “You have been wonderful! Thank you, good night, and have a great summer.” And with that, the crimson curtain fell, muffling the audience’s reaction.

Turning to his students, he told them, “That was exceptional work everyone, give yourselves a round of applause,” they did so.

“That was awesome!” Soarin exclaimed.

With a chuckle, their teacher said, “As of now, your grades will be up tomorrow. So have a good week everybody, and have a good summer.” And with that, everyone started to pack up their instruments and music sheets, anticipating going home after a long night’s performance.

“Boy am Ah plum tired,” Braeburn commented as he caught up with his best friend.

The blue athlete grinned, “Yeah, but that was worth it huh?” he said as he reached into his pocket to check his silenced cellphone.

Meanwhile, the yellow cowboy went over to his case, “Ah admit, that was pretty fun, especially listenin’ to Mr. H’s fiddle. Whooh! Can he play am Ah right?” there was no response. Confused, he turned to his best friend and saw that Soarin had a devastated look on his face as he stared at his phone. “Uh, Soar? You alright there partner?”

“What?” Soarin asked softly but distantly as if he wasn’t talking to his friend anymore.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Braeburn got up to look over Soarin’s shoulder at his phone.

There, he saw a text from Fleetfoot, ‘Hey Soar,’ it said, ‘I’m sorry that I have to tell u this, but I don’t think this is going to work. Don’t get me wrong, you’re a great guy, but I’m afraid that I don’t feel that much of a connection to u. I think its best that we break this up before it gets worse. I see you more as a friend than a boyfriend. I’m sorry about this.’

“But… why?” Soarin’s voice cracked, “W-What did I do wrong?”

“Hey, buddy,” Braeburn spoke with caution.

“I thought… I thought it was going to work this time… I-I thought we really had something… Why is she b-breaking up?” now his eyes started to water. “What did I do wrong?”

“Hey now,” the cowboy placed a comforting hand over his shoulder, “Don’t speak like that, it ain’t the end of the world.”

“But… I-I don’t understand,” now the athlete’s eyes overflowed, and as if on instinct, Braeburn hugged him, while his best friend started to sob.

This didn’t go unnoticed, their teacher noticed the sound of sadness and walked over to them, “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Mr. H,” Braeburn said, “Now ain’t a good time.”

Harmonic looked over at his sobbing student, “You sure?”

He nodded, still holding tightly onto Soarin until his shirt was soaked in his beloved’s tears.