Post by Mashiro Satou on Jul 14, 2022 18:53:45 GMT -5
“
Without music, life would be a mistake.
For Mashiro, it was always a tiring ordeal to keep smiling. It wasn't that she particularly disliked smiling, nor was she incapable of it. It was just something she had to be conciously doing, and that was tiring. But for the small crowd that had gathered in one of the larger piano lounges of the Music and Theatre Arts Building, Mashiro forced herself to smile.
It was mid-afternoon on the second day of the Summer Music Festival. Mashiro was able to secure a time slot in one of the larger piano lounges, a surprise given that she was a solo act. Perhaps it was because she had impressed her teachers before and felt she could handle it, but it put pressure on the white-haired composer. For two hours, she had played a number of her own compositions and all of it from memory. Her inspirations in the genre of minimalist classical shone through, and it seemed enough to impress her audience.
At her small concert's end, she stood up from her stool and curtiesed for one final round of applause before picking up her messenger bag and quickly strode into the hallway, trying to find a quieter spot to calm her nerves. In the end, she had to settle for the middle of a hallway that was not being traversed. The white-haired girl took a deep breath and finally let go of the facade she usually used when tending to the family's shop, and her first reaction was to look at her current attire - in the hustle and bustle of preparations, she never really got a good look at it.
The dress and jacket were a gift from Komachi, a childhood friend, as sort of celebration for being able to get a solo slot as a second year. At first she wanted something similar to the pinafore she wore at her family shop, but Komachi had other ideas. A long white pleated dress covered a sky blue blazer jacket with Juliet sleeves that was cropped below her bust. Mashiro reached back to make sure that the ribbon that tied her hair into a long, low ponytail was still intact - according to her cousin Misha, the ribbon belonged to Mashiro's late aunt. Lastly, Mashiro rocked back and forth in her heels, feeling the rigidity of the knee-high laced boots she wore. The pianist scoffed - the ensemble was very much European and almost anachronistic, but it seemed to serve its purpose well, and Mashiro wasn't going to turn down the exhaustive effort of her childhood friend and cousin.
As the composer took one of her many water bottles out of her messenger bag, she pondered what to do next. Misha was likely busy overseeing the festival, if not with her girlfriend. Yumeko was definitely present in the audience with her girlfriend Hara, but had likely moved on to visit some of Hara's friends who were also performing. And Komachi had apologized earlier for being unable to attend due to outfitting another group of performers at the same time.
After taking a long drink from her water bottle, Mashiro had nearly resigned herself to returning to her room when she spotted a familiar blonde girl down the hallway, Ellie Harper. Despite her many encounters with classmates, Mashiro could never seem to talk to someone more than once, and not for lack of trying. The notion upset her in a way, sighing as she stowed her water bottle again. Ellie didn't seem to be busy, so Mashiro walked quickly, her boots clattering in the hallway despite the music drifting about, and waved her hand high.
It was mid-afternoon on the second day of the Summer Music Festival. Mashiro was able to secure a time slot in one of the larger piano lounges, a surprise given that she was a solo act. Perhaps it was because she had impressed her teachers before and felt she could handle it, but it put pressure on the white-haired composer. For two hours, she had played a number of her own compositions and all of it from memory. Her inspirations in the genre of minimalist classical shone through, and it seemed enough to impress her audience.
At her small concert's end, she stood up from her stool and curtiesed for one final round of applause before picking up her messenger bag and quickly strode into the hallway, trying to find a quieter spot to calm her nerves. In the end, she had to settle for the middle of a hallway that was not being traversed. The white-haired girl took a deep breath and finally let go of the facade she usually used when tending to the family's shop, and her first reaction was to look at her current attire - in the hustle and bustle of preparations, she never really got a good look at it.
The dress and jacket were a gift from Komachi, a childhood friend, as sort of celebration for being able to get a solo slot as a second year. At first she wanted something similar to the pinafore she wore at her family shop, but Komachi had other ideas. A long white pleated dress covered a sky blue blazer jacket with Juliet sleeves that was cropped below her bust. Mashiro reached back to make sure that the ribbon that tied her hair into a long, low ponytail was still intact - according to her cousin Misha, the ribbon belonged to Mashiro's late aunt. Lastly, Mashiro rocked back and forth in her heels, feeling the rigidity of the knee-high laced boots she wore. The pianist scoffed - the ensemble was very much European and almost anachronistic, but it seemed to serve its purpose well, and Mashiro wasn't going to turn down the exhaustive effort of her childhood friend and cousin.
As the composer took one of her many water bottles out of her messenger bag, she pondered what to do next. Misha was likely busy overseeing the festival, if not with her girlfriend. Yumeko was definitely present in the audience with her girlfriend Hara, but had likely moved on to visit some of Hara's friends who were also performing. And Komachi had apologized earlier for being unable to attend due to outfitting another group of performers at the same time.
After taking a long drink from her water bottle, Mashiro had nearly resigned herself to returning to her room when she spotted a familiar blonde girl down the hallway, Ellie Harper. Despite her many encounters with classmates, Mashiro could never seem to talk to someone more than once, and not for lack of trying. The notion upset her in a way, sighing as she stowed her water bottle again. Ellie didn't seem to be busy, so Mashiro walked quickly, her boots clattering in the hallway despite the music drifting about, and waved her hand high.
[ Ellie-Rose | #WORDS | ♫MUSIC | NOTES ]
