On their music.

Our first class that Thursday morning was an introduction to music history. The professor was a man in his late 50s, clearly passionate about the subject, if perhaps a bit of a purist who actually disliked stuff like rock & roll. He kept arguing that music, and art in general, made for the sake of profit had no right to be called art, and while I see his point, it’s hard not to feel called out as students there gambling to hopefully make a living out of music.

“Also, the irony of teaching music and getting paid,” Luna said, frowning with arms crossed, clearly not a fan of the lecture.

After class was done and the professor left, we had a large, hour and a half window until our next class. Luna, Ruby, Steven, Eric and I kept talking as we moved somewhere else. Though we didn’t have a destination in mind, I think.

“I won’t lie, I used to think like that,” Ruby admitted. “I still do, to some extent. I just don’t care if people label our music as art or not. I enjoy it and want to keep doing it.”

“That’s a good mentality to have,” Steven said.

“By the way, where are we going?” Eric asked, noticing we were going up a floor.

“Ah, I forgot to tell you before class started,” Steven said, his eyes lighting up. “I booked one of the music rooms for us.”

Luna’s eyes brightened as well. “Wait, you did!?”

“You can book a music room?” I asked.

“You didn’t know?” Ruby asked me. “Just like you can book study rooms in the library, you can book music rooms here. There aren’t many, and most are just empty, but…” She looked at Steven, who grinned back.

“Yeah, since we’re still not bringing our instruments, I booked one of the two that has some.”

We got there quickly. It was a room the size of the classrooms, soundproofed. There were a few instruments inside, like they said. A drum set, a couple of acoustic guitars, a piano, some flutes… None in particularly pristine condition, but more than usable. There were amps set up, too, but no electric instruments.

“That’s it, I’m bringing my violin every day starting tomorrow,” Luna said. She went to pick up one of the guitars to check it. It had a few minor bumps and scratches. “Do people not know how to take care of an instrument?”

“I bet too many people use them, and replacing the instruments is probably not worth it unless they’re broken,” Eric said, going to sit down at the drums.

“...” You know what? Let’s see what we can do. I picked up the other acoustic guitar. I’m not a specialist, but I should be able to play it regardless. “Eric. Smell of the Forest,” I told him.

“Oh, fuck you. Do I remember it?” he asked himself, frowning yet picking up the sticks. He began with a steady bass drum groove before finally remembering how it went.

It was a very simple song for all instruments involved, and I mostly just wanted to check Eric’s basics and mine. He wasn’t rusty at all, even if this was his first time playing this song in four years.

“That sounds nice,” Steven said. “Whose song is it?”

“Our high school music teacher,” I said. “He wrote it to get us all used to playing together.”

“It was the first song we learned in the music club,” Eric said. “Also… the only one you learned with us, right?”

I nodded. “Right.” I guess I also wanted to confirm I was over the music club drama. That song was my only connection to the club left, so if I could play it with Eric, then… maybe I really had moved on. “Ah, by the way Steven, fuck you,” I said with the most casual, least hostility my voice could manage.

He seemed to notice I was fooling around and smirked. “What? What did I do?”

“Your music almost gave me a mid-life crisis before my 20s. You actually ARE way too good,” I told him.

“Isn’t he?” Luna said. “We were shocked when we saw him in class since we’d been following him for about a year already.”

“Come on, I’m not all that,” Steven said. “My music is clearly just iterative of greater musicians. Learning from them taught me a lot of technical skill, but in the end I’m just a lesser version of them. Yours, though… Ugh, Oliver, you have a gift.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious! Your originals are simple, yeah, but I’ve had That Night stuck in my head since I listened to it yesterday! There’s something about it and the way to play them that just… hits you deep. Like… They remind me of the forbidden riffs.”

I felt shame wash over me at that and had to cover my face. “No, like, actually shut up!”

“What are the forbidden riffs? I’ve never heard of that,” Ruby said.

“Ah, I guess you wouldn’t have if you mostly stick to J-Pop,” Eric said. “The forbidden riffs are a bunch of extremely famous and iconic guitar riffs that are also very easy for beginners to learn, which leads to thousands upon thousands of beginners playing the same 10 songs and making everyone get tired of them.”

“But that’s the thing, they’re iconic because they’re good!” Steven said. “Oliver, your songs are like that in the sense that they stay with you after only one or two listens. There’s also the way you play them. There’s… passion to it. It’s hard to describe, but ‘passion’ is the best word I can think of. It’s like you FEEL the entire song. Its melody, its rhythm… You girls have listened to his songs, right?”

Luna and Ruby flinched and looked away with guilty, **** grins.

“We… haven’t,” Ruby said.

“HAH!?” I raised my head, looking at those two girls with incredulous disgust. “But you said I made my guitar screech!”

“We might have… only listened to a couple of clips and decided we didn’t like you,” Luna said, unable to meet my eyes.

“...”

“...”

“...”

“You two are awful,” Eric said, less like an accusation and more like stating a fact. Steven could only nod in agreement.

“We said we’re sorry!” Luna said.

I’m never listening to what a stranger tells me ever again.

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