Connor and the Wolves - 5. The Audition

Etudes swam through his head. Two days of musicians playing the same pieces over and over had numbed his mind, nearly taking all the joy of classical music from him.
And Miles still wasn’t done.
The fifty-year-old elf pulled into Elias Academy, his car lights sweeping over the school in the early dawn. A two-story building stood around a courtyard, a fountain bubbling quietly in the centre of a concrete walk. A janitor was busy cleaning leaves out of the water. Miles could hear a lawn mower across the street, working on the football pitch in the stillness of the morning. His nose wrinkled at the sound — Oliver never performed well on freshly mown grass. He’d have to make sure the trimmings were gathered.
Lights dotted the building, where teachers were busy preparing for the first day of school. Miles shut off his car and got out, instantly missing the howling wolves that had accompanied him to work and the seat warmer that had kept the morning chill at bay. The elf stepped around the back to remove a cello from his trunk. He slung it over his shoulder and locked his car with a click, before heading across the street to a near-identical building.
“Geyn rinyal, Miles.”
He was smiling before he turned. A young human walked toward him, fighting back a yawn. Dark eyes blinked slowly at Miles, and a large bag hung low over the human’s shoulder.
“Geyn rinyal, Sam.” His Rellanic was sloppy, and Miles had to slow down a bit to pronounce everything correctly. It had been a few years since he’d spoken it, but he appreciated Sam’s attempt to practice the language. “More clothes for the closet? I thought you’d brought everything already.”
“So did I, but we’re getting six new wolves this year,” Sam said in stilted Rellanic. “The more the better.”
“Ah. Third period is going to be fun.” Miles grinned, walking with the man toward the school. “And hopefully, practice, too. We might actually have the numbers to beat Jasper High this year.”
“I might join you,” Sam said. “It’s going to be empty in the WolfRoom, and I could use a run.”
“Oh, I heard Itumak Narlaq turned over the summer. You might want to keep an eye on him.”
“Itumak…” Sam pushed a door open, waiting for Miles to enter the building. “I don’t recognise the name.”
“Ginger Askani. His mother went here about fifteen years ago,” Miles provided. “She was a ball of energy herself. I’m hoping he’ll join the track team, but if that happens, it will be cross-country, not sprints.”
“Well, it would be a win either way.”
“Oh, undoubtedly.” Miles pushed open a soundproofed door, nodding at Sam. “I’ll see you around.”
“See you later.”
He glanced at his phone as the door closed between them. Seven-thirty, two and a half hours before school was supposed to start. He had an hour to set up the room before the final auditions for the orchestra would start. Fortunately, there were only two students auditioning, a violist and a bassoonist. Both had performed well in their recordings, but Miles couldn’t accept them into the orchestra without seeing them play in person. Even if he needed both instruments.
It took a while to tune the cello. When he had finished, Miles tested each of the other stringed instruments, making sure they had kept their tuning. He tucked the cello into a side room, where the other large instruments were being stored. Smaller instruments — flutes, violins, trumpets — would be brought from home and stored in the lockers toward the back of the practice room, but with trombones, drums, and double bass, there was no way he could expect students to carry their instruments to and from school every day.
While he waited for the bassoonist to show up, Miles went down the seating chart for the orchestra one last time. The afternoon could easily end in disaster — he was going to name Haru as concertmaster instead of James. It would have to be handled delicately. By the end of the day, he could easily be down a violinist or two.
Or four, if the other two nekos took offence to being passed over.
He sighed, leaning back in a folding chair. The woodwind class would be easier to manage. Aaron was a much better oboist than Daitan, and the neko never seemed interested in usurping the human’s position. The only concern in that section was bringing in the new bassoonist.
Making a few more notes on the seating chart, Miles glanced at the clock. Nine o’clock. And no bassoonist. Maybe they’d run into traffic. Maybe they’d overslept. It didn’t matter. They’d missed the audition, and that meant he’d have to adjust the year’s music. Or try to get Daitan onto a bassoon instead of an oboe. That would not be a simple change.
Someone knocked on the door.
Miles didn’t bother calling for them to come in. Opening the door, he stepped back, letting the neko into the room.
They were short, even for a neko. Even for an Ythin. They clutched a viola case in their calico hand, and their yellow eyes stared at Miles in some mixture of awe and fear.
“Novsh, chi minii khani!”
“Excuse me?”
The neko glanced away quickly, taking a shaky breath.
“Nothing. My apologies, that was rude of me,” they said quickly. “I’m Kurt Chono. I’m here for the viola audition.”
“Then you’re in the right spot.” Miles smiled, motioning toward a chair with a stand in front of it. “Please, have a seat. You can take your time warming up.”
Kurt sat down, smoothing the hem of their shirt over a pair of skinny jeans. They took a few moments to run through their scales and a simple etude. Their nose flared, and Miles frowned.
“Is my scent bothering you?”
“I- no… no, not at all.” Kurt breathed, their eyes closed. “Just… unexpected. Do you want the solo first?”
“Please,” Miles said.
There was a moment of silence as Kurt set a tablet on the music stand. Then their foot tapped the floor quietly, and they raised their viola.
The first note was strained. Miles could already tell they were trying too hard. He held up his hand.
“Relax. I want you to succeed, Kurt. The worst that can happen here is you join the symphony instead.”
Kurt nodded, gulping the surrounding air. They let out a breath, their shoulders relaxing just slightly. The heavy breathing, the way their fur bristled… he was dealing with a werewolf.
“Would some peppermint help? Or lemon?”
Another nod and Miles got a bottle of cologne from a desk. He handed it to Kurt, and the werewolf sprayed their finger, before wiping under their nose.
The change was instantaneous. Their shoulders relaxed completely, and they sat up straight in their seat. A finger flicked over their tablet, and Kurt looked back at Miles.
“When you are ready,” the elf said.
A pause, another breath of air. Kurt set their bow to the string.
This time, the note came softly. Growing with each passing count, the sound filled the room. The viola burst into a staccato of higher notes, threatening to sweep Miles away to a meadow of dancing nekos.
“Thank you!” he called, cutting through the song. Standing as Kurt lowered the viola, he crossed the room to sit at the piano in the corner. “What is your duet piece?”
“Um… Esana Chaconne.”
Miles bit his tongue, setting a finger on the keyboard. The Chaconne was better suited to the violin, but it worked with the viola well enough. He’d played it maybe twice in the actual auditions a week earlier, but he hadn’t touched the viola transposition yet.
Still, with straightened back and freshly warmed fingers, the elf prepared to give it more than his best shot.
The piano was mournful, a low, slow lament starting the song. Two bars in, the viola gave a complimentary voice to the piano. It took another four bars for Miles to stop.
“How much work have you done with other musicians?”
“I was in the orchestra at my old school. First chair,” Kurt said, almost defensively.
“You’re used to being part of a section. One collection of instruments playing the same sound. In chamber music, you won’t have a viola section backing you up. You succeed or fail on your own merit, and failure brings down the entire group.” Miles held up a hand, forestalling the argument he could see forming in Kurt’s eyes. “Your playing is good. But you haven’t learned to speak with the other musicians. And that is what chamber orchestra is all about; having a conversation with your fellow musicians. You play one part. The other viola plays something different. Together, you create music.”
He stood up, glancing at the clock overhead.
“I expect you back here for fifth period, ready to learn. It’s going to be hard, but if you put your all into this, I think you could do well in the orchestra.”
Kurt’s face lit up.
“I swear I won’t disappoint you,” they said, setting their viola carefully in their case.
“You can leave your viola in locker S18, so you don’t have to carry it around all day.”
Miles pointed toward the storage room and grabbed his seating chart to make one final note. He waited for Kurt to leave before setting nametags on the chairs for the younger students who had first-period woodwind. There was still so much he had to do.

I felt some music would be appropriate for this chapter. Please enjoy