Impeccably dressed in a suit and tie, a musician sat center stage, illuminated by the lights above, and glancing nervously at the judges. He nervously, fiddled with the rotors and strings on the valves of his French horn, waiting to start and get this audition over with. He looked over at Alfred who gave him an encouraging smile.

Matthew Williams was a graduating senior this year, and as someone with no money and no one to rely on for money, besides his older brother Alfred, who could barely scrape together barely enough on minimum wage to send home a monthly check, he knew that in high school he'd have to find something he was good at and stick with it. Since he started band in fifth grade, he figured it wouldn't hurt to master his instrument and continue playing hockey to get a scholarship at Samwell University, the long time rivals of University of Washington. He had already been accepted for a hockey scholarship. Even though Matthew wasn't as largely built as the average hockey player, his speed, grace, and sheer determination had ensured him a scholarship at Samwell. Even though his father Francis could've gotten him a free scholarship there, as he was the band director, Matthew never wanted anything from him, even getting angered when Francis had offered to give him free tuition, and a free slot in the band.

Also Alfred kept bugging him to join the band stating that "the other French Horns aren't as badass as my little bro."

At this point, he was auditioning for the college's symphony orchestra. Even if he had hated band in high school, he loved playing his instrument, with its warm, round tone, so he found himself at the university's performing arts center ready to (hopefully) blow away the judges.

"Hello," said the meaner looking judge. Matthew felt like her gray eyes were piercing his skin as if she was already deciding whether or not he would make it in.

He swallowed thickly.

"State your name, school, piece and accompanist."

Matthew spoke loudly so the judges would hear. "Hi, I'm Matthew Williams and I am from Auburn Mountainview High School. Today I am playing Nocturno Op. 7 and my accompanist is Alfred F. Jones."

"Alright start when you're ready." All of the judges got comfortable, pens ready to write and eyes trained on him.

Normally having all eyes on him would make Matthew uncomfortable. He usually went unnoticed, having a knack at being invisible, that is, until he picked up his instrument. Everyone noticed him when he played his instrument.

Alright Williams, this is your way to prove to Francis that you don't need his free hand outs.

Matthew tucked his long, curly, golden hair behind his ears and nervously adjusted his tie. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather his nerves.

Remember that key change. Don't forget to nail that partial change, D to F is easy, and keep up with the tempo….

He opened his eyes, determination making his eyes a darker shade than the normal light violet color. The senior turned to the stand holding his music, and he took a breath as he brought the mouthpiece to his lips.

1..2..3..4..1..2..Ready..Go

The musician breathed through his instrument, warming the metal, creating a tone that flowed smoothly through a crescendo up to a booming forte and flowed down into a piano. He treated the horn like an extension of his soul.

He needed every phrase with care and his legato tounging was as smooth as silk.

As he went further into the piece he began to truly feel the music, and started rocking slowly with it, his body moving forward with a volume increase and moving back as he quieted again. He moved more as the piece transitioned into its more intense lines, marcatos and forte pianos replacing the legato and the soft dynamic change, filling the air with a strong, pure tone.

Alfred played his piano part with accuracy and impeccable timing, his ten second mini solo giving Matthew the introduction for his next set of phrases. The song began to slow and soften gradually as Matthews cheeks began to ache, the intensity fading.

The final phrase ended and his note was accentuated with a soft piano gliss.

It's over thank god, Matthew thought nervously as he placed his French horn gently in his lap. He looked over to Alfred who gave him two thumbs and flashed him a smile.

"Alright then. We have the performance recorded and we jot down anything we had to say about it on own clipboards," said the woman judge in a monotone voice. "We'll tell you if you got in soon enough. You may go now, thank you." The judges began getting up and leaving

"Oh umm," started Matthew, "How will I know if I made it? Are you guys gonna send an email, or call, or ….?"

The judges didn't seem to hear him and they continued until they all left.

"Wait I- ugh darn it." Matthew knew that she wouldn't notice him after he finished performing so he just let it go.

Alfred can up behind him. "Don't worry Mattie, he said, "They're going to send you a letter in the mail probably within a couple of weeks since auditions are due in a couple of weeks. That's how they did it with me."

"Oh Maple, Al how do you think I did? I might've played a couple of wrong notes, the key changes had me kinda messed up and I didn't shape my lines as well as I did during practice yesterday and I don't know i made smart decisions in my expression of the piece and what of my marcatos in measure 72 weren't goodenoughimean-"

"Dude shut up. Do even know who that lady was?"

"No."

"Okay well, she was in the wind ensemble on French horn when I was a freshman and her name is Julia Cartwright. She is one of the best fucking French horn players to ever walk the halls of this school. I kept checking her face while you played and she-"

"Oh shit, she hated it didn't she," Matthew said anxiously, "God dammit I should've went with the Tchaikovsky or-"

Alfred covered Matthew's mouth with his hand. "Dude shut up you're worse than I am sometimes with the interrupting EW DID YOU LICK MY HAND? YOU'RE GETTING IT NOW YOU PUNK."

The two scuffled for a little bit until Alfred yelled, "Okay seriously I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU SOMETHING."

Matthew giggled. " Alright, alright you big baby, I'm not trying to see you pout all day so hurry up and finish that though," he teased.

"Well, what I was about to say, before you rudely interrupted me," Alfred teasingly glared at him, " She looked crazy impressed man. I mean like, 'My title as the best French Horn player could definitely get threatened.' Not that she looked mad about it though she seemed to really enjoy the shit you put out today."

Alfred patted Matthew on the head. "Good horn players are rare dude, so anyone would've been impressed."

Alfred continued talking about how excited he was about his lil bro joining the symphony as they walked off stage. Matthew was only half listening, but then he noticed a shockingly white head of hair in the audience. Focusing on the owner of that hair, he could see a face staring at him full on. Matthew blushed, suddenly self conscious; no one besides Alfred ever really noticed him, so having someone look at him like that was strange.

Before the brother left, he looked back and the man was Huh? How did he go so fast?

"...You're gonna love our band so much Mattie, it's huge and Papa, as shitty as a dad he is is a crazy good band director, and you'll finally have a section, except now you'll have to fight for solos, but-"

Matthew put a finger to his older brother's lips. " Shhhh. You're rambling Al." Matthew stopped in his tracks and sighed. "I have to make it through senior year before worrying about the audition. Not to mention that I still have to worry about hockey; that's where my scholarship is coming from anyways."

"Okay true but you did INSANELY GOOD ANYWAYS." Alfred grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders and shook him with every syllable.

Before Matthew began walking again, Alfred stopped him and hesitantly he asked, " You know Papa could have gotten you into the band without auditioning. In fact, he could've gotten you free tuition for all four years." Alfred continued quickly so Matthew couldn't cut him off.

"I don't get why you're busting your ass for a 4.0, hockey, band, and the billion extracurriculars you don't need when you chose to go to Samwell, which you could have gotten in for free."

Irritated, Matthew began to storm off, his mood quickly souring.

"Mattie wait! C'mon you can't get mad about this I was just cur-"

"Don't," He replied, shortly.

Okay yeah, Matthew got it. It made no sense that he overworked himself to get into a college his sort-of estranged father worked at and then reject said estranged father's offer to get him in for free.

Alfred doesn't get it. Samwell had always been my first choice for college anyways. It's not my fault stupid Francis works there. Ugh it's just like my brother to be awesome one minute and a douche the next. the younger sibling thought angrily.

" Dude wait! I take it back it doesn't matter okay, we don't have to talk about it okay?"

Matthew stopped but didn't turn around.

"Obviously I pissed you off, so to make up for making a good day kinda lame, let me treat you to lunch."

Matthew turned around, pretending to think hard about it to make his brother squirm a little. He wasn't trying to make a big deal out of this so he was ready to let this go anyways.

"C'mon dude, there's this really nice burger place. Indulge me a little, pretty please?" Alfred began to approach him, batting his baby blue eyes.

Matthew teasingly glared at him. "I swear if you say McDonald's, I'll punch you."

Alfred grabbed his younger sibling's wrist and began dragging him to the enterance. "Mattie this isn't high school. With age, comes the maturing of taste buds you dummy." He turned back to look at Matthew, and with a mischievous grin he declared, "We're going to Dick's!"

Sniggering, Matthew replied, saying, "Of course you are since you love to eat dick."

"Yeah yeah shut up you twerp and let's get going!" Alfred starting sprinting, dragging his younger brother to the car, the both of them lightly scuffling and laughing.

Hi guys! So this is my first fanfic ever. This is going to be a College Band AU! and I'm going to try to fit as many characters and ships here as possible. This fic is gonna be like 90% Prucan , 5% FACE family angst (though not too much) and like 5% all other ships. Other ships will be hinted at and just in the background.

So Samwell University doesn't exist, but because I love Seattle so much I decided to just make it up. I know some of you are gonna be like why didn't you just use UW and the reason is that they actually don't have that great of a band. They're okay though (sorry all my peeps who go to UW). Samwell is going to be located near Gas Works parks, and like UW, they're going to have out of this world art programs and science programs. In fact I'm thinking of making Samwell and UW rivals in everything (and maybe I'll make their rival band at UW the 2p!s but we'll see).

Also as a band kid myself, I will try to keep the band stuff as accurate as possible but that means I'm going to use a ton of music terminology. Who knows, maybe I'll convince some of you to join a band wherever you are :)

I'll try updating like once every two weeks at least but please don't be alarmed if i take longer to update.

Okay also, I made a tumblr blog for this story because I barely go on desktop ffnet, so if you have questions please send me a message there (I'll have the link in my bio )

Music Terms:

Crescendo: a gradual increase in loudness in a piece of music

Decrescendo: a gradual decrease in loudness in a piece of music

Marcato: Strong accent on a note, makes it POP (think toot as opposed to doo), and it harshly detaches a note from the others

Staccato: soft accent on a note (think doot instead of doo), lightly detaches a note from the others

Legato: Notes are connected (think doooo instead of doo), but they are not in a slur or tie

Phrase: a musical sentence, usually four measures long (you can breathe in a phrase only inbetween them)

Shape: a combination of volume changes and articulation that gives the music a "shape" (like if a phrase is loud and has lots of marcatos it could be "fat")

Partials (only for brass instruments): Since brass instrument (except trombone who has a slide) have like three or four keys, sometimes instead of having to change our fingerings when playing, we have to jump partials (fatser/ more air make the note higher). It's not a big deal on any instrument except french horn. That's actually one of the reasons French Horn is so damn hard to play, because we have like 8 different notes between partials, so sometimes you want to play a certain note and it come out wrong a lot (unless you're realy good like me B)) unlike other brass instruments which only have like three at most (fucking weak)

Thanks for reading! Please R&R!