Konnichiwa minna-san! Moon Angel signin' in! I didn't get as many reviews as I wanted, but it's good enough. I should really get working on it anyway...

Disclaimer: I do not own Hamtaro. Ritsuko Kawai does.

Claimer: I do own Ginger.

Chapter Two

The Piano Lessons

"All right Penny," Pashmina placed me down on the bench and then sat down herself. "This is a piano."

"I know that, silly," I giggled. I loved it when she did that. It always made me feel smart.

"Of course you do. Now this," She placed her finger on one of the middle keys. "Is called the "C" key." She tapped it again. "Now you try."

I placed my small finger on the same key. It plinked. This was easy enough.

"All right. Now then," she pulled a music sheet from nowhere. "Now that you know where the "C" key is, it's time to learn the others."

"They all have names?" I stared at the giant keyboard in amazement. All of them? That was a lot of names!

"Well, actually. They all do, but the names repeat. Like, the names used are "A", "B", "C", "D", "E", "F", and finally, "G"."

"Why don't they use the other letters of the alphabet?" I kicked my legs impatiently.

"I... uh... ask Maxwell later," she became flustered. "Since "C" is right here, what will be on its sides?"

"Um... "B" and "D"?"

"Correct," Pashmina pulled out little sticky tabs. "I'll label them all later. So tomorrow you'll practice on the actual piano. Today, you're going to learn how to read music sheets."

"But I won't need to," I raised my eyebrow. "I'm writing my own song."

"Exactly. All the reason more. In order to sing your song and play the piano and memorize all... you'll need sheet music."

I was becoming more and more confused by the minute. How was I supposed to do that?

"Now, the notes on the lines going up are "E", "G", "B", "D", and "F". There are several ways to remember them. I know them as Every Good Boy Does Fine."

"How about Even George Bush Drives Fast," Ginger walked in. We both stared at her. "A little American humor for 'ya."

"Ginger, what are you doing?" Pashmina snapped.

"Helping. You're teaching method makes no sense," she walked behind me. "You went from introducing the piano, to showing her the "C" key, and then saying you're not going to work with the actual piano, and then you went onto sheet music."

"I was confused," I agreed wholeheartedly. I pressed the "C" key over and over. "When will you label the keys?"

"Later," Pashmina said, now frustrated.

"Oh," I looked back down at the piano. The good aura then left and I felt tense all afternoon. I knew the lessons would eventually help, but Pashmina wasn't prepared at all. Maybe someone else knew.

"Does anybody know how to play the piano?" I asked that night.

"No," they all choired. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"All right Penny, let's try this again," Pashmina sat me down at the bench the next day. "See? I labeled all the keys. Now we can get started."

I stared down at the keys. She was right – they were all neatly labeled.

She then started to show me the keys again, and told me to play them as she did. She taught me about something called "octaves", which I figured out were keys that had the same note, but a different pitch. Pashmina says its part right, and the real answer is that an octave means eight, so those keys are eight keys apart. That was really confusing, so I just stuck by my own explanation.

By the end of the week, I had gotten the keys down and could play a few simple songs. I was on my way.

But the announcer guy said that it had to be an original song, so I suppose I was nowhere near the end. I had asked Pashmina if she could help me, but she said she didn't know how.

"What do you mean?" I asked naively.

"I mean I can't... write," she admitted. "I can read very well, but when we turned human, I wasn't blessed with the ability to write."

I stared up at her. My Pashmina can't write?

"But then how did you label the keys?" I asked.

She gave a smug look, "Ginger did it. She can write very well. I think she can read as well. In fact, I'm the only one who can't write."

"I can't either," I reassured her. "Since you won't let me go to school."

She gave a weak laugh and then walked away. And although I had learned something new (like Maxwell said I should do everyday), I still hadn't solved my problem of writing the song. But wait! – Who did Pashmina say could write very well?

"Writing a song?" Ginger repeated. "Is it for the contest?"

"Yep," I smiled. I knew she couldn't resist my cuteness. She had told me that one day.

"All right," She guided me to her bed and grabbed a notepad. "I suppose after writing the song you're going to want singing lessons?"

I nodded as she sighed, "If you give a mouse a cookie..."

"I want the song to be about something good," I told hr and hopped up on her bed with her.

"How about... lies? No," Ginger answered her own question. "I know! About youth! That's great!" she then began to write down what she called "lyrics". Those are the words to a song.

After Ginger had written the song, she read her lyrics aloud to me. They seemed to be very adult but I sort of understood them. They seemed good enough to me.

"Now time for singing lessons," she cleared her throat. "In order to prepare, you have to learn the scales. They go as follows: Do, re, mi, so, fa, la, ti, do." She had a beautiful singing voice.

"Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do," I mimicked her, and I pulled it off pretty good.

"You've got a nice voice," she complimented me.

"Thank you," I grinned widely. "Now how does that help me?"

"I don't know," Ginger shrugged. "I think it helps with pitch."

"Oh," I replied, taking in what she had said.

Over the process of that week, I practiced singing my song and then just singing in general. I also worked on playing the piano and singing at the same time! By the day before the contest, Ginger made me sing in front of the other Ham-Ham's. I got what she called a "standing ovation". She then went onto explain what it meant, but I just got confused. It was like octaves all over again!

"Don't worry, kid," Sandy pat my shoulder. "You'll do great."

"Yeah," Bijou agreed. "You're going to be like the next Madonna."

I didn't know who she was, but I figured she was a good singer. Or at least I hoped so.

The next morning I woke up early. I got breakfast all by myself (with the result of a messy kitchen) and got dressed by myself. I felt so grown-up that day. After all, I was going to be in a contest.

After everyone else had gotten up and eaten, Bijou did my hair and I practiced singing the song and playing the piano. By then, I had memorized all the lyrics and keys, and I was ready for first prize.

Around 12pm, Pashmina and the others hopped into the car and they drove me to the studio where I was to perform. I couldn't wait!

But then I saw all the other children, and knew that it was hopeless, just like Stan and Ginger had been saying the day I brought the contest up.

"Name please?" A guy came up to Pashmina, who had been walking me around.

"Uh... Penny Houston," Pashmina told the man, who looked down at his clipboard.

"She goes last," he pointed to a line of kids. He then walked off.

"Well then, Pen," she handed me the sheet music and song lyrics, "I'm going to grab a seat. Good luck," she kissed me on the cheek and was off. I stared at all the other kids and took a deep breath.

I could do this. I knew I could because everyone believed in me.

And that's all that really mattered.