Chapter 21 - The Music Competition:
(Third person's POV)
Early, so early that it could be called night, a figure holding two ropes was taking a cautious, sneaky look out of a window on the second floor of the Beilschmidt residence. Satisfied that no one seemed to be out, and no one whom could see her sneaking out, Elizaveta slowly made her way out of the window and on to the branch. Once she was securely on it, she hurriedly made her way across it, around the stem, tying one of the ropes around it, then across the branch leasing towards her window where she eased hersekf into her own bedroom, balking on the fact that her parents were unlikely to check upon her; all the while holding the two ropes in a tight line.
The purpose of the two ropes? Well, one was for holding onto when climbing in and out of windows, and the other, which she was now, like the first, fastening to just above her window...
Gilbert, whom had kept an eye out for Elizaveta, while at the same time kept an eye on her, and on her ass, placed a hook at his end of the rope, before fastening a basket of Eliza's birthday presents and sending them on their way. The basket rather gently met the stem of the three without dropping its contents and continuing on its merry way to her window, hidden from the world by the bushiness of the three. And the only way you could've seen it was at wintertime, or looking out of the windows of either Gilbert or Eliza's bedrooms.
Although it was the weekend before the dsy of Elizaveta's birthday (which was at 20th August), Eliza was still going to wait until the next day with putting all her presents away; it was that late.
Later that week
(Antonio's POV)
-What do you think, Antonio?
-What? Sorry, what was that amigos? I'd been too occupied in staring at Lovi's curl, to be listening to what anyone was saying.
-You were being asked about which song we should sing, now that The Nordic 5 chose to cover Hero by Skillet. Gilberto answered.
-Oh. We could try one of the romantic songs we've also rehearsed on?
-Which one? Francis wanted to know. Poor amigo, he was so tired that he didn't remark that I wanted something romantic. He'd been up half the night texting (or sexting, for all I knew) his boyfriend.
There was an ongoing bet on how long they would stick together. Some said not another month, others thought graduation, them there were people like Gilberto and Liz whom thought forever.
Either way, it was hard to believe that someone as shy as... Matthew, could be with someone so... expressive as Francis.
(Francis' POV)
I was so tired that I actually wanted Mathieu to come with a can of that affreux American Red Bull to me. I supposed I only had myself to blame for being tired. But it had been too tempting not to flirt-text with Mathieu last night. Not sexting, that we did the night before last. So, the discussion on what other song we should sing, didn't take as much time as we normally used.
As we made our way to the stage, for our turn to sing, dear, sweet Mathieu came with the Red Bull he just knew I'd wanted.
Ah, would I ever get used to the shining angel that was my Mathieu, and that I could call him mine?
(Arthur's POV)
-That was The Nordic 5, with the song Hero, originally by Skillet. And now, The Bad Touch Trio, with...
I felt truly, deeply, sorry for Eduoard von Beck. Being the one obligated to announce the bands at the Academy's Music Competition, wasn't exactly something anyone in their right mind would like to do. But someone had to. And Eduoard had been chosen for this task; the only plus side being that Francis had agreed to wear clothes.
I felt someone tap me on the arm. It was Raivis. Ever since I'd been elected as Student Council President, he'd warmed up around me. He was still nervous and shy around me, but at least he'd stopped trembling like an early autumn leaf whenever he talked to me.
-Excuse me, Arthur, Sir, but could you be so kind as to explain the Music Competition for me? I'm not sure if I quite grasp it. That is, if you don't mind?
-Not at all. Everyone who wants to join the Music Competition must get permission from the Emissary. This is usually conducted by the person or persons auditioning for him or her. The Emissary just chooses those who can play a clean note. It has, or shouldn't have, anything to do with what kind of music they're playing. After they've been selected, the bands can choose to play original songs, or cover songs. Most bands choose to cover songs, because it's easier than to come up with good original songs. The bands also get recommended to lear more than one song when choosing cover songs, since there's a chance that someone else has chosen the same song. Then, the bands play at the Music Competition. The listeners and the viewers, us, then vote for the band we liked best. That band will then compete against the other schools in the Reginbal Music Competition. This Competition is judged by five judges. Whomever they pick as winner goes to the State Music Competition. There the contestants get voted on by members of the public. The winner of that, goes on to the National Music Competition. There both the public and judges decide who's going to become the ultimate winner. This process, from our Music Competition to the National Music Competition takes some time, years in fact.
-Your punk classic band almost didn't make it to the State Music Competition because of the judges not liking you, correct?
-Yes, Black Magick. I ignored the slight insult, I'd plenty of training in doing that, and thought with satisfaction about the name. Since we couldn't call our club that, because of stupid superstitions, we, Lukas, Irina and I, had decided to name our band that instead. Which is why we're not part of this years' Music Competition.
-How are you going to get there?
-Oh, hr. William Beilschmidt offered to drive us there. Mr. Vargas, Roma, offered too, but you know, his driving.
We both shared a shudder. It was common knowledge that the Vargas family, those who could drive, were terrible drivers.
(Elizaveta's POV)
Damn it! I was late for Gil and his band's performance! I hadn't meant to, it was just that the video from the second floor's broom closet had been so... interesting. While I held my handkerchief (a birthday gift from my mother) to my nose to stop the nosebleed, I was grateful that I'd convinced Gil not to... demonstrate his flexibilities there. Instead we had taken the fifth floor's north wing's broom closet. Just thinking about it, made my insides and lower regions heat up, my noseblood evaporated, and I broke out in a grin. Still grinning, I stepped inside the auditorium. The stifling heat that were the whole student body population, more or less, all stuck in one place, had nothing on the heat that was in me now. Which could account for why I didn't hear the conversation between Arthur and Raivis (whom is so cute!), except for;
-Yes, Black Magick. Which is why we're not part of this years' Music Competition.
-How are you going to get there?
-Oh, hr. William Beilschmidt offered to drive us there. Mr. Vargas, Roma, offered to, but you know, his driving.
I shuddered. I don't think anyone, except his family, liked to drive with Roma.
I'm glad I overheard Arthur and Raivis talking. It made me snap enough out of my reminiscing to concentrate on The Bad Touch Trio. Just in time for Gil's solo. As always, it was perfect, although I was never going to reveal that to him. It wasn't the song they'd practised last time I heard them. Someone else must've chosen Hero. Still, it was a sweet, romantic song, and I couldn't avoid the way Antonio was glancing over at Lovino. Lovino, on the other hand, tried his hardest not to look too long at Antonio. Which were just another proof that people (well, some) were finally having their wants and needs synchronized. Or to put it in other words.
Oh, things were so going my way. I couldn't have been happier.
Author's notes:
Translation:
Spanish;
Amigos = friends
Amigo = friend
French;
Affreux = hideous
I don't know how it's with real world School Music Competitions, but I've chosen to do it like this. I don't own Hetalia.