Wednesday, May 2nd
Outside of the hum of the AC, the practice room was dead silent. The other younger instrumentalists in the department claimed they would be sleeping in the practice rooms in order to properly practice beforehand without distractions. It seemed none of them followed true to their words, as everyone in the building had gone home for the night, except Marceline.
Currently, it was 2:11 AM on a Tuesday night...er...Wednesday morning.
More than likely, outside of a few stragglers, she was one of the only few people awake on campus.
Marceline's senior review was the next day. As per music major requirements, each semester the professors had to hold evaluations (or juries) for each student to track their progress. They would always start off easy and become more difficult with each progressing semester. It often starts with a simple piece and a review of a choice of major scales by memory, then it slowly advanced into the evaluators asking for any scale to be played out of a hat. At the end of the junior year, the musicians have a senior review - the hardest of the juries.
And though she usually wasn't nervous, she couldn't help but feel shaky at the thought of performing in front of her peers, as well as the directors over the department. Their eyes would stare her down as she played over the music; watching her technique, her tone, her posture. Everything about her would be judged in under twelve hours. Their ruling would determine how hellish of a senior year would lie in front of her. As if taking music history wasn't bad enough, having an additional jury, well...she would be lucky to make it through without some kind of complex.
If she weren't a performance or education major, she couldn't have had to go through this rigorous process. None of the other majors had to go through this much hell.
A breath escaped her lips. Now, as she played the exact piece she had practiced all night, her fingers became numb and the notes came out as somber blips. There were no emotions in this piece, only sloppy fingerings of tired notes in a dead silent practice room.
Yes, sleep was the only way to quell her fatigue. Then again, it was so easy to allow herself to go over her music one more time. If she played it with no errors and if it weren't perfect...she'd go again. No, even if it were perfect, she couldn't say she would be able to stop herself from going over it again.
At 11:15 am tomorrow she would be demonstrating her talents on the upright fretless bass, as well as on violin to show her versatility. Her instructor told her this was an absolutely necessary performance for her future audition into the graduate program as well. No pressure. He told her that it would leave a good impression. As if every professor didn't know her already.
Right now, she felt like that wouldn't be possible to impress them any more than she already had in the past. The muscle memory on the violin wasn't like it was on bass. If only he had given her more time than a few weeks to practice the piece. Even so, would she feel confident on this new instrument?
A hollow knock tore her away from her thoughts. If she weren't so drained, it would have made her jump.
The door creaked open, revealing Keila in her pj's, wearing tired baggy eyes and a groggy expression. "I figured you'd be here." She sighed, more out of relief than anything. "It's time to get some rest. Let's get you home."
"I can't-"
"Practicing like this won't help." She scolded, gently taking the violin out of her friend's hand. "You out of anyone should know that raw fingers diminish your playing abilities." She set the violin carefully in the soft black case, zipping it up for her. "Come on. You can practice some more in the morning."
Marceline only managed to give a tired nod. "Thanks for getting me, Kei."
Waving a hand at her, Keila took the case and began trudging out of the room. "I don't want Bonnie telling me you played in the spare bedroom instead of sleeping either." Keila knew her all too well.
"Fine, but I'm getting up early and heading right back here-"
"Oh, I'm sure you are. The 4 hours of sleep you get will be better than the all-nighter that I knew you'd try to slip under everyone's noses." ranted Keila, who couldn't help herself from talking with her hands. "Honestly, you're such a hypocrite for getting mad at Bonnie for studying like she does. You're really no better."
She tried not to grumble about how she would have been fine and how Bonnie was much more extreme than a 2AM practice session. Keila would never in a million years be convinced of that, no matter how much she insisted. Whether she was right or wrong about that didn't matter.
"Home time. Chop chop. I need some sleep too, idiot."
"Yeah yeah."
It wasn't nearly as awful as she expected. An 11ish performance would hardly have an audience, as the other music students were more focused on their upcoming performances and other finals over the rest of the week. There were only one or two other students in the crowd, one of those being an obviously tired Keila, along with the music directors who would be evaluating her.
Bonnie would have made it if she didn't have an exam scheduled at the exact same time.
Marceline was unsure if that was a blessing or not. How much of a distraction would it have been if she were there listening? Either way, she was fairly confident on the bass solo that she played with her accompaniment. It was her violin solo that was giving her all the anxiety, and really, she hadn't missed any notes as she expected to. She only under exaggerated one crescendo near the beginning-not that any of the students would ever notice.
If only it were the students evaluating her performance. They'd be much easier to please.
Plopping right next to Keila, she sighed. "I'm pretty sure I passed. All I have left is that interview with the directors at two."
"And you'll do great at that too."
The rocker shrugged, sinking deeper in her seat and relaxing her stiff muscles as best as she could. "I was thinking we should get some coffee. You can practice for your evaluation while I'm in my interview, then we can grab a drink or something?"
"Sounds good. What will you do when I'm practicing?"
"Probably wait for Bonnie to finish her finals, force her to nap and take her meds." If she were being honest with herself, Marceline hadn't checked on Bonnibel nearly as much as she should have. The past few days had been dedicated to non-stop practicing. And she figured Bonnibel had survived four semesters before their meeting, so it would probably be fine if she weren't monitoring her.
No, that was just a poor excuse. She shouldn't have stressed so much about the jury performance.
"Hypocrite." Keila snickered.
"Shut it." She retorted.
"By the way, when's the last time you've seen Bongo?"
"Oh fuck," She breathed, covering her mouth when a professor turned to give her the side eye. No one was currently playing, but the auditorium was quiet as the next performer was readying themselves. It might be for the better that she watched her mouth around her professors. "It's been a hot minute. I think the last time I saw him was when we went to the beach."
"Same for me."
Marceline let out an embarrassed laugh. "We suck."
Keila propping her feet up onto the auditorium seat in front of her. Surprisingly that didn't earn her a look. "Maybe we can convince him to work on a performance degree." Marceline thought aloud. "Then we'd be able to see him a lot more. And if I make it into the grad program then I might eventually student teach him."
"As if. You know he'll go on and on about how he doesn't want to be in debt."
"I can't really blame him there."
When the auditorium lights flickered, signaling they would be starting the next set of performances in a moment, Marceline pointed toward the exit. The two headed through the first set of doors into the lobby, barely missing their opening to leave. The piano accompaniment began playing as the doors closed behind them.
"You're really lucky, Marce. Getting a degree without debt and trust fund money on top of that..."
Marceline didn't need to be reminded of it. Both her and Marshall were beyond lucky, infuriatingly so. Yet she couldn't help but think it would be better to reject the money altogether. She wouldn't need it. No person needs that kind of money, but everyone dreams of having it. It felt wrong to accept money she didn't earn. "I would help you with your debt if you let me."
"I'd be in debt to you instead. It's not much better."
"I should figure out how to do it anonymously then."
"That would make it pretty obvious that it was you. Then I'd kick your ass." Keila hit her shoulder hard with her knuckles, earning a yelp from the rocker. Unsure if it helped, she covered her mouth as quickly as possible and began dragging Keila out the door to avoid any other ruckus they may cause. "By the way, have you told Bonnie about it?"
"It?"
"The trust fund, dumby."
"Yeah, we talked about it after the whole Ash incident."
Keila gave a relieved sigh, wrapping an arm around her. "Took you long enough. But, I'm glad you finally told her."
"It wasn't in the way I wanted," The thought of their discussion filled Marceline with the stressful urge to avoid eye contact with her friend beside her. The logical action was to run a hand through her hair to calm herself down. "I should have said something earlier."
"At least you got it over with." As if to console her, Keila patted her friend's head. "Did she seem relieved?"
Suddenly she felt like she was lugging around a bag of bricks instead of a twenty-pound upright bass, or maybe her lack of sleep made it seem heavier than it was. "I guess. Rain had blabbed about it a while before."
"Yikes." Keila laughed. "Was she mad?"
"There were a few misunderstandings, but it's all straight now."
She nodded, detaching herself. "Good."
"How about you and Guy?" Marceline asked in return. Though the words felt awkward in her mouth. She didn't hear or really even ask about them often, since it was a secret in the first place. Sometimes she felt like it was always meant to be a secret. That she still wasn't allowed to know.
Keila seemed appreciative of her question. "I mean...there's ups and downs to every relationship."
"Rough patch?"
She shrugged. "I think I'm just overthinking some things."
Keila had never been one to care what others thought of her. She was blunt, sometimes painfully so. The stereotypical men she dated hated how dominating her personality was. She never submitted to anyone and always said exactly what was on her mind. Her laissez-faire attitude about life brought boys in, her filterless tongue spits them back out.
Her with a jumbled up, inarticulate mind was just plain wrong.
"Yeah, that doesn't sound like the Keila I know."
"I don't know what my malfunction is." She tried to laugh it off, but after years of friendship, Marceline knew better.
But Marceline also wasn't the best at comforting others. "Love is weird." was the best she could think of.
"Tell me about it." Keila agreed.
The two musicians continued on their way to the nearest coffee shop on campus. Their coffee was sub-par compared to the Koffee Kingdom and the interior aesthetics were unoriginal, but it was closer. After an exhausting week, no one could blame them for that. They probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference anyways in their sleepless daze.
For now, it would suffice.
"Has she met your dad yet?" Keila prodded as soon as they sat down in the only vacant spot in the small cafe. With all the other students sipping coffee as they studied, it left the atmosphere dense and silent. It felt more like a library than a coffee joint.
"He's been out of town. Or avoiding us. Or both. Haven't spoken to him in a while." Looking into her mug of black coffee, she stared at the ripples created from small movements. She could see the sadness in her own expressions and would rather the ripples cover them up. "But it's not like this is the first time he's disappeared."
Their relationship was complicated. Best explained as the feeling of brushing your teeth and chugging a gallon of orange juice. Feels clean and refreshing at first and then a whirlwind of discomfort and dread followed.
"I don't know how that interaction would go." The rocker avoided her friend's concerned expression by sipping at the black liquid-because she would hardly call what she was drinking coffee.
We really should have invested in the extra five-minute walk.
"Well, he knows you're together, right?"
Marceline hadn't told Hanson directly. Mostly because she hadn't seen him since their argument in August. To her, it didn't feel like that long ago. "I'm sure he does." She thought aloud. "Simon keeps him up to date about most things in my life." Because what a shithole of a conversation that would have turned out to be, she thought. "Better him than I. I hate hearing what he has to say about my life choices and he hates that I don't comply. Not talking is probably for the better anyways."
"I'm sure he's not happy that both of his kids turned out gay." Keila chortled to herself.
"Either way, he wouldn't have grandkids."
Keila's head quirked to the side curiously. "You don't want kids?"
Marceline snickered at the thought of parenting a child. She remembered calling them parasites for a long while after learning about baby development. "Can you imagine Marshal or I with kids? What a nightmare..."
"I don't know, Marce. I think you'd be a good mom."
"Ew no thank you."
"Mommy Marcy." Keila sing-songed. Marceline threw a sugar packet at her friend, who retaliated immediately.
Let's just say they weren't very welcome within the preceding seconds after that.
Bonnie was fast asleep on the couch when Marceline entered their house. Her arms were wrapped around a frilly couch pillow-which Marceline still did not approve of. Timmy just so happened to be lounging on it, staring at her with his beady green eyes.
Most people would think Marceline was a cat person, but truth be told she thought they were too sneaky and conniving to be a housepet.
The tv was on playing some anime that she couldn't recognize with the volume louder than a human could possibly fall asleep to. Yet there Bonnie was, splayed out on the couch fast sleep as the tv blared in the background.
Marceline couldn't help but smile when she saw Bonnie in her basketball shorts and a random jersey-notably hers. Although Bonnie usually wore feminine clothing, she pulled off the 'butch' look much better than she previously imagined. All she needed to complete the look was a backward baseball cap.
The rocker knelt beside the couch and rubbed her girlfriend's cheek with her thumb. The pinkette didn't even move at the touch. Marceline was planning on forcing her to sleep anyways, it would be counterproductive to wake her up-even for lunch. That could wait.
It was probably for the better. If she didn't let her sleep now, then she would go on another 83-hour study spree like she had last semester. And Marceline was more than grateful to see her pile of books neatly stacked on her desk instead of the usual explosion of sticky-notes and loose-leaf paper strewn across their house.
Lying a kiss on top of her head, Marceline sat on the ground beside her. She supposed staring at her girlfriend would give her enough dopamine to make it through the next few hours.
Bonnie woke up to the sound of knocking on wood. Marceline wasn't superstitious, outside of the 'breaking mirrors bringing bad luck', so her conclusion: someone was at the door. Her vision was blurry for a mere moment, however, Marceline rushed to the door before she could even think of sitting up. Bonnie began rubbing the sleep from her eyes, unable to make sense of what Marceline was saying to the knocker.
The door closed a moment later, Marceline now holding a large white bag.
Bonnie looked at her questioningly, to which Marceline gave a wide smile.
"Good morning, sunshine. Sleep well?"
Groggily, Bonnie's eyes scanned the bag. The writing was incomprehensible. She was unsure if that was from her just waking up or the fact that it was written in a different language altogether.
Instead of attempting to decipher what the language was, she took a lucky guess and asked, "Chinese?"
"I hope that's okay."
"Mhm, that's fine." Bonnie yawned, sitting up. Even when lazying around, her posture was upright and pristine. "What'd you get me?"
Sitting down next to Bonnie on the couch, she began unpacking the bag's contents, saying "Pretty much any order you've previously gotten there."
"I've eaten a total of two dishes on the menu." Bonnie pointed out, as if Marceline wasn't already aware of that. They ate from the same Chinese take out restaurant every Wednesday night. And every Wednesday night, Bonnie would stare at their menu for at least ten minutes deciding if she wanted something new or not. She always ended up getting a large bowl of lo main, ate half, and took the other half home to eat as a midnight snack.
"I didn't want to wake you. I figured you'd be fine with your regular order."
"You know me so well. Aren't you proud that I slept?"
Then came Marceline's snide remark of, "Congratulations, you know how to properly take care of yourself."
"Do I get a reward?"
Marceline handed over a styrofoam box, inside holding the treasured lo mein. "Did you pass?"
"Is that even a question?"
Marceline took a pair of chopsticks from the bag and broke the wooden pieces before handing them over to Bonnie. This earned her a pout. As per their tradition, they always broke their own chopsticks to see who's broke the smoothest. Marceline always won, but that was beside the point. This was a great offense-which made Marceline's gentle smile all the more abnormal as she said, "Then you can have whatever you want, my love."
"I'd like to break my own chopsticks." Bonnie continued to pout.
"You can when you get your cast off."
Bonnie had almost forgotten about it. "Cheesecake then?"
"I can postmate it while we watch Friends." Friends was Bonnie's favorite show. Marceline loathed Friends. She remembered getting into an argument with her over the quality of dialog and how unrealistic it was. Regardless, Bonnie still liked it.
"You're being so sweet today." Bonnie pointed out. "What did you do?"
Marceline's eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't do anything."
"Did you hit your head?"
"What? No. I was just going to fall asleep while we waited. I figured you'd be rewatching it anyways."
Bonnie fake gasped. "This semester I wasn't the one pulling all-nighters? Does that mean I have to monitor you next semester?"
"No, it was just a one-time thing-well, if I pass." Marceline aimlessly played with her food as she spaced out. Only then did Bonnie notice how dark the under part of Marceline eyes were. "Oh, that reminds me-I told you I'll be gone for the weekend, right?"
"Multiple times."
"And about my trip in July?"
"Where are you going in July?"
"Damn," She cursed. "I thought I told you. I study abroad for a week in the summer with Marshal." She waved a hand in the air as she began explaining, "This year we tour Greece. Last year was Ireland. The year before was Spain."
"Oh, fun."
"Well," Marceline's expressions looked more...expressive today. Her face turned sour. "a little less fun this year. Marshal decided not to sign up last minute without telling me."
"Who would say no to travel?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Marceline exclaimed. "But listen to this: Today I found out that Garrison got an internship out of state for the summer. So guess who decided to run away with him."
Bonnie began thinking back over the past few weeks, recalling very few memories of Marshal or Garrison. Even those interactions were cut short. She wondered how things were going with them and made a note to check on them after finals week was over. Then immediately rescinded her note when reminding herself that she would see him plenty over the summer break.
"So then you're going alone?"
Marceline nodded, shoving a large wad of noodles into her mouth. Bonnie was thrown off by her sloppy posture and sulking. She didn't think she had seen that before. "Unfortunately."
Bonnie would blame her grumpiness to her exhaustion and lack of physical contact. With both of them studying fervently the past few days, neither had much time to spend with the other.
"And it's too late to sign up or back out?"
"Deadline was February." She answered with a mouthful of food. "I wouldn't get a tuition refund this late in the game."
"So I can't come with you?"
Swallowing, Marceline's devilish smirk came to play. "Aw, is someone going to miss me?"
Bonnie's expression was probably close to deadpan. "Idiot, of course I'd miss you."
"It's six weeks away so you better make sure to get your fill before then."
"Nah, I think I've had enough already."
Marceline pouted, playing with her food again. The sulking continuing on. "Meanie."
Reaching out, Bonnie stroked her girlfriend's hair, leaned over, and pressed her lips onto Marceline's warm shoulder. Marceline relaxed into her touch. "I miss you already."
