((Gah, me and my infamous lack of updates. Let's see, what is my excuse this time? Scarlet Pimpernel, and then after that was over more violin learning, and then school and then just my sheer procrastinating and then a new, professional oboe by the name of Elissa. phew Sorry guys.))

And before I knew it, it was March. My mom was no less liking of my oboe decision, and she often pointed out how pointless it was and how I was going to be living in a box in New York with no money. But as my friend would say in the future that I didn't know yet, "At least you'd be happy!" And I would be, even if I had no money. So I tried my best to ignore my mom's words, though it was really hard the way she'd tirade sometimes…

But I was determined not to let that get to me or to Chandler. Chandler repeatedly encouraged me in his own oboey way to continue on and work hard and make it, even if it is just to spite my mom. Because I had a dream, a real dream, and there's no way that someone could force me out of it. We will go on, Chandler would say. And someday we'll find an orchestra and be the greatest oboe and oboist team the world has ever seen. Your mother cannot take that from us! He'd say, and I'd listen, because his oboey words were all I had. My dad said nothing, and my friends? Right now it wasn't in their interest at all. My closest friend was so enamored by her first boyfriend that she had no time thinking of anything of myself. And my other friends really didn't understand. So all I had were the words of a student oboe.

The first time a brief glimpse of a future was showed to us was one day in band when I least expected it. I sat down and was trying to do my English homework when a piece was handed out to all of us…the Lord of the Rings Fellowship music, music from the movie. I glanced at it briefly before returning to my English homework. The bass clarinets next to me let out a loud series of giggles (but that was no surprise…the bass clarinets giggled at everything. Wrong notes, laughter. Band director stands up, laughter. So it's no surprise that a random piece would make them laugh). The trumpets behind me started practicing and being loud and annoying (did I ever mention how annoying trumpets were? Loud, arrogant, idiots who took all my solos…)

"Alright you guys, come on!" Mr. P shouted. "Let's do this piece from the beginning, then!"

I took my reed and stuck it in Chandler, bringing the reed to my lips as we did the little warm ups and then began the piece. It was really fast, and what a surprise, started with a trumpet solo. You know, someday it would be nice to be somewhere where trumpets weren't the focus of the band but instead just some random thing that was needed but not the center focus. Was there anything out there like that?

Nevertheless we went through the first page and a half without much excitement, as the horns joined in in another part. Then down it went, until finally the trombones blared their music out. I was resting, I guess, but I had lost count of the music away back and had stopped counting, just following along with the flutes. Normally I had the same music as the flutes so it was easy for me to follow along with them instead of reading my own music. I was a terrible counter and sight reader, so it's much easier that way, I've found. But as I looked, the flutes weren't getting ready to play. So I guess I wasn't either. But…wait! I had something in my music. And it looked like the flutes didn't. What was up with that? Maybe I was playing with the clarinets at that part…

At that moment, Mr. P pointed at me. I looked up at him in bewilderment. What, I was supposed to be playing now? No, I play with the flutes, or clarinets, I'm not supposed to be playing now, seriously, what's up with that too?

Mr. P stopped conducting then. "Kathryn, I don't know if you noticed, but you have a solo there." He said.

I…what?

I looked at my music. "Where?" I asked.

"Right there, at 83." Mr. P informed me. "Right after the trombones make their entrance. That's a solo, and you didn't play it."

"Oh…" I replied, my mind reeling with the sudden revelation. "I wasn't counting properly."

"That much is obvious." Mr. P replied. "Now, let's go back and try that again so Kathryn can do her part."

We went back. I looked at the notes, and they seemed to hover unrealistically in front of my face in the music. I played, and when I played, the notes came out quaveringly and unsure because I wasn't used to solos, to playing alone. But they came out.

We didn't do it anymore for the rest of the band period. But as we left, I went to lunch feeling dazed and disbelieving. I had a solo in this piece! A real solo! Not the trumpets who always got solos (though they had them in this piece anyway) but mine, my own solo! I'd practice it, I knew. I'd practice it and then I'd play it a hundred times in band and the come the time of the concert, everyone would hear it! And when they heard it they'd go, "Oh that's Kathryn's solo, don't you know!"

Well, maybe I was getting a little carried away with that. But even so! It was my first solo…well, technically my second but my first with Chandler. And how wonderful it would be! Without any restraint my mind went careening down those places of glory and wonder where this small, tiny solo of two measures was dominated by Chandler and myself and we'd be the greatest ever. We had a solo at last! In this band, a solo!

In my mind, it was the next step to our world of glory.

In my mind, there was no way that we could ever be stopped. Because now we had a solo, and even my mom couldn't say anything against that.