The Audition (SMS)
Tuesday, December 19th, 2017 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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mindcrackloveAm I late to the revival?? I hope not... In any case, enjoy some musical SMS :)
Kurt adjusted his tie and checked his reflection in the visor mirror in his rental car. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as he struggled to stay calm. This was his first big audition since graduating from music school. He had won an audition with his local symphony, so he had some experience, but this was in an entirely different league. There would be competition from other oboists across the nation this time – maybe even from across the world. He grabbed his oboe and music from the passenger seat and started walking across the parking lot. Halfway there, he realized that he forgot to lock the car.
He turned back to lock it, already starting to feel frustrated with how this day was going. As he headed back to the building, someone started walking next to him. He turned his head to scope out his competition, but was surprised to see a man carrying a cello case. Oh, that’s right…there were cello auditions here on the same day. He managed a weak smile. The man smiled back – it was a very nice, confident smile, Kurt thought. (If he had been less nervous, he might have been impressed by more than the smile – as it was, he gave little thought to how very attractive the cellist was.)
“Oboe, right?” the man asked as they approached the building.
“Yes,” said Kurt. Feeling like he should try to be friendly, he added. “I’m Kurt. What’s your name?”
“Zisteau. Cello, if you couldn’t guess.” He grinned at Kurt.
“Indeed!” Kurt replied with a small laugh.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” Zisteau inquired.
“Probably! Though you don’t look nervous.” Kurt held open the door for Zisteau and his cello case.
“Oh, thank you….but I am nervous. I really haven’t taken many auditions, and this is a big one.”
Kurt nodded his head. “Same for me.”
They were now at the check-in desk, and were swiftly herded off into individual warm-up rooms. Kurt was surprised to find that he was feeling less nervous. He warmed up and ran through his excerpts for the first round of the audition. When his number was called, he went to play for the committee. But unlike the other smaller auditions he had taken, where everything was a blur, he felt like he was in control and able to consistently produce his best sound. He had a couple of little issues on the excerpt by Beethoven, but otherwise he walked back to his warm-up room feeling happy with his audition.
It would be about another hour before the committee would announce the finalists, so Kurt put down his oboe and went to see about getting some of the snacks and drinks provided. Walking into the room, he was hailed by Zisteau, who was lounging on one of the chairs and holding several cookies on a plate.
“Hi Kurt! Have you gone yet?”
“Yes, and you?”
“Finished five minutes ago.” Zisteau’s whole demeanor was relaxed and comfortable.
“I take it yours went well?” Kurt hazarded a guess as he sat down.
“Very! Though I’m glad that first round is over. And what about yours?”
Kurt grinned. “Same. I don’t want to get my hopes up…but I just may have a chance.”
“Well, I guess we’ll both find out soon,” Zisteau glanced at the clock. “There are only three cellos after me, so it should be about forty-five minutes.”
“You’ll find out sooner than me, then. There are five more oboes.”
They fell into a contemplative silence for a minute. Zisteau broke it by beginning to ask Kurt more about himself. This prompted a long, deep conversion, which lasted until the cellos were called to get the results. Kurt didn’t want Zisteau to go – he was really enjoying talking to him, especially because he was now beginning to notice his good looks. But he gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile as he said, “Good luck!”
Now that Zisteau had left, Kurt was starting to feel nervous again. In less than 20 minutes, he’d find out if he made it to the finals. He focused on his breathing: in…out…in…out. He tried to lose track of time and calm down.
He almost jumped when he heard a voice saying “Hey Kurt!” He looked up in surprise and saw Zisteau standing next to him, grinning widely.
“Zisteau!” He smiled back. “I don’t even have to ask. You made it.”
“Indeed.” Zisteau tried to copy Kurt’s voice, making both of them crack up in laughter. “By the way, they said to call the oboes over. They’re about to announce the results.”
Kurt’s stomach flipped upside down. “Oh. Thanks…I guess. But congratulations to you!”
Zisteau smiled reassuringly. “You got this. Come tell me the results!”
Kurt nodded and slipped out of the room. He was surprised that once he gathered with the other oboists he felt a little better. He was sure that part of that had to do with seeing that everyone else looked as uncomfortable as he felt.
The announcement was made. He was one of the 4 finalists for the position. He drew a card with position #2, so he had about an hour to warm up again and practice any problem spots before his final audition. Once he was dismissed, he exhaled a sigh of relief (had he been holding his breath? whoops…) and went to find Zisteau in the break room.
Zisteau was still lounging with a drink in his hand. He spotted Kurt as soon as he walked in the room and looked at him inquiringly.
“I’m afraid I can’t read you as well as you read me,” Zisteau mused. “Did you make it?”
“Yes! I play again in an hour.”
“Fantastic – congratulations! I’m playing again in about an hour, but I can’t go practice for that long. Anything more than 30 minutes would be too much.”
Kurt laughed. “Indeed! I also don’t want to destroy my embouchure before playing. Do you want to chat for a while first?”
Zisteau looked pleased at the suggestion. “Of course! But first,” he took his phone out of his pocket and set an alarm for 30 minutes. “Just in case…”
Kurt chuckled and the two fell into another deep conversation. The alarm went off far too soon for their liking. As they rose to leave, they planned to meet again after their auditions while waiting to find out the results.
Kurt’s second warmup and audition went much like the first. He was confident and in control of his sound, and this time couldn’t even have pointed to a spot where he messed up. He walked out with a big smile on his face and the knowledge that he did his best. As he put away his oboe, he felt like whether he won or lost the audition, it had been a good experience. And meeting Zisteau was definitely nice too. At the thought of Zisteau, he noticed butterflies in his stomach again. Oh no, was it like that? He shook his head as if to clear it and headed to the break room.
When he got there, Zisteau was not there yet. He wondered how his audition was going as he grabbed a bottle of water. He sunk into the armchair Zisteau had been sitting on earlier. So that was why Zisteau had looked so relaxed! It was a very nice chair.
He exhaled happily, then almost jumped again as he heard Zisteau’s voice behind him, “Hey, that’s my chair!”
“I’m sorry. I can see why you claimed it!” Kurt replied, getting up reluctantly.
“Oh Kurt, I didn’t know it was you. Keep it! I’m sure you deserve it.” ZIsteau waved Kurt back down, taking the next closest chair. “So, how was it?”
Kurt described his feelings about the audition, and listened to Zisteau relate his experience. Zisteau had also felt very good about his performance. Kurt could tell that Zisteau was not nervous at all anymore – he seemed a lot happier and more outgoing. By the time they had traded stories of other smaller auditions they had taken, a volunteer came to call them to the announcement of the results.
They gathered together to sit with the other finalists. The oboe audition committee first made a brief statement of how impressive all the candidates were and how difficult the decision was. Kurt was on the edge of his seat, barely able to listen to those introductory remarks. Zisteau, who was sitting next to him, seemed a bit amused. “And the audition winner is…Kurt.” Kurt let out a little yelp of excitement, then turned red with pleasure and embarrassment.
Zisteau nudged him with his knee. “Well done indeed,” he whispered, smiling happily. Kurt gave him a dazed smile. He won the position! He had a job – and a good job too! His brain started bringing up all of the different things he had to think about now: quitting his old job, finding new teachers for all of his oboe students, moving, finally getting away from his toxic ex…he shook his head and pushed that all out of his mind. For now, he would just revel in the knowledge that he had won.
But then the cello committee began with their remarks. Kurt noticed that Zisteau stiffened – his jaw clenched up and his eyes grew hard. Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile – he knew what he was going through.
They finished their general announcements and started to announce the cello winner. “And the new member of our cello section is…”
Kurt almost jumped for the third time today as he felt a hand slip into his and squeeze tight. The anxiety on Zisteau’s face was obvious. The anxiety melted into joy when the name Zisteau was called, but their hands remained together. Zisteau now had the same dazed look that Kurt had worn. Kurt didn’t think he even knew they were holding hands. He willed himself to remain calm even though feeling Zisteau’s hand in his sent more butterflies in his stomach.
The two committees thanked everyone for coming to the audition, dismissed the other candidates, and asked Kurt and Zisteau to come talk and meet them. As Zisteau stood up, he suddenly realized that he was holding Kurt’s hand. “Oh, um, sorry! I…well, um…” He stammered as his face grew red.
“No problem. I actually….well…” Kurt stopped himself from saying too much. “Ah….indeed.”
Zisteau searched Kurt’s face with a bit of wonder. He found what he was looking for in his expression and stated the obvious. “We have to talk again after this…”
Kurt nodded then gestured toward the committees, and the two began walking up to talk to them.
After meeting his new colleagues and hearing compliments on his playing, Kurt went to grab his oboe from his seat at the back of the room. Zisteau was still talking to some of the other musicians of the orchestra, but quickly wrapped up the conversation when he saw Kurt preparing to leave.
“So I need some time to process everything.” Zisteau said. “I was thinking we could go back to our hotels and freshen up, then maybe meet up around 8 at this bar I wanted to try. They have this fantastic single malt scotch. How does that sound?”
Kurt thought it sounded wonderful.
Kurt adjusted his tie and checked his reflection in the visor mirror in his rental car. He could feel butterflies in his stomach as he struggled to stay calm. This was his first big audition since graduating from music school. He had won an audition with his local symphony, so he had some experience, but this was in an entirely different league. There would be competition from other oboists across the nation this time – maybe even from across the world. He grabbed his oboe and music from the passenger seat and started walking across the parking lot. Halfway there, he realized that he forgot to lock the car.
He turned back to lock it, already starting to feel frustrated with how this day was going. As he headed back to the building, someone started walking next to him. He turned his head to scope out his competition, but was surprised to see a man carrying a cello case. Oh, that’s right…there were cello auditions here on the same day. He managed a weak smile. The man smiled back – it was a very nice, confident smile, Kurt thought. (If he had been less nervous, he might have been impressed by more than the smile – as it was, he gave little thought to how very attractive the cellist was.)
“Oboe, right?” the man asked as they approached the building.
“Yes,” said Kurt. Feeling like he should try to be friendly, he added. “I’m Kurt. What’s your name?”
“Zisteau. Cello, if you couldn’t guess.” He grinned at Kurt.
“Indeed!” Kurt replied with a small laugh.
“Are you as nervous as I am?” Zisteau inquired.
“Probably! Though you don’t look nervous.” Kurt held open the door for Zisteau and his cello case.
“Oh, thank you….but I am nervous. I really haven’t taken many auditions, and this is a big one.”
Kurt nodded his head. “Same for me.”
They were now at the check-in desk, and were swiftly herded off into individual warm-up rooms. Kurt was surprised to find that he was feeling less nervous. He warmed up and ran through his excerpts for the first round of the audition. When his number was called, he went to play for the committee. But unlike the other smaller auditions he had taken, where everything was a blur, he felt like he was in control and able to consistently produce his best sound. He had a couple of little issues on the excerpt by Beethoven, but otherwise he walked back to his warm-up room feeling happy with his audition.
It would be about another hour before the committee would announce the finalists, so Kurt put down his oboe and went to see about getting some of the snacks and drinks provided. Walking into the room, he was hailed by Zisteau, who was lounging on one of the chairs and holding several cookies on a plate.
“Hi Kurt! Have you gone yet?”
“Yes, and you?”
“Finished five minutes ago.” Zisteau’s whole demeanor was relaxed and comfortable.
“I take it yours went well?” Kurt hazarded a guess as he sat down.
“Very! Though I’m glad that first round is over. And what about yours?”
Kurt grinned. “Same. I don’t want to get my hopes up…but I just may have a chance.”
“Well, I guess we’ll both find out soon,” Zisteau glanced at the clock. “There are only three cellos after me, so it should be about forty-five minutes.”
“You’ll find out sooner than me, then. There are five more oboes.”
They fell into a contemplative silence for a minute. Zisteau broke it by beginning to ask Kurt more about himself. This prompted a long, deep conversion, which lasted until the cellos were called to get the results. Kurt didn’t want Zisteau to go – he was really enjoying talking to him, especially because he was now beginning to notice his good looks. But he gave his best attempt at a reassuring smile as he said, “Good luck!”
Now that Zisteau had left, Kurt was starting to feel nervous again. In less than 20 minutes, he’d find out if he made it to the finals. He focused on his breathing: in…out…in…out. He tried to lose track of time and calm down.
He almost jumped when he heard a voice saying “Hey Kurt!” He looked up in surprise and saw Zisteau standing next to him, grinning widely.
“Zisteau!” He smiled back. “I don’t even have to ask. You made it.”
“Indeed.” Zisteau tried to copy Kurt’s voice, making both of them crack up in laughter. “By the way, they said to call the oboes over. They’re about to announce the results.”
Kurt’s stomach flipped upside down. “Oh. Thanks…I guess. But congratulations to you!”
Zisteau smiled reassuringly. “You got this. Come tell me the results!”
Kurt nodded and slipped out of the room. He was surprised that once he gathered with the other oboists he felt a little better. He was sure that part of that had to do with seeing that everyone else looked as uncomfortable as he felt.
The announcement was made. He was one of the 4 finalists for the position. He drew a card with position #2, so he had about an hour to warm up again and practice any problem spots before his final audition. Once he was dismissed, he exhaled a sigh of relief (had he been holding his breath? whoops…) and went to find Zisteau in the break room.
Zisteau was still lounging with a drink in his hand. He spotted Kurt as soon as he walked in the room and looked at him inquiringly.
“I’m afraid I can’t read you as well as you read me,” Zisteau mused. “Did you make it?”
“Yes! I play again in an hour.”
“Fantastic – congratulations! I’m playing again in about an hour, but I can’t go practice for that long. Anything more than 30 minutes would be too much.”
Kurt laughed. “Indeed! I also don’t want to destroy my embouchure before playing. Do you want to chat for a while first?”
Zisteau looked pleased at the suggestion. “Of course! But first,” he took his phone out of his pocket and set an alarm for 30 minutes. “Just in case…”
Kurt chuckled and the two fell into another deep conversation. The alarm went off far too soon for their liking. As they rose to leave, they planned to meet again after their auditions while waiting to find out the results.
Kurt’s second warmup and audition went much like the first. He was confident and in control of his sound, and this time couldn’t even have pointed to a spot where he messed up. He walked out with a big smile on his face and the knowledge that he did his best. As he put away his oboe, he felt like whether he won or lost the audition, it had been a good experience. And meeting Zisteau was definitely nice too. At the thought of Zisteau, he noticed butterflies in his stomach again. Oh no, was it like that? He shook his head as if to clear it and headed to the break room.
When he got there, Zisteau was not there yet. He wondered how his audition was going as he grabbed a bottle of water. He sunk into the armchair Zisteau had been sitting on earlier. So that was why Zisteau had looked so relaxed! It was a very nice chair.
He exhaled happily, then almost jumped again as he heard Zisteau’s voice behind him, “Hey, that’s my chair!”
“I’m sorry. I can see why you claimed it!” Kurt replied, getting up reluctantly.
“Oh Kurt, I didn’t know it was you. Keep it! I’m sure you deserve it.” ZIsteau waved Kurt back down, taking the next closest chair. “So, how was it?”
Kurt described his feelings about the audition, and listened to Zisteau relate his experience. Zisteau had also felt very good about his performance. Kurt could tell that Zisteau was not nervous at all anymore – he seemed a lot happier and more outgoing. By the time they had traded stories of other smaller auditions they had taken, a volunteer came to call them to the announcement of the results.
They gathered together to sit with the other finalists. The oboe audition committee first made a brief statement of how impressive all the candidates were and how difficult the decision was. Kurt was on the edge of his seat, barely able to listen to those introductory remarks. Zisteau, who was sitting next to him, seemed a bit amused. “And the audition winner is…Kurt.” Kurt let out a little yelp of excitement, then turned red with pleasure and embarrassment.
Zisteau nudged him with his knee. “Well done indeed,” he whispered, smiling happily. Kurt gave him a dazed smile. He won the position! He had a job – and a good job too! His brain started bringing up all of the different things he had to think about now: quitting his old job, finding new teachers for all of his oboe students, moving, finally getting away from his toxic ex…he shook his head and pushed that all out of his mind. For now, he would just revel in the knowledge that he had won.
But then the cello committee began with their remarks. Kurt noticed that Zisteau stiffened – his jaw clenched up and his eyes grew hard. Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile – he knew what he was going through.
They finished their general announcements and started to announce the cello winner. “And the new member of our cello section is…”
Kurt almost jumped for the third time today as he felt a hand slip into his and squeeze tight. The anxiety on Zisteau’s face was obvious. The anxiety melted into joy when the name Zisteau was called, but their hands remained together. Zisteau now had the same dazed look that Kurt had worn. Kurt didn’t think he even knew they were holding hands. He willed himself to remain calm even though feeling Zisteau’s hand in his sent more butterflies in his stomach.
The two committees thanked everyone for coming to the audition, dismissed the other candidates, and asked Kurt and Zisteau to come talk and meet them. As Zisteau stood up, he suddenly realized that he was holding Kurt’s hand. “Oh, um, sorry! I…well, um…” He stammered as his face grew red.
“No problem. I actually….well…” Kurt stopped himself from saying too much. “Ah….indeed.”
Zisteau searched Kurt’s face with a bit of wonder. He found what he was looking for in his expression and stated the obvious. “We have to talk again after this…”
Kurt nodded then gestured toward the committees, and the two began walking up to talk to them.
After meeting his new colleagues and hearing compliments on his playing, Kurt went to grab his oboe from his seat at the back of the room. Zisteau was still talking to some of the other musicians of the orchestra, but quickly wrapped up the conversation when he saw Kurt preparing to leave.
“So I need some time to process everything.” Zisteau said. “I was thinking we could go back to our hotels and freshen up, then maybe meet up around 8 at this bar I wanted to try. They have this fantastic single malt scotch. How does that sound?”
Kurt thought it sounded wonderful.
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Date: Thursday, December 21st, 2017 04:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: Friday, December 22nd, 2017 12:17 am (UTC)