The first meeting of Fiona (Fiddlesticks) and Viola (Symphony), a moment when fate and balance was tipped into disharmony due to jealousy and envy. Can these two girls find balance? Or are they doomed to become the bitterist of enemies?
Fiona Buckner-Smith (human Fiddlesticks) wishes to expand her musical horizons, and enters Celestia's Royal Academy with this goal in mind. But she finds that her country background and scholarship marks her as vastly different from the other freshmen in the music section.
Viola Krauss (human Symphony) is a rising star in the violin section, expecting her way paved with her family heritage and skills, only to find some backwater amateur upsets her plans. Finding herself suddenly challenged for first chair, she tries to answer with one of her own.
Two girls, both violinists and wanting to reach the top, find the other in their path. Can they work together to reach there or will jealousy and envy for one another drive a wedge between them?
EDIT: Yes, I changed the names. I used their pony names to get it to pass submission. I feel guilty and yet not. GTVS: The Great Teacher Vinyl Scratch is the sequel to this story (though this story was made AFTER GTVS started and got really far). I got the author's permission to write this and everything in here is correct and aligned with the cannon of his story.
Wind carried the sound of a fiddle over the orchard. The sound started slow and even, almost classical in nature despite the surrounding. Apple trees, the pride and joy of farmers of Appleloosa, swayed in the evening wind. The setting sun added the finishing touch to the backdrop to the musician sitting on a wide porch, family members surrounding her. Most were women, hair damp with towels around their necks, eyes closed to enjoy the relaxing tones. One of the few males outside burst into laughter, slapping his knee with a wide grin.
“Cuz’, we don’t want tah fall asleep just yet! Why don’t ya give us some flair?” The older teen winked his dark-green eyes, dirty blonde hair rustling with the wind.
Smirking above an orange scarf and fiddle tucked under her chin, the tan girl gave her instrument several short strokes, going up and down the range before elongating two notes to mark the transition. Adding a modern flair to the classical piece, she added four short scaling notes every so often to remind her audience of the source material.
Some of her cousins got up from their leaning positions and began to dance, swaying and acting silly. After watching her relatives enjoy the new beat, she switched back to the original style, laughing when her family comically slowed as well. Soon there were pairs slow dancing in front of the large two story barn house.
Fiona continued to both chuckle and play, wanting to keep her cousins on their toes even after a long day of work. She changed the style another four times before heading to the end. Once she finished with a flurry of notes, her cousins all applauded her skills. As they went inside, they each gave a pat to the fiddler’s shoulder. The young man wearing the brown stetson plopped next to the fiddler once everyone else left the musician outside.
“How’s that for some music Braeburn?” Fiona smirked at the boy who lightly punched her left shoulder.
“You sure do have a musical talent. Y’know, there are plenty of music schools in the big cities.” Brandon, or Braeburn as he was known to most of people, waved his hand vaguely towards the horizon. Fiona shook her head with a small smile, putting the instrument back in its case on her right.
“Ah don’t think so Cuz. It’ll take a lot of money for me tah go to some school just for music. Ain’t the next harvest profit set for some maintenance around the farm? No way can Ah try an’ use it for just me.” The girl tried to stop her mind from imagining what would happen if she did go. Sighing softly, she ruffled her cousin’s shoulder length hair.
“As nice as it mighta been tah go to some fancy school for music, it ain’t gonna happen. Not unless ya find a couple o’ thousand dollars layin’ around.” The young teen paused, standing midway, when her cousin made an observation as he continued to watch the darkening sky.
“There are some places that give out the money to the really talented. You could go an’ show them just how we do things here in the south.”
The girl didn’t answer the lad and went inside, case under her left arm. As she entered, a female cousin who was sitting by the far wall perked up, raising her voice to be heard over the din.
“Fiona, did yer mom find ya?”
“My mom was lookin’ for me?” Fiona paused in front of the doorway. She tried to spot the older woman but couldn’t locate her. “Where’d she go?”
“Well, she was gonna head out to talk with ya, but maybe she went back to the kitchen instead.” The older girl shrugged from her seat. The scarf wearing teen nodded her thanks, passing through the crowd to get to the back room.
Popping her head through the open archway, she scanned the large kitchen to find her target by the stove. Kat Smith, Fiona's mother, placed a large pot full of water onto the heated surface. Swiping at her dark brown hair once that task was finished, she went to the fridge to gather more ingredients.
“Howdy mom, were ya lookin’ for me?” Fiona calmly asked, trying to suppress any anxiety of her mom having eavesdropped on Braeburn and her’s conversation.
“Hmm? Oh, Ah just wanted tah say you sure have been practicing. Sounds just like a professional. If you could, would ya want to go to one of them fancy schools for music?” Brown eyes peeked over the older woman’s shoulder, flashing with keen interest, as she surveyed the younger girl.
Fiona flushed, squirming in place, while her mind went back to how she had said those same words not even a minute ago. Biting her lower lip, the girl tried to think of what would be a good response. When she was unable to think of a proper lie, she sighed, acknowledging the old family saying. “Family should never lie about anything.”
“Ah… Ah would. But Ah know that it costs a lot too. Did… Did ya want some help with supper?” The teen set her instrument down on a counter away from most of the activity. Once her hands were free, she joined her mother in preparing the evening meal for twenty.
“Thanks sugar… Where did ya learn that tune?” Kat asked with a smile, peeking at her youngest child with pride in her gaze.
“Oh, well, er, Red wanted to watch that movie about some Phantom? The music was pretty good, but Ah, uh, started to make it up after Braeburn went and teased me about it.” Fiona shrugged, red flowing over her cheeks, keeping her focus on the plates and utensils she was setting out.
“Y'all and yer nicknames for each other..." The older woman playfully rolled her eyes for a second before grinning to her daughter. "Yer really good with fiddle playin' though.”
The praise from her mom, someone who didn’t give it freely, made the red hue darken on the young girl's face.
Fiona sat on the front porch once again, enjoying the sunset after another day’s hard work. She wasn’t playing her fiddle in order to not dwell on music schools she’d never be able to go to. With both arms around her left knee that was raised to her chest, she softly sighed, head going to rest on the kneecap.
Even though she heard the door and porch boards creek, signaling that someone was coming outside, she didn’t turn, merely continuing her survey of the orchards. Suddenly, a leaflet was thrust into view, the dark skin and shape of the hand identifying it as Fiona’s mother.
“What’s this-?” The teen reached out, taking hold of the papers while her leg dropped down to hang over the edge with its brethren.
“Brandon suggested some places. They seem pretty nice. Ya can probably get in easily.” Kat joined her daughter, sitting down while keeping her gaze firmly on the sunset before them.
The tan girl unfolded the various pamphlets, brows furrowing when she saw the location and prestige of the schools they described. She continued to glance through, finally settling on the tuition page with a hollow pit in her stomach. No matter which school it was, their prestigious cost more than they could afford at once.
“Mum, ya know we can’t -”
“Take a look at the last page before deciding.”
Scrunching her lips together, Fiona did as directed, flipping to the back and staring wide-eyed at the various grants offered by the educational council. There were grants to fit any kind of student’s need, though her gaze drifted towards the musical section.
“Application tah be submitted with an audition?”
“As if ya can’t play a sweet little jig tah get into any school ya set yer mind to.” Braeburn’s voice floated from behind the two woman. His hand shot out to ruffle the younger girl’s hair. Fiona swatted his hand away and smirked, rolling her eyes at his teasing.
“... Would it be alright if Ah went Mum?” The girl asked softly, her eyes unmoving from the flyers in front of her, her focus on the woman next to her.
“If ya want. Up to you and whether yer gonna work for it. Though we Smiths do know a thing or two about hard work.” The older lady stood up from her seat and patted her daughter’s shoulder.
Fiona flashed through the leaflets once again, mind swirling rapidly, while her cousin joined her on the porch.
- DC -
“Ah’m Fiona Buckner-Smith, playin’ on the fiddle.” The dark brown haired girl bowed her head, fiddle and bow in each hand. Standing up once more, she raised her instrument, eyes closing as she blocked out the stage and judges who sat in the shadows.
The figures began to write notes as they listened to the latest applicant. Fiona tried not to let her worry affect her performance, imagining she was back on the farm with only family listening. It hadn’t helped that she was among the last few to perform. She had to watch the other kids try their best for the chance to get a higher education and were therefore her competition.
Giving a final flourish to her song, she bowed once more, making sure her white stetson was still on her head. Glancing up, she noticed one of the judges, an older man with short black grizzled hair, stood up with a warm smile.
“Thank you for your application, Ms. Buckner-Smith. You’ll be notified by mail within one to two weeks of any decisions.” Vito Philharmonica dipped his head to the girl, waving to the left exit.
Fiona tipped her hat with her right hand, making her way off stage and where her family waited for her.
Guess Ah’ll see how Ah did in ah couple of weeks...
The air held a crispness that signalled the oncoming autumn. Canterlot, a city located near the Horseshoe mountain range, was a shining capital of the land. Its residents were a mixed portion, though it did hold a large portion of upper class families. The northern portion held large mansions, resting amidst large acres of smoothly cut grass.
In the middle of a single acre, located in Bel-Hay which was closer to the heart of the city than Echelon Hills where the truly elite stayed, was a two story building that sat over halfway to the street. It’s exterior was white marble with an auburn shingled roof that stood out from the sparse yard around it. Shrubs and bushes made into basic designs were scattered around the grounds, without a single tree to disturb the even sunlight that peeked over the mountains.
Inside, one of the occupants of the mansion was enjoying breakfast. Seated at the head of the eight person table was an older man who was reading that morning’s paper. Short gray hair could barely be seen over top of the newspaper. Before him was a plate in the process of being cleared of its contents, along with a large pale-tan cup of coffee. On his right sat a woman, her dark brown hair set in a neat bun at the nape of her neck, sipping daintily from her tea cup.
The sound of unhurried steps echoed from beyond the living room, the equestrian cherry not softening the dress shoes the girl wore. The teenager entered the mostly quiet dining room, ignoring the paintings that hung along the wall and the large windows that showcased the yard outside. She delicately put down the black backpack she held before heading for the table in the center of the room.
“Good morning Mother, Father.” The pale teen brushed away stray lint and creases from her new uniform jacket. Her old one was now too small for her and it was with great pride that she entered eighth grade with a brand new uniform.
“Good morning dear.” Viktor Krauss flipped a page, calling just loud enough to be heard. His voice held a firmness to it that caused everyone in the room to listen as he spoke, a trait useful as a judge.
The older woman hummed appreciatively as she set down her cup, checking her middle child’s appearance.
“Yes, a good morning my dear. I see the uniform fits wonderfully.” Hilda Krauss smirked gently, turning her gaze to the nearby maid who appeared from the back left door that lead directly to the kitchen.
The light tan woman held a silver tray that held two cups of orange juice and plates of egg and toast. Her dark red hair curled around her face stood out from her dark gray uniform. Smiling tensely to the curly brunette, she set her burden on the table, preparing the meals next on both sides, close to the two adults.
Viola nodded briefly to the maid, smirking for a second, before taking the seat closest to her mother and digging in. Another set of footsteps came rapidly down the stairs in the main room, feet clad in socks making less noise than the girl’s dress shoes. A young boy, his short light brown hair barely mussed from sleep, entered the room, taking a seat beside his father.
“Good morning…” Anthony hopped a little to be able to reach the taller chairs, calling out greetings as he did so. He found all his utensils within easy reach and smiled appreciatively to the maid who walked back to the kitchen for the moment.
Once everyone’s focus was back to their food, the boy scooped up some of his eggs, taking rapid aim. Having only a second to spare, Anthony launched his missile, pleased with his accuracy as the poultry landed squarely on his older sister’s head.
“Anthoonyyy!” Viola sat up in annoyance, both hands coming to slam against the table as she shouted at her six year old brother.
“Anthony, you shouldn’t throw your food, apologize to your sister. Viola, sit down, it’s unlady-like to shout.” Hilda stood up, reaching over to help her daughter while the servant returned from the kitchen with a cloth and bowl of water.
The boy ignored the command, giggling at his sister’s plight, until he caught sight of his father’s stern gaze over top of his paper. Bowing his head in acceptance, Anthony muttered to Viola.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it…”
The thirteen year old didn’t trust the apology, but could do little at this time about it. She instead focused on getting the egg from her hair. It wouldn’t do to be late for the first day back to school. When Viola’s hair was free of the food, the maid grabbed the young boy’s plate and returned with a fresh meal for him, though she stayed nearby in case of other ‘accidents’.
The two siblings shared a glare, one full of teasing and the other of warning, before they went back to their meal. Once everyone’s plates were clear, Viktor folded up his newspaper and rose from his seat.
“Viola, are you ready for school? I’ll make sure the driver stops by your school.” The older man walked over to the woman and leaned down to kiss her farewell. Hilda smiled as she tilted her head to receive the embrace.
Viola nodded and stood as well, dipping her head to the servant, before reaching for her backpack. She went to her mother and gave her a peck on her left cheek, along with a teasing glare to her brother.
“Goodbye Mother, Anthony.”
“Have a nice day hun. Anthony, you’ll stay with me until your tutor arrives, ok?” The older woman smiled at the boy who shyly nodded before going back to his meal.
Meanwhile, father and daughter passed through their large sitting room that held a wide couch and several recliners before an antique fireplace. Not pausing in their journey, they headed to the expansive entry room, which was mostly empty aside from landscape paintings along the wall and a swiping staircase leading to the second floor. Ignoring the view, they went to the arched doorway and exited, locking it behind them.
They walked swiftly along the cement pathway, to where it met the street. A long black limousine awaited the duo. The driver came out and opened the door for the Krausses, closing it once they were inside and returned back to his seat. The drive was mostly silent, both occupants watching the city grow denser as stores and other houses began to fill up the streets. Soon they arrived and paused in front of the large gate. The older man glanced to his daughter, raising a single brow.
“Here we are, dear. Have a pleasant day.”
Viola tilted her head with a small grin, looking to her father as she reached for the door. “Thank you Father, you as well.”
Pleasantries dealt with, the teenager wasted no time exiting the vehicle and put on her backpack. Viola dipped her head to any other musicians she knew as every student went towards the auditorium for the opening ceremony. The teen didn’t pay any attention to her classmates around her as she sat in her department’s section, save for those who had played a musical instrument in the past. When the Headmistress, her long brown hair bright against her white dress suit, finished welcoming the students, they were dismissed to head to their first class. Heading to the third floor, Viola took the moment to see who else was walking the same way.
Hmm, seems Octavia Philharmonica will be gracing us with her presence once again, I’m not very surprised… Frederick Horszwoski is also here… Wait, what’s that? Is that… an orange foulard? Who in the world is wearing such an accessory with our school’s uniform colors of gray, dark gray and white?
Due to the density of the crowd, the pale teenager wasn’t able to make out more of the new person aside from long dark brown hair and the orange foulard that wrapped around her neck. The girl was several paces ahead of Viola, and it was to her slight dismay that such an eyesore color was heading towards the music room on the third floor. Upon reaching the correct floor level, the students began to divide themselves up to head for their needed rooms. Viola stopped trying to catch sight of the new girl and focused instead on the sign she was looking for.
Room… 302.. Here we are. Indeed, the usual musicians are here, though I shall continue to strive for perfection and reach the top… Wait, that girl is in the Music Department?
Viola’s train of thought came to a halt when she noticed the tall girl with orange foulard had gone to where the violins had began to assemble. As the new girl turned to head to the group, Viola noticed that she was much tanner than most of the other students along with piercing blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with excitement. The pale violinist’s breath left her with a silent whoosh, heat spreading from her center.
Who in the world-?
“Howdy y’all! Ah’m Fiona Buckner-Smith, and Ah sure am glad tah join y’all in this here fancy school!” After the violinists had stood together until instructions were given, Fiona had happily greeted her new classmates, friendly grin flashing over the lot.
Viola’s brows snapped downward with an almost audible click. The heat she had previously felt transferred to her cheeks where it sat in annoyance.
Oh please don’t tell me that is actually how she speaks...
“And just where is it you come from?” The chilly tone caused the other violinists to glance towards Viola with wide shocked eyes at the unfriendly tone.
“Well, Ah’m from Apploosa, but Ah don’t see what that has to do with…” Fiona frowned towards the pale girl, taking in her slim figure rapidly.
“That explains your accent… Though not how you got here. We’ll see whether or not you actually belong here.” After cutting the country girl off, Viola turned around to face the teacher who was assigning seats per section.
The middle aged woman went down the list, calling out names and chair numbers that were chosen based on their previous audition scores. Any new student was placed on the far right of their section where they would sit until they were tested. Fiona took her seat with a pensive frown, glancing to the far left where the smug unfriendly girl sat.
Golly, guess what they say about outsides not matchin’ the insides is right. Shame such a pretty girl is actin’ so high and mighty… The scarf wearing teen looked at the stacks of music sheets on the stand before her thoughtfully. Wait, now hang on Fiona. We can’t go assumin’ the worse of someone. Gotta give them a chance. Meanwhile Ah’ll show ‘em what Ah can do. Maybe they just think Ah’ll hold them all back… Ah’ll show them just how well Ah can keep up…
The sharp rapping of solid wood against metal drew everyone’s attention to the podium in the front of the classroom. The teacher set the baton down and waved to the blackboard behind her, brushing a lock of her long blonde hair behind one ear as she looked at the students.
“For those who are new this year, my name is Ms. DeCrème. I will be your teacher this year for the music department.” The teacher set her hands on the metal piece, the pale color stark against the black. “Most of you have been in this program for many years now, but in case summer vacation erased everything from your mind or if you are actually only just joining our esteemed department or even the academy as a whole, here is a reminder of what and how we do things in this class.”
Fiona gulped mutely. Her mind sent her sights to scour the room, hoping she wasn’t the only one to be unnerved by the severe tone. Most of the higher ranked musicians were at ease, almost bored with the lector. There were very few students who showed similar signs of worry. They held the lowest seats, and seemed more uneasy in their spots. A young flutist who was vastly shorter than the rest of her section showed the worse signs. Fiona frowned pensively before letting her eyes continue roaming.
When they reached back to her own instrument line, the southerner gave a small start at the deep scowl she found waiting for her from the girl in first chair. The sharp blue eyes stood out from under the curly brown hair. Fiona jerked back with a confused frown of her own. She slowly tore her sight away and focused back on the teacher who was describing how they each were going to be called up to sight read a piece of music and be judged for their seating accordingly. She also stressed how one could move up the line by challenging the next chair; she didn’t believe they were likely going to move within the first few months if not longer. Fiona tilted her head at the dismissive tone the teacher had and checked the other students. They too seemed confident, while the obviously newer members of the department were unsure about the assessment.
Viola glared at the orange foulard wearing girl, having watched her search the room before returning her sights to her own section. The first chair violinist stared down the new girl, willing her to focus back on the teacher. If this girl can’t keep up, she better be prepared for the consequences.
The experienced student turned half of her ear to the teacher, making sure the lecture hadn’t changed from the one they gotten last year. Pleased to hear nothing was different, she instead focused on stretching her fingers, her thoughts on the skills of the others in the section and their potential competitiveness. Aside from the new girl, I shouldn’t have any trouble staying at the top. From what I heard, Michelle had spent most of her holiday at the beach in Hawaiegh. The same one that Christophe was visiting. And the others were nowhere close to those two. This shouldn’t be too difficult at all.
Fiona peeked to see if she was still the target of a furious scowl and noticed the slim delicate hands flexing. Her brows twitched for a second before turning back to her own instrument she had luckily brought with her. It was an old family instrument, passed down through the musical farmer members, but it still sounded as mellow as ever. The tan country girl took out the instrument and ran through some of the more challenging cords as a warmup. She didn’t notice the sneers the upper chair members shot her. Ya got this, ya know you do. Considerin’ how long ya usually got to read the pieces, this should be a piece of apple pie.
When the southerner looked up from checking the fiddle, she was surprised to note that the flutes were already lined up along the wall waiting for their turn while the trumpets were lined up on the other side, heading for a different room. The other violinists had their instruments out and started for the last teacher aid. The curly brown haired girl was glaring again and walking briskly to the newest violinist.
Viola pointed straight into Fiona’s face while the rest of the section looked on. Her tone was firm as she wanted to be sure the country girl understood her place. “You’ll be going first since you’re new. My name is Viola, and I’m the section leader, so I suppose if you have any questions you can ask me.” The teen began to turn away with a roll of her eyes. “Hopefully it won’t be too many questions.”
Fiona stared pensively while the rest of the group started to follow the girl.
“Now hang on a cotton pickin’ moment, we ain’t finished gettin’ all the testing done. How do ya know yer not gonna be replaced?” The confidence the farm girl felt faltered for a second when seven pairs of eyes stared incredulously to her.
Some of the other violin players chuckled while Viola rolled her eyes again. The other sections weren’t paying any attention to the group of strings as they also started to get ready. She really talks like that… Has no one tried to help her improve her speech? That’s one of the many things that will hold her back.
“Because I’ve lead the violins for the past three years.” Viola furrowed her brows, the coldness increasing as she leaned closer for a second. “And, just so you know, the proper word is ‘aren’t’ not ‘ain’t’.”
The more country sounding word came out slowly, condescension in the entire sentence. Fiona blinked, confused about the sincerity of the ‘advice’, and followed silently. As the others continued to chuckle to themselves each time they looked to the newest violinist, the tan teenager decided that it wasn’t given with any actual friendship or concern. Sure is hard to think everyone could be nice folk when they act like that.
Soon the group gathered across the way from the flutists, more detached from the low murmur of the rest of the class. None of the other fiddle players spoke to the country girl. Not that Fiona cared too much. Her attention was captured by sharp glares in the opposing line along with low menacing tones. Some of the other flute players had turned on a small blonde girl who clutched her instrument close to her chest. Fiona looked around, trying to see if anyone else saw this going on, but the teacher aids were consulting their lists and any student who did see it either had approving smirks on their faces or looked bored by the whole thing. The tall teenager sighed and left her place in line, making a beeline for the trouble spot.
“Ya’d think members of the same band would be kinder to one another.” Fiona spoke up from the left of the petite blonde. The girl gave a start, breaking the staring contest she was having with the ground. Golden eyes sought out the speaker and connected with gentle sky blue orbs.
“Don’t ya think ‘bout any of these judgin’ folk. Ya like to play the flute?” The country gal leaned closer with a soft grin. The blonde nodded shyly. “Then ya close yer eyes and play like it’s just you in the room.”
Fiona tipped her head to the flutist and walked back into place at the end of the fiddle players. The flutists and her group were shocked, whispering to one another while the lead fiddle player glared bluntly at the newest member of her section.
These here kids don’t seem very nice at all… Fiona fingered some of her fiddle’s strings absentmindedly as she thought. Maybe they’re just nervous ‘bout the first day back and all…
-DC-
After everyone in the violin section was finished, the teacher aid quickly printed the seating results. Even as the other sections were still being tested, the violinists checked the posting. Fiona waited patiently behind the others since they had seniority. Suddenly, a shout was heard over the din.
“What!? How is she second chair?!?”
The ex-apple farmer frowned in worry as the delicate tones, shrill as they were in the shout, seemed to come from her section leader. Before she could check, a teacher aid beat her to the front.
“Ms. Krauss, please control yourself and keep your volume down. You may disturb the current testers.”
The brunette flung an arm out towards the scarf wearing girl. The motion was so strong and fierce that Fiona almost felt the point.
“How did SHE get second chair?! She’s only just got here!” Viola was rapidly losing her composure as Fiona changed from confused and worried to smugly pleased.
The rest of the section remained silent, watching with wide eyes as Fiona step forward.
“Ah earned that there chair just like everyone else earned theirs.” She stared bemused as an eyelid twitched on the other girl’s face.
“‘The chair’ not ‘that there chair’, you peasant farmer.” Viola muttered just loud enough to be heard by the other girl. Fiona reared back as though she had been slapped before leaning forward, opening her mouth for a fiery retort. The adult present prevented any more from being said, however.
“It’s what was decided. Besides, you should know how chair placement changes through the year.” The aid waved her hands before the two girls with a firm tone.
The high class teen huffed and crossed her own arms. Fiona rolled her eyes at the action. Without saying anything to the section leader and giving a tiny nod to the teacher aid, she retrieved her supplies and moved to her new chair. Viola steadily ignored the second chair while the third chair violinist turned to talk with the boy to her right. Fiona fingered her bow as she checked on the rest of the band. Half of the students were speaking to one another, the other half studiously ignored the world around them and a sparse few had the nervous look of new students. Fiona, feeling her shoulders start to sag, sat up straighter instead, gaze on the far way and not on the scornful eyes of the violinists on either side.
“Yeah mom, Ah’m fine.” The brunette country girl rubbed at her temple as she spoke on her flip phone. Her blue eyes shut tightly. A deep voice in the far background shouted something that came across mostly as static.
“Hun, your dad wants to be sure that ya haven’t -”
“Yes mom, Ah haven’t had someone other than me spend the night, Ah’ve only been here for one day!” Fiona waved her right hand even though her mother couldn’t see it. Her gaze, cloudy with distraction, swept the minimal apartment, barely lingering on the few objects placed around the room.
The teenager paced in front of the second hand light-green couch situated a little closer towards the door then the center of the small living room. Resting against the wall across from the entrance was a coffee table with a computer tower resting on the small shelf underneath. Sitting on top, connected to the older computer, was a small, flat screen tv.
“You never know Sweetie, love can blossom at any time. Even suddenly.” The older woman’s voice held a hint of teasing hidden gentle curiosity.
Icy blue eyes, full of fire and liveliness, flashed before Fiona’s inner eye. She exhaled dismissively. “Mom, ya gotta be kiddin’ me! Trust me, nothin’ like that happened today.” The girl did another lap around the green furniture.
“Was everythin’ ok? Meet anyone nice…?” Kat trailed off uncertainly.
Fiona opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t say anything. The first thing that popped into her mind was to lie. Except that Smiths didn’t lie. But what if she says Ah should just go home…? Do Ah give up…?
“Fiona…?” The call was soft that was quickly overshadowed by a concerned male voice that was much closer to the speaker this time.
“Did somethin’ happen? SUGAR PIE, DOES DAD HAVE TAH GO ‘TALK’ WITH SOMEONE?!?!”
The teenager bit back a groan at her overprotective father while her mother scolded him herself.
“GO ON! Don’t ya worry, Ah’ll get to the bottom of this!” A few seconds went by before silence came back to the other end. “Fiona, what happened?”
The country teen went into her bedroom and spun around to flop backwards to the rickety bed. The half open closet showed half full while several suitcases waited nearby. No one spoke as the girl worked her jaw around the truth. When she did start to speak, her breathing hitched as she flung an arm over her eyes.
“Oh mom… These kids just ain’t friendly at all!”
“Oh Sweetie…”
“Ah was tryin’ mom, Ah was! But this one girl was just meaner than a rattlesnake that had no sleep for a month!” The teen tried and failed to keep the sob from breaking free. A soothing coo came from the phone.
“Oh dear… It’ll be ok, it’ll be ok…” The motherly voice continued to try and calm the distressed violinist. “Maybe it was just the first day? Is there anythin’ Ah can do hun…? Would ya want to see how things go or just come on home…?”
The question of giving up set a flair of anger in the teen. Fiona’s heart and breath stopped. Sitting up, she scrubbed at the tear tracks on her cheeks. “N-no! Ah… Ah don’t want to give up.”
There was a moment of silence, though she could feel her mom smiling proudly.
“Alright. Let’s see how school goes. If ya ever need something, ya just let us know.”
The country girl sniffled with a small smile. “Yes mom, Ah’ll remember…”
The apartment fell silent once more.
“How was the rest of yer day sugar?” Kat tentatively asked of her daughter, hoping for positive events. Fiona took a breath to stop the rest of her tears and cast her mind to the rest of the day.
“It weren’t so bad…”
A limousine door slammed shut followed immediately by the front entrance of the small mansion bursting open. The posh family gathered in the expansive living room looked towards the source of the noise. Viola didn’t pause or show any remorse at her entrance, even with both of her parents staring at her incredulously. The young lad stuffed his fist into his mouth to stem the laughter that was bubbling up at the sight of his sister red faced and huffing angrily.
“What has gotten into you young lady?!” Hilda scolded from her chair near the fireplace resting on the far wall. Across from her, on the other side of the lit fire sat Viktor, who looked up from his fresh newspaper in the middle of settling down for the evening.
“Some country hick has taken second chair!” Viola closed her eyes as she nearly shouted the news. She opened her gaze after the exclamation and waited in the archway.
“Now Viola, that is not the kind of language we use.” Viktor sternly warned his daughter as his wife nodded silently.
Anthony sat up in his seat, using the chance to put down his text book as he stared at his sister. “Did she beat you at playing?”
The other adults in the room froze, curious of the answer, while the maid waiting in the corner peeked out the corner of her eye. Viola snorted daintily and crossed her arms, allowing the rest of her body to relax.
“Of course not! There was no way some fresh off the farm, ugh, ‘country girl’, was going to beat years of training and practice.” Viola stepped into the room at last with a haughty smirk.
She gave a quick peck to her mother’s and father’s forehead before turning around and ruffling her brother’s hair. He playfully glared back, sticking out his tongue, until a deep cough reminded him of the book sitting in his lap. The teen pulled her backpack off and handed it over to the maid who stepped forward at precisely the correct time. While she took a seat, Viola noticed that her mother was still watching her even as the men in the household went back to their literature.
“That’s good. I would hate to hear how years of working with the best tutors and teachers affordable was beaten by some rueb from the countryside.”
“Darling…” The low grumble came from behind the newspaper which was answered by a wave of a hand and eye rolls.
“Yes, yes darling.. I know how you are about what we use to describe others. How about we hear for ourselves just how bad this ‘transfer student’ is?” The older woman looked back expectantly towards her daughter who went still as her mind thought to the new student.
Flowing dark brown hair cascaded down the stocky and solid back, still muscular from living everyday on a farm, flashed into Viola’s mind. She scowled as determined and stubborn sky blue eyes stared firmly back in her inner gaze. “Well, you won’t believe the way she talks! And she was having trouble even on the first day of school with our level of academics…!”
The day was just as warm as it had been the last couple weeks. The ring of the school bell echoed through the well-kept halls. It was barely heard in the large orchestra room, as it was meant to be soundproof.
Viola smugly sat in her first chair, instrument ready to go while some of the lesser professional players were only just beginning to set up. At the last second, the second chair violinist raced through the door. The upper class teen watched, brows furrowed, as the country girl wiped at her brow, chest heaving with the effort. Viola watched, eyes scrunched in thought.
Fiona looked about the room, smiling pleasantly to the flutist sitting a few seats up from the last chair. Viola noticed this action and furrowed her brows even further, feeling a lick of anger rising up inside. Once the orange foulard wearing girl was within hearing range, she snarled.
“I’m surprised you stayed, considering how we demonstrated what it truly is like to be in the Celestia's Royal Academy Music Department.” Viola found an eye roll awaiting for her. She glared in return. “I don’t know why you bother learning about the other sections; either you or the most of the others are going to be gone before long.”
Strong blue orbs rolled again before the farmer smirked, leaning closer. “Ah’m pretty sure Ah’d win that bet. Why don’t ya wait a little longer, and we’ll see who lasts.” Fiona set her supplies down and walked to the small blonde girl, striking up a conversation.
The leader of the violins scowled, annoyance rushing through her fingertips. She curled them, staring at them before looking up once more, shock flashing in her mind. The tan girl had moved on from talking with the flute player and was talking with the assistant teacher. Viola continued watching, eyes narrowed.
“What was all that about?!”
“Why, Ah’m challengin’ ya.” Fiona crossed both arms, smirking wide.
“WHAT!?!” Viola jumped up from her seat half shouting.
“Eeeyup!”
The pale-white teen jerked back, blinking rapidly at the response. "That is NOT a word!" She finally managed to gasp out, exclaiming the first thing that came to mind. After the statement, the rest of her issues burst forth, fueled by the angry furrow the other girl now wore. “You…! You haven’t been here that long! How could possibly be ready to challenge me?!”
“That's what ya think; Ah’m gonna prove all y’all that ya ain’t the best. It won't take much to become the best of the whole of ya lot if they all play like you do.” The country gal continued smiling, only to stop when the other section members laughed.
“That’s the most foolish thing I have ever heard!” Viola was among those laughing. She also crossed her arms, staring down her nose that was flung high into the air. “You will NEVER be the best. Octavia Philharmonica is the best. She has always been the best.” A pale white hand pointed to a girl with long dark hair, sitting at the head of the cellos, undisturbed by the ruckus over in the violin section. "Also, it's 'you all' or 'all of you', not 'y'all'."
Fiona squinted her eyes briefly at the correction, brushing it under the rug for the moment. She continued to frown and looked at the others who had gathered around while the teachers were just setting up. They nodded in agreement, quietly accepting the fact.
“Y’all sound like yer never gonna get better, and with that attitude, yer not. Ya don’t play with any soul. Yer heart’s too cold.” The tan violinist leaned towards the current first chair player, jabbing towards her with her pointer finger. “Yer gonna lose that way no matter what if ya keep thinkin' and playin' like that.”
The rest of the section was stunned. Mouths open wide, they barely heard the aids telling the students to get into place. The teacher came out, holding a list of names grouped in twos. In moments, a small selection of pairs standing up at the call, heading for the small side rooms where they competed for the higher ranking chair. The two violinists were among those called up.
-DC-
Everyone got their results immediately afterwards. The two violinists waited by the teacher aid; Fiona at ease and confident while Viola frowned in concern. When they pointed to the country girl as the winner, the highbrow teen shouted in frustration.
“No! No! How could she have beaten me?!”
“Told ya, ya don’t play with yer heart. You ain’t gonna win against me, no matter how ‘fancy’ a place ya live in.” The foulard wearing girl smirked, crossing her arms and turning about to take her new seat.
Viola gave in to the urge to scream incoherently. “And you will never last at Celestia's Royal Academy; your hick mind can’t possibly keep up the grades you need to stay! And it's 'isn't' not 'ain't'!” Taking a tiny amount of joy from the angrily hurt face of the ‘new’ first chair, she turned to face the aid, disregarding the disapproving face she found there. “I demand another challenge! Immediately!”
The aid grabbed the bridge of her nose, exhaling gustily. “This is going to be a long year…” She muttered before speaking up louder. “You can’t re-challenge someone on the same day as the new results. You’ll have to wait a day. Sign up in the morning.”
Viola was about to scream once more but instead took a deep breath, clenching her fists and closing her eyes. It was the laughter from the rest of the band that brought her to her senses. She found the rest of the violin section in shock while the band themselves watched amused from their places. She stomped her way to her new place, glaring out of the corner of her eye. She found a sharp blue gaze looking just as furious towards her.
This means WAR!
The new leader of the violins fought her blush of embarrassment at being the center of ridicule from the other students. She looked around the room and found that there were a few who didn’t share in this ‘amusement’. Settling in place, she curled and uncurled her fingers around the neck of her fiddle.
Ah ain’t giving up… No matter what they say… Or how they act. Ah ain’t giving up. Fiona peeked once more to the fiddler on her right and found angry cold blues waiting. She hardened her gaze as pain rushed through her chest at what had been said moments ago. And Ah ain’t ever gonna be friends with that prissy little snob!
