Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsies. I do not even own most of OCs in this fic, seeing how the majority of them are based off of real people.
A/N: I apologize for the long wait, my baby brother passed away last week so I've been rather preoccupied. I really don't know how long this story will take me; I might be too busy to write very much for the next several weeks until my life gets back to normal. I'll try to keep up, and I do plan on finishing this fic, it just may take a while. Bear with me, please.
And thanks to my three reviewers so far: burnt-mufn, Tifabee, and Racerchick. As always, reviews are extremely important to me, not only for the encouragement but also the corrective criticism.
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Day 2 – Monday
5:23 am
Pluck. Pluck. Thwump thwump. Pluck pluck pluck pluck. Thwump!
What the heck? I cracked open my eyes to see the pale brown of my blanket in the dim light.
Pluck pluck pluck. Thwump thwump. Thwump pluck pluck.
Throwing off my covers, I glared in the direction of the noise.
"Not a morning person, I see," a shrill voice said from across the room.
I turned on my lamp and surveyed my new roommate. Perched on her bed, near the window, wearing rose-colored pajamas, and holding a violin in one hand, the girl ran the other through her fake blonde hair.
"Yeah, that would be a no."
"So I figured," and she went back to finger-combing her hair.
"I'm Julia, by the way," I offered after a long absence of speech.
"Hilary."
"So, Hilary, what are you doing up this early?"
She gave me a withering look and then smiled with obvious displeasure. "There's this one bitch who placed higher than me, even though she didn't deserve to, and I'm mastering our pieces so I can show her exactly how awful and untalented a player she is."
I stared in shock. "You're kidding, right?"
"Do I look like the type to pull your leg?"
I didn't answer that, just continued looking at her in disbelief. Hilary lifted her instrument and began plucking furiously away at her violin strings again and marking in bowing notes on her music.
Eventually I resigned myself to the fact that I would not be getting anymore sleep and reached over and turned off my alarm that was set to go off at six-thirty. Esther Jacobs had said no showers before six, so that option was out, but I didn't know how much longer I could take just sitting in the room listening to Hilary killing her fingertips.
I finally decided to get out my reed making kit and work on some of my blank reeds. That took some time, including three excursions to the bathroom for hot water to soak the cane in. By the time six rolled around, I had whittled one of the blanks into formidable shape and sound. Feeling better from the productivity, I put the reed in my reed case and left the rest to soak for the day. Then I grabbed my bathrobe and shower bag and exited the room, calling back over my shoulder as I went, "Have fun with that practicing, Hil!"
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7:05 am
"Morning Julia, met your roommate yet?"
"Yes, and I don't want to talk about her."
"That bad, huh?"
"Awful. Overachiever. Rude. Evil. Cruel-hearted."
"She can't be all that bad!"
"Yes, she can."
"How so?"
"Do you know who the third-seat violin is?"
"No, but I do know that Spot is concertmaster."
"Spot?"
"Sebastian Conlon, more commonly known as Spot, punk-looking kid, real short and skinny?"
"Ah…"
"Yeah, but third-seat? I have no clue."
"Well, she's female."
"And she's your roommate?"
"No, she's my roommate's arch-nemesis."
"Ah…"
"Breakfast?"
"Yes, please."
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12:10 pm
My eight o'clock symphonic band rehearsal went well, as did my bassoon master class that followed at eleven – though Tony showed us all up horribly. We played bassoon quartets, including an interesting arrangement called "I'm a Teenage Bassoonist" which sounded like a 50's rock piece (only with four bassoons instead of an actual band). After that, I met up with Rachel and a new acquaintance of her's, Paul – the 3rd seat trombone -- and we headed for lunch.
So there I was in the dining hall, adding the finishing touches to my salad and hot dog, and recalling how miserable my meal had been the day before. I picked up my tray and made my way back to the table that our trio had claimed, only to find that it was already populated by several new bodies, though the chairs on either side of Rachel were still vacant.
"Julia, over here," Rachel patted the seat on her left and I took it, still confused as to who the crowd all was.
"Heya, Julia," drawled a familiar voice, and I looked over to see Tony sitting across from me. At least I knew someone else!
"So Julia, let me introduce you to the gang. On your left is Grant (more commonly known as Mush), then Brenton (or Specs, as we call him), then Erika (she's just Erika), then Cooper (or Snitch), Tony (Race, who you, of course, already know), Layla (again, just Layla – we girls prefer no nicknames), Paul (or, as the guys have just dubbed him, Dutchy), and lastly – dare I say it when he's present? – Sebastian (though you'll be much safer calling him Spot or Conlon, because he will kill you if you call him Sebastian)," she paused and took a breath, "We're missing a few folks, but I'll introduce them when they bother to show up. Everyone, this is Julia."
Choruses of "hi's" and "whazzups" hit me, and I attempted a smile despite the fact that my brain was whirling at a hundred miles per hour trying to remember and process all the names and faces.
"So, Julia, what do you play," asked – I believe it was Grant – on my left.
"Uh, Bassoon."
"Cool. Oh, you must be the girl Tony's been talking about."
I froze. "What?"
"Well, he's been complaining about how all his fellow bassoons this year can't play, 'except for the chick' he says."
"Oh." I glanced over at Tony, who was munching on a celery stick and enjoying a debate over phrasing interpretation of a Mozart Concerto with Spot Conlon. Deciding to change the subject, I asked, "So, - Grant, was it? – what do you play?"
"Cello, 3rd seat. I'm happy, last year I was 7th. And besides, the 1st and 2nd chairs are hecka awesome, not to mention that the 2nd seat is really hot."
"I see. And how about you?" I asked the guy to Grant's left.
Grant grinned and playfully punched him on the arm. "This here is a Vocal dude. Sings tenor cause he isn't cool enough to actually play one, right Specs?"
Specs rolled his eyes. "Yes Mush, you're right, all I've truly wanted in life is to suck on a saxophone mouthpiece and annoy the crap out of David Jacobs, but I'm not cool enough to do so."
"He admits the fact from his own mouth, you see," Grant exclaimed gleefully to me.
I laughed.
"Speak of the devil," Specs said suddenly as I sensed someone come up behind me.
"Julia, I'd like you to meet David. David, Julia," Rachel announced as the guy from the elective tables slid into the empty chair to her right.
"Bassoonist, right?"
"Yeah. And you're tenor sax?"
"Uh-huh."
"And also the Walking Mouth," chimed in someone from the other side of the table.
"The Walking Mouth?" I questioned.
"His parents pretty much own the camp – you know, Mayer and Esther Jacobs?" explained Rachel. "They're the head counselors and Jazz experts. Therefore, it's only natural that he can spout just about every rule and regulation…"
"Every rehearsal time…" butted in Spot.
"Every special event…" Grant added.
"And the codes to file them under…" grinned Tony.
"…that CMC has ever created," finished a newcomer who was standing with a smirk on his face.
"Heya Jack!" went up the rounds of greetings.
"What took you so long, Cowboy?" asked David.
"Nothing. Just some freaky chick followed me trying to tell me I was playing my part wrong in band. She wasn't even a tuba!"
"What was she?"
"How should I know?"
"Was she hot?"
"Grant!" I admonished without even thinking.
He grinned, "Well, I want to know!"
"I guess," Jack decided, his face all screwed up in thought.
"Well, she's probably a trumpet," put in Rachel. "I'm the only female trombone in symphonic, unfortunately."
"Hey," began David, "if Oscar is bothering you again, just let me know, and I'll tell my dad. If he so much as –"
"I know, I know. Don't worry, David, I'm fine."
"Just checking. And for goodness sake, Jack, are you going to eat or not?"
"Nah, I'll grab some pizza on the way out – that stupid chick took up way too much time – lunch is almost over."
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1:00 pm
Whereas I had found Dr. Denton to be an interesting and good conductor, I found Dr. Snyder most certainly rigid and hard to follow. Not only that, but he seemed to purposefully pick on the members of Rachel's clique, always calling on them to give demonstrations of the most difficult passages and then rebuking them for the slightest mistake.
"Mr. Meyers, quit talking to the poor 2nd chair, and play for us, solo, beginning at letter E. Now."
I strained my neck to see past the tall oboist in front of me until I could make out Grant's surprised face in the second row.
"Sir, we just got this music a half hour ago."
"That shouldn't make a difference, after all, you're 3rd chair. In theory that means you are supposed to be a talented musician."
After Grant's painful attempt to play the section – and Snyder's tirade against uncommitted, untalented, good-for-nothing bums who had no common courtesy towards others and who should be moved to the back row, last seat, due to poor performance skills – we moved on to the next piece.
Snyder's eyes flickered about the group, lingering on certain people with a flare of extreme dislike. Every time he looked my way I started shaking.
"You there, bassoon, play for me, solo, at box 12."
It took me a moment to realize he was addressing Tony, not myself. Tony returned Snyder's scathing glare and re-wet his reed. Then after a quick breath, he began to play.
Needless to say, he played the entire section flawlessly, and finished to the cheers of his friends and many others. Snyder, however, was not pleased. He scowled at Tony and then his gaze shifted to me.
"Now let's hear the 2nd bassoon at the same place."
My eyes grew large and my hands felt suddenly clammy.
"Now, 2nd bassoon. I don't have all day, so stop wasting my time!"
I took a very long and deep breath, lifted my bassoon and started at box 12. My part was lower than Tony's but I tried to mimic his phrasing. I missed several accidentals in the first line, and then totally botched the second. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I stopped playing, and Snyder smiled almost sinisterly.
"The quality of the entire section reflects on the section leader, not just his own skill, Mr. Higgins. Therefore, you've done very poorly indeed."
Squeezing my eyelids shut, I wished I could be home in my bed away from all these people. Just when I was starting to have fun and make friends I had to blow it like that.
"Everyone, box 12 – except the bassoons. I think they need to practice a bit more before they can join our rehearsal tomorrow."
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3:45 pm
I kept my eyes glued to my notes in front of me, as Mr. Kloppman – the piano instructor and music history teacher – paced about, explaining the origins of music. After my horrible experience in orchestra, I had taken my bassoon and case into the ladies restroom to avoid speaking with Tony. While I was there in the handicapped stall, packing up my instrument on the diaper-changing table, I replayed the humiliating scene over and over and knew I could never face Tony again. I waited in the bathroom for as long as I dared before scurrying to my C elective(since I made orchestra I no longer had to take my first two electives, which was fine with me).
Kloppman had already started class when I showed up, and to my dismay, Tony was apparently enrolled in the Music History elective as well. I took the farthest vacant seat from him as possible, and then buried my face in my notebook.
As soon as class was over, I slammed my book shut, slung my case over my shoulder and hurried out of the room. I could hear Tony call my name, but I didn't stop or slow down. Camp Chorus was next – that was sure to be a fun and embarrassing experience as well. I followed the flow of traffic into the IRH building and let myself be herded into a group of females.
"What are we?" I asked.
"Altos," said a girl with black pigtails.
"Okay."
It was a while before everyone was in place and a brightly dressed woman – Ms. Medda Larkson, if I remembered correctly – seated herself at the piano.
"Sing after me, darlings!"
And off she went singing a group of pitches. We copied, and she gave us another set.
"Now put them together!"
We did and she gave us another. Pretty soon we were singing an entire tune using solfege and had memorized it without even noticing.
"Congratulations, my dears. Now we'll learn the words!"
Though her methods were odd, I decided that I liked Ms. Larkson. I also decided that I liked Camp Chorus a lot better than orchestra because I was just one girl in a sea of altos, and with little chance of making an absolute idiot of myself.
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5:30 pm
"Rachel," I panted as I caught up to her. "I'm going to sit with some of my Camp Chorus buddies for dinner, is that alright?"
She nodded, "Of course that's alright, you don't need to feel pressured to eat with us all the time!"
"Okay, see you at the concert tonight."
"Yeah, save me a seat, I'll probably in at the last moment. And Julia, so you know, if you ever need to talk with someone, I'm right here."
I gulped and watched her join David and Grant in the dinner line before I doubled back towards the dorms. There was no way I was going to sit at the same table with all those people from orchestra, and there was no way I was going to let them see me sitting by myself. No, I would stick it out in my room, maybe buy some snacks at the little mini-store on campus. Deciding finally to stick with the vending machines in the dorm, I ran my guest card in the slot and trotted up the three flights of stairs. On the way, I stopped to buy food in the lounge, dropping my quarters into the machine and purchasing a bag of Doritos and some Junior Mints. Then I marched down the hall to Room 323 and found the door unlocked and the room occupied.
"Don't you ever sleep or eat or leave this room!"
Hilary looked up from her music at my sudden appearance and outburst.
"What's your problem?"
"You!"
"Look, just because you suck doesn't mean you should take it out on me!"
I grimaced as I remembered that Hilary had been at the orchestra rehearsal as well.
"You're making a big deal out of nothing, okay? Of course, I would die if I made such a fool of myself in front of everybody, but hey!" she added with a sigh.
After staring at her for a second, I deposited my bassoon case on the floor under my bed and exited the room. I needed quiet. I needed to be alone.
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7:30 pm
The CMC Faculty Performance had started and Rachel was nowhere to be seen. I had saved a seat for her -- like she asked -- even though I really didn't think I could face her or her swarm of friends. Apparently now she had ditched me and I didn't have to worry. Or so I thought just as a group of people entered through a side door, Jack in the lead. They tiptoed over to my row and all sat down all around me, Specs on my right and Grant on my left.
We listened in silence as Kloppman finished his piano sonata and all throughout Dr. Denton's rousing trombone solo. Just as Mayer and Esther Jacobs were getting up to perform a vocal/sax duet, Grant suddenly switched seats with the person on his left and I found myself sitting next to Tony.
"Hey," he whispered. "Why weren't you at dinner?"
"I was there," I lied.
"No you weren't."
I didn't feel like continuing the argument, especially since I knew that he knew I was lying, so I didn't answer.
"And why didn't you wait up for me after orchestra or music history or camp chorus?"
"Was I supposed to?" I countered.
"Shhh!" hissed David from down the row. "Show my folks some respect!"
We showed respect for about twenty seconds before Tony whispered, "Hey look, if this is about Snyder's whole load of crap in orchestra today, forget it! That really had nothing to do with you."
"Oh, really? How does that work? You were magnificent and I sucked. You can't change the facts."
"He only made you play because he knew – "
"That I would blow it?"
"Julia, let me finish! That piece is extremely hard! I happened to have played it recently in my orchestra back home, which is why I was able to play it today. You can't be expected to sight read perfectly! He only made you do that to be able to criticize me!"
"Yeah right! How can he blame you? It's not like you could have called a special sectional for my sake in the ten minutes since we were given our parts."
"I know, but he felt he had to gain face somehow, but there really was no way –"
"Because you were just perfect! So he picked me – little old me who didn't even want to come to this stupid camp – to make a fool of."
"God, Julia, no ones cares that you messed up! I bet by tomorrow no one will even remember! Do you see Grant moping around? Well, in case you forgot, he got grilled too! You see him hiding from his friends? No, he knows that Snyder is just a cranky old –"
"I swear, Tony, if I hear your voice again I'll go in your bassoon case and crack all of your reeds!"
Glancing down the row at David, who was frowning angrily at us, I pondered what Tony was saying.
"Look," I said to him as the Jacobs were exiting the stage, "Can we just not talk about this?"
"Yeah sure, whatever."
The next performer appeared and accepted their applause.
"But we are going to have that extra sectional tomorrow, by the way."
"What?"
"I said, that extra sectional Snyder recommended? We're having it tomorrow, during lunch."
"No."
"I'm the section leader, I'm in charge, and I say yes. We need it, believe me. And then we can master the music and blow all of Snyder's attempts to embarrass us to the wind."
"You're starting to sound like my roommate. Please stop."
Tony laughed and fixed his eyes on the stage as David's angry hiss came again. "I mean it, jerks! Shut up!"
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10:15 pm
"So Julia, did you clear things up with Tony?"
I turned back to see Rachel standing in her doorway, eyeing me questionly. "Uh, what?"
"He said he needed to talk to you earlier, but we couldn't find you anywhere."
"Ah, well, I was around."
"Did you talk to him?"
"Sorta – I mean, yes. We're having an extra practice tomorrow. Don't worry, I won't ruin the performance – I swear to have my part mastered by then."
"Julia, I don't care how many times you mess up! I got lost all over the place during that piece."
"Really?"
"Well no, actually, but I did forget to play an F-natural during the second movement."
"Thanks."
"No problem. See you for breakfast?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Night."
"G'Night."
Opening the door to my room, I was welcomed by the sound of Hilary practicing again.
"Don't you ever sleep?"
"Still killing yourself about that stupid mistake?"
"Not really."
"Well good, cause it's not like anyone cares about your playing – good or bad."
"Well, thanks for that. Now please go to bed!"
And I reached over and turned out the light.
"Julia!"
"Oh, you do know my name."
"Turn that back on!"
"I'll tell you what; I'm going to the bathroom to change and brush my teeth – when I come back you had better have put that violin away 'cause I'm turning the light off again."
My second day was ending. I was still alive…barely. Of course, there was always tomorrow...
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A/N: So there you go – Day 2. I hope you enjoyed it, and please review
And, on a side note – I just saw Stardust…Charlie Cox is HOT!!!
-- pj