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Never Give It Up
Dedicated to everyone in band. Especially percussion. Cuz we're awesome.
~~
"All right, guys. Today, Mr. Roderich Edelstein is going to come and talk to you. For you percussionists, he's the man who fixes all the horns," [1] Mr. Cranston says, looking at your section, "He's heard us play a few songs before and he would like to say a few things. Ah, here he is!"
Everyone in (honors/symphonic/concert/etc) band turned their heads to see a dark haired man with glasses standing at the door. The man was wearing a white dress shirt and navy blue slacks and had a strange curl at the top of his head. You were stationed at the timpani (a drum you can tune, if you didn't already know) which was on the side of the band hall with the door. The man, Mr. Roderich, noticed you staring and smiled at you. You smile back, shyly. Mr. Roderich steps up to the podium and visibly relaxes, as if he were home.
"I'd like to say a few things to all of you. To start things off, you don't know how lucky you guys are. I've been coming here to pick up different horns for fixing and I've always been able to stop and listen to a song or two. You guys sound amazing. Anybody can play notes, heck, you can teach a monkey to play notes, but you all have a gift. See, you have something not many people have. Talent, a love of music. Your teacher, Mr. Cranston, is showing you that. Band and music are both things that can stay with you for the rest of your life. I majored in music and met a beautiful Hungarian girl in marching band. (bear with me) We've been married now for 16 years.
"And I have just one thing to tell you; never give it up. No matter what anybody else says. Never. Give it. Up," he says, stepping away from the podium.
When he finishes everyone claps and you might not have felt it, but something sparked inside of you. A light, a hope. You had always been that (girl/guy) who was too (shy/lazy) to actually go and show (her/his) talent with music, but that was about to change at the spring concert.
~~Duh duh duh dummmm! To the spring concert!!!~~~
It was finally time for your spring performance and you were so nervous you were shaking in your fancy dress shoes. The percussionists had gotten to choose their parts ahead of time and you picked the snare drum. For the song you were playing, there was a huge snare solo. Yep, that's right, snare solo. 'Well, maybe, if time it right, I could go to the restroom and miss out on the performance,' you thought, 'Yeah. That seems reasonable.' Just as you were walking backstage, your friend, (friend 1) comes out and sees you leaving.
"(Name), what are you doing?" (s/he) asks, confused.
"E-er... I have to... go to the bathroom," you say. Well, it was partially true.
"What are you talking about, you have a solo to do!" (Friend 1) then proceeds to push you towards the snare drum, just as the curtain rises, "Now or never, (Name). Good luck!" Then, your friend takes (her/his) seat. Quickly, you mouth to (her/him), 'I'm gonna kill you!' and then smile for all the people in the crowd.
"I'm so going to kill (Friend 1) for doing this," you think.
~~Congrats! You survived your solo!~~
After the curtain went down, you ran to (Friend 1's) seat and pretty much strangled (him/her). After a while, (Friend 2) calmed you down and you three were currently talking backstage. Mr. Roderich, who had come to watch the band play, walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder.
"Oh, hi Mr. Roderich," you say, smiling up at him, "Did you like the performance?"
"Yes, I did. I especially loved the snare solo you did..." he ended his sentence as a question.
"(Name)," you say, "And thank you, I've been practicing." Mr. Roderich smiles, "Good. You have the potential to do amazing, musical things, (Name)."
Mr. Roderich turns on his heel and says, "Make me proud, (name)." And with that, he walked away and you never saw him again.
~~epilogue~~
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! (Name) (Last Name), new musician sweeping the world!" a newspaper boy shouts in Austria.
"May I have one?" a man with glasses and a strange curl asks.
"Sure!" the boy says, taking the money the man offered, "Thanks, mister!"
"No, thank you," Mr. Roderich says, before walking away, "I've been waiting for this issue to come out." When Mr. Roderich arrives home, he greets his wife and sits down in his chair to read the paper, the paper about (Name), the student he helped to realize (her/his) talent.
"Congratulations, (Name). You've made me proud," he whispers to no one.
Dedicated to everyone in band. Especially percussion. Cuz we're awesome.
~~
"All right, guys. Today, Mr. Roderich Edelstein is going to come and talk to you. For you percussionists, he's the man who fixes all the horns," [1] Mr. Cranston says, looking at your section, "He's heard us play a few songs before and he would like to say a few things. Ah, here he is!"
Everyone in (honors/symphonic/concert/etc) band turned their heads to see a dark haired man with glasses standing at the door. The man was wearing a white dress shirt and navy blue slacks and had a strange curl at the top of his head. You were stationed at the timpani (a drum you can tune, if you didn't already know) which was on the side of the band hall with the door. The man, Mr. Roderich, noticed you staring and smiled at you. You smile back, shyly. Mr. Roderich steps up to the podium and visibly relaxes, as if he were home.
"I'd like to say a few things to all of you. To start things off, you don't know how lucky you guys are. I've been coming here to pick up different horns for fixing and I've always been able to stop and listen to a song or two. You guys sound amazing. Anybody can play notes, heck, you can teach a monkey to play notes, but you all have a gift. See, you have something not many people have. Talent, a love of music. Your teacher, Mr. Cranston, is showing you that. Band and music are both things that can stay with you for the rest of your life. I majored in music and met a beautiful Hungarian girl in marching band. (bear with me) We've been married now for 16 years.
"And I have just one thing to tell you; never give it up. No matter what anybody else says. Never. Give it. Up," he says, stepping away from the podium.
When he finishes everyone claps and you might not have felt it, but something sparked inside of you. A light, a hope. You had always been that (girl/guy) who was too (shy/lazy) to actually go and show (her/his) talent with music, but that was about to change at the spring concert.
~~Duh duh duh dummmm! To the spring concert!!!~~~
It was finally time for your spring performance and you were so nervous you were shaking in your fancy dress shoes. The percussionists had gotten to choose their parts ahead of time and you picked the snare drum. For the song you were playing, there was a huge snare solo. Yep, that's right, snare solo. 'Well, maybe, if time it right, I could go to the restroom and miss out on the performance,' you thought, 'Yeah. That seems reasonable.' Just as you were walking backstage, your friend, (friend 1) comes out and sees you leaving.
"(Name), what are you doing?" (s/he) asks, confused.
"E-er... I have to... go to the bathroom," you say. Well, it was partially true.
"What are you talking about, you have a solo to do!" (Friend 1) then proceeds to push you towards the snare drum, just as the curtain rises, "Now or never, (Name). Good luck!" Then, your friend takes (her/his) seat. Quickly, you mouth to (her/him), 'I'm gonna kill you!' and then smile for all the people in the crowd.
"I'm so going to kill (Friend 1) for doing this," you think.
~~Congrats! You survived your solo!~~
After the curtain went down, you ran to (Friend 1's) seat and pretty much strangled (him/her). After a while, (Friend 2) calmed you down and you three were currently talking backstage. Mr. Roderich, who had come to watch the band play, walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder.
"Oh, hi Mr. Roderich," you say, smiling up at him, "Did you like the performance?"
"Yes, I did. I especially loved the snare solo you did..." he ended his sentence as a question.
"(Name)," you say, "And thank you, I've been practicing." Mr. Roderich smiles, "Good. You have the potential to do amazing, musical things, (Name)."
Mr. Roderich turns on his heel and says, "Make me proud, (name)." And with that, he walked away and you never saw him again.
~~epilogue~~
"Extra! Extra! Read all about it! (Name) (Last Name), new musician sweeping the world!" a newspaper boy shouts in Austria.
"May I have one?" a man with glasses and a strange curl asks.
"Sure!" the boy says, taking the money the man offered, "Thanks, mister!"
"No, thank you," Mr. Roderich says, before walking away, "I've been waiting for this issue to come out." When Mr. Roderich arrives home, he greets his wife and sits down in his chair to read the paper, the paper about (Name), the student he helped to realize (her/his) talent.
"Congratulations, (Name). You've made me proud," he whispers to no one.
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------------Meanwhile…
You walked out of your class anxious and a bit worn out. Elizaveta smiled at you and said "Hey (First Name), you sure you don`t want to go with us?"
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How Dare Austria tell me to stay away from my own Property? I'll show him the awesome me doesn't give up that easily I just need a little help but I'll be back. Back at my house I called my two friends to come to my house in a flash I heard the door bell ring. I was about to shout to (Name) to get it when I remembered she was no longer there, and she was also the reason I called them here.
"Guten Tag Guys come in" I said as I open the door.
"Hola Prussia so good to see you!" Spain said as he gave me a hug. My other friend France looked a bit disappointed.
"Prussia, where is that cute Maid you have? I though she would an
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Hey guys! Mady, here! This fic was inspired when a nice man named Mr. Lou Fought came to my band at school and kinda gave us a pep talk. He's the man who fixes the horns. Yeah, I get inspiration from the weirdest things! So... [1] Mr. Cranston is my band director at school. I give you props if you know which school I go to now! I couldn't think up another name so, yeah. And about the timpani, I give you a cookie if you knew what it was before I told you! Anywho, I'm gonna stop running my mouth and stop wasting your time!
Personified countries, Hetalia:
Preview Pic: Not mine, found here: [link] Jk. Rowling. This is it: [link]
You: Prussia You
Story: Me
Personified countries, Hetalia:
Preview Pic: Not mine, found here: [link] Jk. Rowling. This is it: [link]
You:
Story: Me
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Comments69
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I flipped out when I read this. I LOVE FANFICTIONS THAT INVOLVE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS THAT THE READER PLAYS OTHER THAN A FLUTE OR SOMETHING! (I don't mean to be rude, but most of the girls in my band play either flute or clarinet, and most girls that play an instrument are in orchestra )
Even though I'm a trombone player, I still enjoyed this since the trombone section in my band is right next to the timponis and the rest of the percussion section.