"Two minutes, everyone!" Mr. Edelstein said, although the dramatics of it made his statement seem much more like a grand declaration. "Only two minutes left, until those curtains open." He pointed a manicured finger towards the pleated velvet which acted as the only barrier between the audience and them. "Parents, teachers, friends, complete strangers— they will all be hearing your music."

Feliciano's heartbeat was deafening— blood and nerves and pure adrenaline pulsed through his veins. He could only hope that nobody else could hear it.

Because this wasn't any ordinary concert.

Feliciano glanced at his instrument, one last time. He wouldn't be needing it, this time.

Because tonight, Feliciano Vargas wasn't just another Tenor Saxophone— he wasn't just another face in the crowd.

Tonight, he was going to sing.

Sing the song he had written and rehearsed thousands upon thousands of times.

To put it simply, Feliciano was terrified.

Terrified that he would mess up, triggering a chorus of jeers and mocking laughter replacing what should have been applause.

Then, Feliciano stood, ignoring the tremor in his knees and fear in his heart. He rested the saxophone on his seat, locking eye contact with his older brother for a split second.

Lovino gave him a reassuring look that practically screamed 'you better break a leg or I'll break yours!'

Aside from Lovino, everyone else around Feliciano looked very confused. The rest of the saxophone section broke out into quiet murmurs, conspiracizing amongst themselves what the Italian was trying to do.

But none of their theories would ever be correct.

Because they didn't know that the unnamed song they were playing actually had lyrics.

Feliciano began to walk in shaky steps, making his way to the small riser Mr. Edelstein had set up just for him. Nobody else knew what it was for, or why there was a mic attached to it.

Mr. Edelstein continued speaking as he approached the Conductor's podium. "And with all that being said, let's try to make this the best music the world has ever heard."

Here we go.

Gilbert felt something poke the back of his neck.

"Are you nervous, right now?" Elizaveta questioned playfully.

Gilbert smirked, rejecting the accusation as quickly as he could. "No way in hell. The Awesome Me never gets nervous."

Oh, who was he kidding? Of course, Gilbert was nervous! Not for this specific piece, (it was laughably simple to play, after all,) but for… something else. Something that a certain Italian boy had suggested for him to do. Something that involved negotiating with that stuffy aristocrat, much to Gilbert's own chagrin. Something that could either make or break his entire reputation, along with his relationship with a gorgeous, witty, brown-haired, Hungarian girl.

Gottverdammt. She better say yes, or I'm doing this all for nothing.

"Well, it certainly seems that way," insisted Elizaveta. "You look like you've seen a ghost!" She immediately retracted her words, remembering who exactly she was talking to. "Erm… even more so, than usual," she added quickly.

Gilbert refused to believe that his skin could get any paler than it already was. "Nah, that's just the lighting."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Gil."

Gilbert snickered, sticking his tongue out at Elizaveta before turning back around to face the front. As soon as his face was out of her view, the mischievous grin dropped.

Scheiße.

Am I biting off more than I can chew?

What if she doesn't like it?

What if she ends up falling head-over-heels for that stupid little priss instead of me?

…

Okay, fine, maybe Edelstein's not a complete priss. He is helping me out with this, but still!
The conductor cleared his throat loudly. "Two minutes, everyone! Only two minutes left, until those curtains open."

Gilbert stared at the curtains. They were thick enough to muffle the sounds of the audience stirring in the auditorium in front of them, but not completely. It was an ever-present reminder of just how many people were watching—

And listening, Gilbert reminded himself.

He shuddered, tugging at his navy blue tie. He preferred to dress casually, (or as Ludwig sometimes put it, sloppily.) But for this event, he was forced to comply with the formal dress code he despised so much.

It was even fancier than the usual dress-shirt-and-pants requirement for most band concerts. The Homecoming dance taking place shortly after was to be blamed for that.

It's the first party of the year! I'm not gonna be dancing by myself, that's for sure.

Or with some stranger.

Gilbert wanted her. Hell, you could even say he needed her.

Unfortunately, he was a terrible communicator. Especially when it came to romance.

Although...

He wasn't a terrible singer. His style was… unconventional, yes, and not particularly easy on the ears, but...

Gilbert locked eyes with Mr. Edelstein, magenta eyes burning into violet.

Suddenly, the Austrian's rambling wasn't just playing in the background of Gilbert's thoughts.

"And with all that being said, let's try to make this the best music the world has ever heard."

Mein Gott.

I'm never gonna forget this, huh?

I might as well just make it awesome.

"Looks like somebody's excited," Matthew remarked.

"Damn right, I am," Alfred responded, enthusiasm dripping from his voice.

The concert was sort of like a footnote in his mind, overshadowed by another event succeeding it:

The Homecoming dance.

Alfred was beyond exhilarated.

Finally, finally, he had won.

He asked Tolys Laurinaitis to come to the dance with him.

And Tolys Laurinaitis said yes.

Ha! Take that Ivan, you communist bastard!

The hero always wins, in the end.

Alfred stared at his trumpet, seeing his own distorted reflection staring back at him.

A sort of sick feeling washed over him.

But…

Is that all it was? Just… a game?

I mean, Tolys is a great guy, and all, but…

Is he really all I wanted? Or did I just pursue him to stick it to Ivan?

Alfred was beginning to doubt everything. His motives, his decisions, himself—The truth was, he really didn't feel the same heart-fluttering, hand-shaking, sensation he felt right when he first found out he had feelings for Tolys.

He's easy to talk to and super understanding, and I like him for that.

But I—

I just can't say I love him.

Besides, that's really not fair. I can't just… use him as a trophy, or something. Just something to brag about.

He's a person.

He deserves better than that.

Alfred parted his lips, about to say something that could account for all the thoughts he was having at the moment and hope Matthew would get it.

Unfortunately, it was too late.

"Two minutes, everyone!" Mr. Edelstein announced, destroying any opportunity for further conversation. "Only two minutes left, until those curtains open. Parents, teachers, friends, complete strangers— they will all be hearing your music."

Alfred and Matthew exchanged glances.

Maybe I should keep my mind off the whole Homecoming thing. Even for just a little while.

I gotta live in the moment, yeah?

"And with all that being said, let's try to make this the best music the world has ever heard."

Alfred grinned to himself, both his eyebrows angled downwards in determination.

Let's do it.

It had been quite a while since Ivan had seen Mr. Edelstein, ever since the Austrian was transferred to the Band department.

But, now, they were going all-in. Strings, brass, woodwinds— everyone.

Mrs. Rutherford decided to allow the Band director to take control of the concert that night, as he had experience teaching both departments.

Although, it was quite difficult for Ivan to focus on his playing. Especially with one bitter thought looming over his head like a storm cloud.

Alfred won.

He has Tolys.

The information was practically common knowledge, at that point. Especially considering that Alfred was one of the most popular students at W, it was no secret as to who he was planning to take to Homecoming.

Ivan sighed.

I should have just treated Tolys better. Maybe, then…

I would have won.

I wonder if he would—

The thought was left incomplete; interrupted by Mr. Edelstein's voice.

"Two minutes, everyone! Only two minutes left, until those curtains open."

Time really did pass by, didn't it?

Almost too fast.

"Parents, teachers, friends, complete strangers— they will all be hearing your music."

A longer pause. Ivan could hear the muttering of the rest of the Orchestra; hushed, quick, words that were important enough to be said, but not important enough to be said at full volume.

"And with all that being said, let's try to make this the best music the world has ever heard."

Let's get this over with.

Kiku was no stranger to drama. Despite appearing as a quiet and timid person, the Japanese boy lived for drama. Perhaps it was some sort of blessing from the stars that allowed him to attend a school like World Academy, where one could find all sorts of juicy things without even looking for it.

Like, soap opera level drama.

So, naturally, Kiku always had his trusty camera on hand to capture those… specific moments.

"Ugh… it's way too dark in here," Leon complained, narrowing his amber eyes in a squint and shifting in his seat.

"I believe that it is intentional," Kiku responded. "Perhaps they wanted to draw more attention towards the performers, rather than everything else."

Leon grumbled something under his breath and brought out his phone, opting to scroll through Twitter instead.

Kiku pursed his lips in silent disapproval.

Hopefully, he gets off his phone once the orchestra actually starts to play.

He fiddled around with the small piece of paper in his lap— his fingers aching to fold it.

But he didn't. The piece of paper was the concert's program, which was supposed to list out every piece the orchestra would be playing in order.

This time, however, there was only one piece.

Kiku didn't even have to look at the program to see what it was called. He already knew.

I am sure Feliciano-kun will sing this song well.

And, finally, the curtains rose.

The conductor tapped the microphone, checking for feedback.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Roderich Edelstein, the conductor of the band department. I'd like to thank you all for attending."

Kiku lifted a pair of opera glasses to his face— it was a bit odd-looking, but he really couldn't care less.

Through the lenses, he could see everything clearly.

He saw Feliciano, Lovino, Alfred, Matthew, Gilbert, Elizaveta, Ivan—

"And, I am pleased to present to you the beautiful product of our entire orchestra's hard work for the past couple of weeks. So, everyone," Edelstein turned around, raising his baton. "It's showtime."

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ahhh, this was such a fun chapter to write! I like matching up everybody's perspective to the same event, as they are all occurring simultaneously.

In the next chapter, the real show begins ;)