Melodious Desideratum

by Desideratium

Auditions

You take a seat beside a blue unicorn, who mutely nods greeting to you. You try to smile reassuringly back, but it might have turned out to be more of a grimace.

Up onstage, Royal Riff takes the center, while Symphony disappears backstage. “I suppose I don’t have to tell you why you are here . . .” He smiles warmly. “But I will warn you, you all had better be absolutely sure you know what you’re signing up for here. This position is not for the weak of resolve.”

You swallow, hoping the pony next to you doesn’t notice. He doesn’t appear to.

“Our training schedule. . .” Royal Riff continues. “Is made up of four-hour sessions, usually once, but sometimes twice a day, depending on how our concert schedule looks. The closer we are to a performance, the higher the frequency of rehearsals, which is to be expected, of course.” His eyes drift across the crowd, resting for a second or two on each face before moving on. “It is a considerable commitment, and I understand if you aren’t able to comply. If there is anypony here who thinks that they won’t be able to meet requirements, I would ask you to please exit now.”

Tense silence hovers in a cloud over the room. Not one pony moves.

Royal Riff nods. “I see. Well then, without further ado . . .”

Symphony appears back onstage, pushing a massive grand piano in front of her. It’s a beautiful instrument, made entirely of black ebony. A sparkling white keyboard, dotted by reflective black lines that are flats and sharps.

“Let us begin.”

****

You watch nervously as the first hopeful, a brown earth pony, takes her place at the bench. It’s always mystified you how anypony could play a piano without magic. Hooves seem too bulky to press the keys accurately. But then again, Frederic Horseshoepin had managed it for decades, and his music was extraordinary.

On a signal from Symphony, who is sitting at a table at the base of the stage with Royal Riff, the mare begins to play.

Your stomach tightens. This pony is no novice. Her hooves dance expertly up and down the keyboard, producing a cheerful, uplifting melody. Waves of her music wash over the room, engulfing you with a feeling of content. And by a glance at the judges’ table, Symphony and Royal Riff are also impressed.

Symphony lets the mare go on for a minute or two, and then stops her with a raise of her hoof. The earth pony stands to a smattering of light applause. “Thank you,” says Symphony. “After each applicant is finished, will you kindly take your seats in the congregation? We will get back to you with our results after all the performances are finished.” The earth pony exits the stage, looking a little crestfallen.

“Next!”

The performances go in order of seating, so it puts you in dead last. One by one, ponies take the stage. Gradually, the line begins to thin.

As the performances progress, your spirits sink lower and lower. None of the applicants are terrible, and some are actually quite experienced. A memorable contender was a green pegasus, who used his wing tips as well as hooves to key out a bouncy ragtime piece. He left the stage to rigorous floor stomping, and you could see Royal Riff nodding approvingly.

The first row empties, leaving two more before you.

A unicorn mounts the stage and assumes her position in front of the piano. You sit up, eager to see her technique. Surprisingly, her horn doesn’t even light up. Instead, she works the keys like a regular earth pony, with her forehooves. You recline back into your seat, a little disappointed. As she begins to play, you start to tune out. Her performance is only average, and you’ve had just about enough.

You suddenly latch onto one of the many worries that have been floating around in your mind for the past few hours. Your heart rate doubles as you contemplate the fact that now takes up your entire attention.

What will you play?

When practicing, you almost never have a definite piece in mind when you sit down. Of course, you could play just about anything if you were to put your mind to it, but suddenly nothing seems suitable for this. And you can’t very well improvise; what if Royal Riff asks you to replicate it? Nothing you play ever sticks in your memory; it’s more spur-of-the-moment.

Your attention snaps back to the performance. A different pony than when you last checked is onstage now, playing what sounds like a funeral march. You look down the line, counting the ponies before you. Your heart skips a beat when you realize that you had missed four performances while you were ruminating. Four ponies less than there were two seconds—by your perspective—ago.

For the first time, you look around the theater. Despite what Symphony had said, many of the applicants had left the building. The rest are scattered around, mostly in the front, except for one mare.

Near the back of the room, sitting in the center of a row, her back legs propped up on the seat in front of her.

Vinyl Scratch.

When Vinyl sees you looking, she gives you a hearty wave, which you can’t bring yourself to return. You turn back around to see somepony exit the stage, and a large earth pony take his place.

If the pressure wasn’t on before, it certainly is now. Besides Symphony, Royal Riff, and a roomful of competitors, you also have to worry about impressing Vinyl Scratch now.

Lovely.

The line is down to a handful of ponies, and rapidly decreasing. In a matter of time, only you and the blue stallion next to you are still sitting. The pony onstage plays a slow lament, eyes closed. Whether she’s immersed in her music, or simply being dramatic, the effect is good. It makes her look mystical, especially since her long, ash-grey mane is flowing in a frenzied whirlwind.

When her performance is over, Symphony has to run up onstage to tap her on the shoulder to signal that her time is up. The music ends abruptly, the last chord ringing out across the hall, thanks to the flawless acoustics.

The stallion to your right stands. “Excuse me.” You pull in your legs to let him pass. He takes the short aisle to the stage at a trot and confidently prances up the steps to the stage. Symphony mutters something in Royal Riff’s ear, causing him to shake his head. She tries more insistently, but he denies it again. Frustrated, Symphony turns away and waves impatiently at the stallion onstage, who is gazing at her expectantly. Having been given the signal, his horn lights.

You once again snap to attention. Finally, somepony who knows how to do it properly.

But the unicorn’s execution is still incorrect. As he plays, he takes control of each key individually, instead of the keyboard as a whole. This makes playing a complicated piece inconvenient, as well as tiring. The attention of the caster is constantly shifting, focusing on each key. Whereas commandeering the instrument as a whole makes transitioning octaves and chords almost effortless.

The unicorn’s music is passable, but lacking the flow that is required for a truly masterful pianist.

It may be your imagination, but it seems like Symphony ended the performance a little earlier than the others. The unicorn onstage appears to notice as well, because he frowns suspiciously as he exits.

“And last, but not least . . .” Royal Riff prompts, looking back at you.

Your stomach jumps to your throat. You stand, and your vision clouds from the blood rushing to your brain. You take a few tentative steps, holding onto the seats to keep your balance. Your eyesight clears and your stride quickens.

Before you know it, you’re at the stairs. One hoof in front of the other, taking it one step at a time, you ascend.

The piano comes into view. You pull out the bench with your hoof, frowning slightly. Instead of the cracked leather you’re used to, the seat is hard wood. This shouldn’t make a difference, but you’re unnerved by the little detail. You sit, studying the feel.

Symphony takes a long moment to stare at you before motioning for you to begin.

Your mind goes on overdrive. Magic envelopes the keyboard, probing the unfamiliar objects. The keys are slightly stiffer than your own piano’s. The strings more taut.

Your eyes close, but not for dramatic effect. You attempt to shut down your mind, one port at a time. Without considering and longer, you play.

The song isn’t as impressive as some of your others. The tune is actually much simpler than what most of the other hopefuls had played. No fancy scales and variations, just raw music.

You lose focus of where you are, and what you’re doing. The melody pours out of you like a stream, gently rolling and fading. A hopeful strain tries to break free, but a somber undertone keeps the song from being overly joyful. The happiness is overpowered by a sense of loss that almost beings tears to your eyes.

The sadness is overwhelming. Your music fades out, your emotions taking hold of you. You finish with one last quiet chord, than silence.

Short lived silence, broken by tumultuous applause. You’re torn back to reality and your eyes snap open. Every pony in the room is on their feet, stomping relentlessly. Royal Riff and Symphony are sitting still, dumbfounded. You make out a single tear running down Symphony’s cheek, and the realization hits you like the Friendship Express.

They loved it.

At the back of the room, Vinyl stands with a smug grin plastered to her face, like: “I told you he was good.” Her hooves rhythmically clopped against the floor, showing her appreciation.

But at the back of the room, a mare stands alone.

A grey mare with charcoal-black hair.

*****

Props to LookOutLondon for Octavia's Lullaby!

Comments

[Desideratium]

A little while ago, I checked into FimFiction and noticed that my followers have doubled in a matter of hours.
Using that motivation, I sat down and cranked out this chapter in one sitting.
Enjoy.

- Desideratium

[TimeStop12]

Well i have to say, i love this chapter. You seemed to capture what everyone feels when it comes to open auditions. You deserve those followers

[Dusty Sage]

This is about the only redeeming social value I can see in my utter lack of musical talent: I'd never have to go through an open audition.

[Desideratium]

943940

I, being musically retarded, have never actually attended an audition myself either. Also, I have no idea what goes on behind the scenes in an orchestra, so my portrayal is most likely going to be horribly incorrect. From here on out, I'm winging it.

[Oxy]

Wow, this chapter was simply amazing, and that piece really added to it!

[Equestrialize]

Reading those last few lines with "Octavia's Lullaby" was amazing, not only did i get to read something good, i got introduced to some good music.
Best way to start a day, Ever.

The song is quietly coming to an end, and im dying to read more.
Bravo!

[Desideratium]

946010
That song showed up on EqD, and I thought it was perfect for this. While I was writing this, I probably listened to it for an hour straight. So beautiful.

[CannedRyby]

Loving the story so far. Keep it up!

[Desideratium]

1030060
Thank you, sir!

[alexanderhunt88]

could play just about anything

Try this.

[Desideratium]

3914657

Is that a challenge?