Stefan shifted slightly in his seat and sighed. He didn't really enjoy music—or at least not the kind of music these people were playing.
Some of the pieces sounded familiar. Stefan remembered Vasil playing them before, and he even knew the names of a few. It actually made him a bit happy to see these kids weren't able to play them as well as Vasil did. For some of the pieces, it wasn't just the sound or the instrument that was off—it felt like they couldn't convey the emotion the music was meant to deliver.
Of course, that wasn't true for all of them. The fourth performer, who also played the violin, unfortunately played very well.
Stefan knew him. He knew the boy's parents were musicians. He'd seen them a few times at gatherings of his father's high school friends. Stefan guessed this boy's musical experience probably went back to almost the same number of years as his own age—and he silently hoped Vasil never got to hear him play, because he'd probably lose his composure the moment he did.
Two performers after that boy, Vasil stepped onto the stage with steady steps. Stefan could see that he'd listened carefully to Ms. Harmon's advice and had managed to hide his nervousness just as she had instructed. With that confident smile, even Stefan—who had seen Vasil's hands trembling not long ago—couldn't detect a trace of that in him.
Vasil stood at the center of the stage and raised his violin. Stefan noticed the quiet that had fallen over their row; the conversation their mothers had been having earlier had come to a halt.
As Vasil adjusted his violin, Stefan stole a glance at Vasil's mother. She didn't seem too worried. It was only after thinking about it that he remembered she had never heard him play before. Perhaps that was why she wasn't anxious—she didn't know what to expect.
He looked back at Vasil—and that's when he realized Vasil was staring back at him. Their eyes locked, and Stefan held his breath while Vasil took a deep one—and began to play.
It was beautiful. From the sound of the music to the dance of Vasil's fingers on the fingerboard, even the way his gaze shifted from Stefan to the violin. In that moment, Stefan felt as if the music was meant for him alone, and it filled him with a warm sweetness.
Until the realization hit him—and he froze. Whatever this feeling was, it was supposed to disappear once the stress of the exam was over. But here it was, louder than ever.
He tore his eyes away from Vasil and glanced around. He saw Vasil's mother, her mouth open, staring at her son. She seemed to have guessed what the outcome of this performance would be. Just like Stefan now knew—he'd be classmates with that fool for the next three years.
Stefan quickly looked away from Irina. The fear had now turned to worry. What if this feeling never goes away? What would happen to Stefan then?
He tried to think logically. He was still under pressure. The stress of the exam wasn't fully gone yet—after all, it had just ended. And besides, the results hadn't come out yet. Stefan was confident in his answers, but... what if he'd mismarked the choices? Nothing was certain yet.
He had plenty of reasons to be anxious—and he was anxious. So of course, it made sense that he'd be having foolish thoughts right now, didn't it?
He raised his head and looked at Vasil, who was glowing under the stage lights. Looking at him now, Stefan wasn't so sure anymore—about himself, or the pitiful reasons he kept telling himself.
The rhythm of the music had changed, now bursting with new energy. It was as if the piece itself had shifted along with Stefan's emotions. It was clearly still the same composition, but now played with a completely different tone. Stefan didn't know much about music—and didn't care to—but he decided to ask Vasil about it after the performance.
The piece ended. Like the rest of the audience, Stefan stood and applauded his friend. Vasil bowed with a bright smile and, before stepping off the stage, waved to him. Stefan raised his hand a little in return, barely holding onto his smile.
Maybe if Stefan hadn't been so mesmerized by Vasil, he would've noticed his mother staring at him. And maybe, if he had looked a bit more closely, he would have seen the astonishment in her eyes when she recognized something in his expression that Stefan himself was trying so hard to deny.
---
Stefan and his mother were standing outside the school building. Vasil hadn't come out from backstage yet, and they were waiting for him. Irina and Ms. Harmon had been there until a short while ago, but when Irina, with a nervous smile, approached Ms. Harmon—whose eyes still sparkled from remembering her student's performance—and asked to speak with her in private, they had split off from the group.
Stefan had his head down, absentmindedly kicking a small rock, when his mother pulled him from his thoughts.
"That was a really beautiful performance, don't you think?"
Stefan nodded.
"They were all really good..." his mother added.
Stefan disagreed, but he knew she understood even less about music than he did, so he said nothing.
"But Vasil's performance was the best," she said. "I was honestly surprised—he played even better than Khalid!"
Stefan looked up. "You knew he was coming?"
His mother pulled out a small caramel-colored pocket mirror from her bag and checked her simple makeup. "I knew Jacob and Neela's son was about your age. And I figured they'd want him to apply to this school too. But I wasn't sure." She sighed. "I wanted to talk to them a bit, but they left pretty quickly after Vasil's performance!"
She snapped the mirror shut with a soft click and smiled at her son. "Are you upset that two of your friends became rivals?"
Stefan rolled his eyes. "That guy's not my friend."
His mother laughed. "Alright, alright—whatever you say!"
The smile slowly faded from Margaret's face. She softly said, "Stefan, you know you can talk to me about anything, right—"
"—Stefan!!!"
Vasil's loud, excited voice cut her off. Both Stefan and his mother turned to see him bursting out the school doors. He rushed down the steps two at a time and reached them, his eyes sparkling like sunlight on a mirror.
"Did you see my performance???"
Stefan sighed. "Of course I did—I was sitting right there in the hall too!"
Still gripping the violin case tightly, Vasil bounced on his toes. "Well??"
He was clearly waiting for praise—Stefan could see it in every inch of his face. So, forcing a smile, Stefan said, "You were amazing. The best."
"Really?" Vasil asked. "You really think it was amazing?"
He knew he had been better than anyone else—that much was obvious from his grin. And Stefan knew that Vasil knew it too. But it still felt good to hear someone else say it. Vasil had truly nailed it today, so Stefan decided to let him have this one. Just a little.
"You played so much you've gone deaf? I already told you—yes."
"Even better than that guy?"
Stefan played dumb. "What guy?"
Vasil frowned. "You know who I mean!"
Stefan shrugged. "All the instruments sound the same to me. I'm no musician. Like I said, I think you were better than all of them."
Vasil studied his face for a moment, then smiled wide. "Is that so?"
Stefan looked away and scanned the area. That's when he noticed his mother wasn't standing next to him anymore. He turned and spotted her a bit farther off, speaking with Irina and Ms. Harmon. Still watching them, he asked, "You picked a nice piece. What was it called?"
"The Two Grenadiers," Vasil said. "Super challenging too! The key signature changes in the middle!"
Stefan remembered Vasil once telling him that key signatures were like tiny hashtags and b symbols at the start of each line of sheet music, and depending on their placement, the finger positions on the instrument could change. "I also noticed the rhythm changed partway through."
Vasil stretched and said, "Yeah, it was tough to connect with it at first. Ms. Harmon really helped me out."
Stefan, just to keep the conversation going, said, "Really?"
"Yeah," Vasil replied. "The trick is to imagine a story. It starts out strong and steady—like a soldier marching with purpose. Then it softens, like the soldier falls in love and is overwhelmed by something greater than he expected."
Stefan looked at him, a mix of wonder and frustration in his eyes. The frustration had nothing to do with Vasil. "Well, I think that soldier's an idiot. He should focus on his duty."
Vasil sighed. "Can't you for once think about something besides logic and responsibility?"
Stefan opened his mouth to respond—but in the end, he closed it again. Today wasn't his day to win.