A/N Part two of the competition. Enjoy and thank you for reviewing!
Matthew's face was still red when he and Gilbert arrived at the bulletin board where a huge crowd was eagerly awaiting the results of the previous round.
"I can't believe you said that in front of my family," he groaned, letting go of Gilbert's hand to cover his face with his own hands. Gilbert shrugged.
"It's true."
"That––"
Gilbert was spared whatever response Matthew had started when a festival employee put his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly to get everybody's attention.
"Okay, guys! We've got the results right here," he paused to tap the large pieces of poster board under his arm and let the crowd cheer a little, "and we're going to put them up over there," he pointed at the bulletin board once the noise died down, "so all of you clear away for a bit while I put these up and then you can go closer for a better look. After they're up, finalists, report to the main auditorium immediately; non-finalists, you can either stay to watch the rest of the competition or leave." The crowd backed away, clearing a small path for the employee to get to the board, where he used a staple gun to quickly put up the lists. All of the competitors surged forward, all desperately looking for their names. Each of the boards had part of the list of the soloists and groups who'd made the final round on them in large letters; it didn't take long for the crowd to start dispersing, some crying in disappointment when they saw that they had not made it to the last round.
Gilbert and Matthew were on the edge of the crowd, so it took a few minutes before they could get close enough to read their quartet's name on the list. Matthew let out a sigh of relief and Gilbert merely smirked.
"All right, Mattie! Let's go awesomely win this thing!" he declared before grabbing him by the hand again and starting off toward the auditorium.
Whereas the previous rounds of the competition had taken place in the smaller, less-used stages spread out around the campus, this final round took place in the largest, most state-of-the-art one. The musicians all gathered backstage, where Matthew and Gilbert finally found Francis, who now had a rather bruised throat, and Antonio after having had retrieved their instruments from the provided lockers. There was a fifteen minute break for tuning and some final instructions before the last round finally began.
There were a total of twenty-five performances for the last round, so it would last at least an hour, most likely more. The order was again random, and Matthew simply sat backstage, attempting to concentrate on the other performances to distract himself from his own nervousness. The first few performances were all excellent, yet as one boy took the stage, Matthew's attention was immediately captured.
The student had dark brown hair woven into dreadlocks and dark skin that suggested Hispanic heritage; he held a guitar in his hands lovingly as he exited the backstage area and disappeared from sighed. The commentator introduced the musician, Alvarez García, and the piece he was playing, one that Matthew had never heard before. Yet none of this was what had captured his attention; it was only when Alvarez began to play that Matthew realized he was listening to something special.
The music was beautiful; not simply because it was well played, but because it almost felt as if the guitar was alive. The notes flowed forth as if the instrument was a part of Alvarez's body, as if it were his very voice. The naturalness and calmness of the piece struck Matthew as incredibly beautiful; the slow, tranquil notes which climbed and sank in their pace and pitch came together, forming a beautiful sound that, when it ended, left the audience momentarily stunned before they burst into applause. Matthew knew that Alvarez had just played a winning piece.
Two groups performed after Alvarez, though each group had a distinct drop in quality and passion in comparison to Alvarez. Most of the musicians now looked terrified that the bar had been set so high; only a few musicians, besides the Quartet, still looked confident. The next performance that caught Matthew's attention was a duo, one of the few groups left that still looked confident, and contained some of the few females in the room. The two girls looked very similar, leading Matthew to assume that they were sisters. As their names were called, they took the stage with confidence, one girl empty-handed, a piano player, and the other carrying a violin. Their piece was introduced, along with their names, Elise and Emma Janssens.
Their piece began and Matthew found himself caught up in the cheerful music. The piano notes came out light and airy, in perfect time with the violin's staccato notes. The two sisters were neatly in synch and their instruments were handled quite expertly. They were better than most of the other musicians present in the final round. However, in comparison to Alvarez, they were still lacking. They would most likely place, Matthew decided, but at the lower end of the ranks, possibly fifth, or fourth. Their piece ended and they were applauded.
The next musician Matthew was sure would win something came directly after the sister duo, the Chinese erhu player from earlier, Yao. His name was called and he took the stage with his erhu. His piece, The Moon Reflected on the Er-Quan, was introduced along with his name and his piece began.
It was a slow one. The notes came forth quietly and serenely, the pace establishing a soft, slightly melancholic tone, bits and pieces of it bringing in moments of joy and danger. More so than the guitar performance had been simply beautiful, this piece emitted feeling. Even though he was unfamiliar with the instrument, Matthew could feel the changes in pace and feeling as the bow crossed the strings, the strokes echoing the emotions that had struck the composer as he had pieced together the music. Again, Matthew was certain he had heard one of the pieces that would win, and again, there was a huge confidence drop in the room, one which was starting to affect Matthew. The Bad Touch Quartet was very good, but so were many of the other musicians.
More performances followed, ones that were good, but didn't come close to the guitar piece and the erhu solo. That was until one boy's name was called and he stood, visibly trembling as he picked up his cello and carried it onstage, bowing his head so that his shoulder-length brown hair covered his face and kept him hidden from view. He was introduced as Toris Lorinaitis and his piece was announced, the prelude to Bach's fifth cello suite. Matthew was briefly aware of what an appropriate piece it was for such a frightened and lonely looking person before Toris began to play and all other thoughts were wiped from his mind.
This piece, too, was slow, but it carried neither the soft tranquility of the guitar piece nor the tender feeling from the erhu. The music coming from this boy was raw and dark, the notes spilling forth like blood from an open wound. It was clear that the musician was connected to the piece on an even higher level than Yao had been. Just by listening, Matthew felt as if the music weren't merely something pretty, something played to win a competition, but an expression of something deeply personal, something that he could never let out except through the cello. The music and its tone resonated in Toris, the depressing music expressing an experience no one in the room could possibly guess at, but were still able to sense. Matthew felt deeply shaken just from listing to the boy pour his soul out through his cello and dread filled him as he realized that Toris had played the best piece so far and quite possibly the best piece of the entire competition.
Matthew felt a cold dread slowly overtake him as panic set in. How could they possibly hope to win now? Their piece wasn't nearly good enough; they didn't even come close to the skill shown by the cellist. If he allowed himself a brief moment of vanity, Matthew would agree that The Bad Touch Quartet was better than most of the other performers here; they had more skill than most of the other finalists, yet they were distinctly lacking in the emotional connection to both the piece and the instrument that had defined Alvarez, Yao, and Toris as winners.
Matthew was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even realize Toris had finished to thunderous applause and the next performance had also passed. He was only pulled from his thoughts when it was finally their turn to perform and Gilbert gently laid a hand on his shoulder and informed him so.
"It'll be all right," he said softly as he squeezed Matthew's shoulder, uncharacteristically serious. Matthew stood up on legs that shook beneath him and clutched at his violin for support before taking a deep breath.
They had practiced this piece nearly a hundred times. He knew it well and all they could do now was play their best and pray that that was enough to maybe place. Whatever happened, whether they won or lost, at least he had reconciled with his family. That meant more to him than any trophy or award. With this new resolve, Matthew stood a little straighter and followed his friends onstage. Their piece was introduced and Matthew raised his bow to the strings of his violin, his hand steady at the familiar stance. After a beat, they all began with an unspoken sign.
Matthew played, the familiar music soothing his nervousness. His fingers moved up and down the fingerboard of the violin, pressing down on the strings as the bow moved back and forth. Their piece was much more cheerful than many of the other pieces played; it reminded Matthew of Gilbert. The quick movements followed by brief moments of slow seriousness matched his lover's personality perfectly. It was fitting; it was because of him that Matthew was here today. Meeting Gilbert had been the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Before he knew Gilbert, he had been quiet, shy, and had let people step all over him and have their way. After meeting him, after befriending him, he had gained so much. He had gained confidence and some aggressiveness; he was still overall a quiet person, but he no longer let things lie still when they angered him. He lived much more for himself now, rather than others. He had given up on the band and the instrument that he had never cared about. He had given up on hiding what he was from others. He had given up everything that was making his life miserable before that fated detention back in September. Matthew was his own person now; he did what he wanted, what made him happiest, and that was a change he would be forever grateful to Gilbert for.
The final concluding notes brought Matthew suddenly from his thoughts. Reflex had kept him playing the entire time. There was the smallest pause before the audience burst into applause. He had been so deeply engrossed in his mind that Matthew had failed to pay attention to hear if their piece could compare with the others. Based on the applause, just maybe.
As soon as the last performance finished, the musicians were allowed to leave the theatre to reunite with their families. Alfred ran up to them excitedly while the rest of their entourage followed at a more normal pace.
"Matt, that was so freakin' good!" Alfred exclaimed as he soon as he got close enough for him to be able to hear his brother. "Even I liked it. And I normally hate stuff like this!"
The rest of their party joined up with them and added their praises onto Alfred's. The time it took for the judging committee to make their decision was long; most of the other performers had either left to get dinner or had had family members bring one to them. Luckily, Ludwig and Emily had had enough foresight to actually think of dinner and had phoned an order to get take-out pizzas from a nearby restaurant before the final round had even started, and Ludwig had left to retrieve the pizzas immediately after the last performance.
As they ate in one large group, Matthew's family looking slightly intimidated by the strange people they were surrounded with, particularly Feliciano, who had squealed in excitement when he saw the pizzas and hugged Ludwig tightly. Alfred had insisted on sitting next to Matthew, claiming that they needed to catch up. Matthew only half paid attention to the many stories Alfred had apparently bottled up inside of him for the last three months. However, Matthew was distracted at how many people passed by that he somewhat recognized from school. Apparently, Gilbert hadn't just been paranoid earlier.
Matthew dragged his attention back to Alfred, surprised to hear that he was telling some sort of story about Ivan that wasn't simply a rant about how much he hated him. Now that was suspicious.
"Alfred," he interrupted in confusion, "I thought you hated Ivan."
"Huh?" Alfred looked confused for a minute before the question registered in his mind. "Oh, we're friends, now."
"When did that happen?" he asked as a microphone was turned on, his question drowned out by the loud feedback.
"Sorry about that, folks," the commentator from earlier said, his voice now amplified by the microphone. "If all of the Festival participants would please gather around, we've got the awards ready."
Matthew rejoined the rest of the Quartet and moved closer to the small stage that had been erected for this portion of the festival. There was a huge crowd clustered around the stage and the Quartet ended up near the edge. A loud voice suddenly caught Matthew's attention.
"Like, stop worrying, Toris. I keep telling you, you were, like, totally amazing earlier!"
Matthew couldn't help but glance behind him to see that the cellist from earlier was hovering near the edge of the crowd, along with a blond whose gender Matthew couldn't quite figure out. A pair of feminine skinny jeans were riding low on the blond's hips and the shirt the blond was wearing was also rather feminine, yet the blond had a flat chest and straight hips. Even though the blond's shoulder-length hair was pulled into pigtails, Matthew was pretty sure it was a boy.
"Like, have some confidence," the boy said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"But Feliks––"
Toris' response was cut off by the commentator, who held a small trophy in his hands.
"In fifth place, we have Emma and Elise Janssens, with the Allegro of Beethoven's Sonata No. 5!"
Applause and cheers sounded as the two girls went up to accept the little trophy. The commentator waited for the noise to die down before announcing fourth place.
"Alvarez García, with La Catedral, by Barrios!"
More applause and Matthew's heart started sinking in his chest. He had hoped that they might be able to place in the lowers winners, but that hope was now gone. He severely doubted they would place in the top three.
"In third place, Yao Wang, with The Moon Reflected on the Er-quan by Hua Yan Jun!"
The cheering was increasing with each award given; much like the size of the trophies. Matthew clapped half-heartedly, certain that they were going home without winning anything.
"In second place, we have The Bad Touch Quartet, with the Allegro of Mozart's Quartet No. 23 in F Major!"
Matthew was stunned. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Second place? He hadn't even thought they'd place at all.
"C'mon, Mattie," Gilbert was saying, pulling Matthew by the hand. Dazed, he let Gilbert pull him up to the stage where Gilbert accepted the trophy before giving it to Antonio. The reality of their prize struck Matthew as they stepped off of the stage and he began to grin. Second place! That was still pretty amazing, considering how many talented contestants had competed at the festival.
"And now, for the winner of the Young Musician's Festival," the commentator pause for dramatic effect, "Toris Lorinaitis, with the Prelude from Bach's Cello Suite No. 5!"
Matthew looked over at Toris to see a reaction even more stupefied than his own had been. Feliks, on the other hand, was jumping up and down in excitement.
"Oh my God, I like, totally knew my Toris would, like, win!"
A look of abject disbelief still on his face, Toris nervously made his way onstage where the commentator gave him his trophy. Matthew cheered loudly for Toris, glad that if anyone was going to beat them, it was a person who was truly gifted in music. After Toris stepped down, the crowd quickly dispersed and Matthew, Gilbert, and Francis rejoined their group. Emily immediately hugged Matthew.
"Hey, where the hell'd Antonio go?" Lovino demanded harshly, frowning.
"Some guy in a suit was talking to him," Francis answered. The murderous look on Lovino's face would've been funny if he hadn't been right next to Matthew, who could acutely feel anger radiating off of the Italian. Wordlessly, he rushed off to find Antonio. Francis chuckled.
"Making him jealous is so much fun," he sighed.
"Ve~, was Antonio really talking to someone?" Feliciano asked.
"I think he might've been from a college," Francis admitted with a devilish grin, "But Lovino doesn't need to know that."
A loud yawn from Peter caught Matthew's attention. He looked half asleep, leaning up against Arthur, who tapped Emily on the shoulder and gestured to the boy.
"Matt, we're going to head home now, but promise me you'll call me and we'll talk, all right?"
"Yeah, I will," Matthew promised before kissing his mother on the cheek before sighing.
"I know how you feel," Alfred said, placing a hand on Matthew's shoulders. "We got second in the Battle of the Bands, too."
"I almost forgot to ask about that," Matthew admitted. "I didn't have enough time to go watch, were you able to do all right?"
"Yeah, we just had Kiku replace you." Matthew blinked.
"I thought Kiku was a flutist?" Alfred shrugged.
"So did I. Apparently, Heracles taught him."
"Oh," Matthew said. "So, who won?"
"Some band called The Nordics beat us out. You know, that weird Danish guy and his brothers." Matthew shot Alfred a pointed look.
"Alfred, Nikolaus isn't related to Samúel and Elias, and Nikolaus is the only one from Denmark."
"Whatever," Alfred muttered.
"Alfred, let's go!" Emily called, having stopped to see what was taking Alfred so long.
"Anyway, I'll see you later!" he said before running off after Emily, Arthur, and Peter. Matthew yawned. It had been a long, stressful day and playing music for so long was tiring. Adrenaline had kept him going the whole day, but now that the climax of the competition had passed, he was starting to crash.
"Hey, Ludwig, let's go home. Feli and Lovi can go in Francis' car, they live closer to him, anyway," Gilbert suggested, looking rather worn out himself.
Ludwig agreed but Feliciano pouted, at least, until he was reminded that that meant he got to ride in the car with Antonio, after which he brightened up and went with Francis to go find his brother and Antonio. Matthew and Gilbert followed Ludwig to where his car was parked and they set off for home.
Matthew had nearly drifted off to sleep when a thought suddenly crossed his mind.
"I wonder how Alfred knew I was going to be here," he asked out loud, not sure exactly who he was talking to.
"I told him," Ludwig admitted.
"Why'd you do that?" Gilbert asked.
"Because Alfred was bothering me every day. Since I'm your brother, he seemed to think that meant I knew everything about your relationship. He wouldn't stop asking me how Matthew was and insisted on telling me all of his problems. It was obvious he wanted to apologize so I suggested that he do it here to get rid of him."
Matthew bit back a laugh.
"Well, thanks, Ludwig," he said. For whatever reason, he was on good terms with his family again, not to mention they had won second place. It had been a very good day.
The competition is over! This story isn't, though! I've got one chapter left, then an epilogue, then a few omake, but the action is pretty much over. The last chapter is a winding down chapter, mostly fluff, though some important elements are introduced.
*Staccato is a musical term which means that the notes are sharp and quick, not drawn out at all.
*The fingerboard of a violin is the part where the strings lie and are pressed down to create the different pitches of the various notes.
*Emma and Elise Janssens are Belgium and Luxembourg, respectively, Alvarez García is Cuba, Nikolaus Anderson is Denmark, Samúel Jónson is Iceland, and Elias Pederson is Norway. Hence their band name.