[RP LOG] Seifer, Megumi - Not Friends But Friends But Not
Characters: Seifer Almasy [pure_ego], Yamamura Megumi [pinkenglishrose]
Time: Friday Afternoon.
Where: Music Practice Room.
Rating: PG [It's Seifer, he'll be using language that pisses people off. D:]
Warnings: Lots of attitude and thinking. >>"
The last echoes of a fading note lingered in the air in one of the empty practice rooms as Seifer's attention finally dropped entirely from the music and he set his bow down on the chair beside him with a half-disgusted, half-resigned exhalation. What the hell had convinced him that this was going to be a good idea was something lost in far-back memory. He remembered the old orchestra in his school, the one he'd absolutely refused to be associated with, not to mention the fact that it hadn't been considered all too cool to even play an instrument; his private lessons, he'd enjoyed, but only the two closest of his friends had even known that he'd known how to play. But here it seemed as if almost everyone played something, and the lure of a possibly highly skilled group or even a highly skilled director...
But still, a bad idea. He'd forgotten how hard it was to concentrate on playing, especially if he was alone, and getting through this class, which depended entirely upon his ability to do that, was turning out to be harder than he'd expected. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on practicing these ridiculous scale-and-arpeggio sheets when he could be playing something that actually meant something, that held some kind of feeling, that actually was music? And even if it was the song he'd prepared to play for Oriya, how the hell was he supposed to concentrate on that when all it did was make him think of other things, of other scenes, of people and places that didn't exist, yet, until, unless he--
God damn it. No. Not the time for your fucking daydreams, Almasy. Pull yourself the hell together. You have a skill exam to pass and pass like hell so you don't get stuck with idiots who are going to piss you off the entire year. Concentrate.
And yet...
Fuck. He hadn't remembered it being quite this impossible.
Having checked the other practice rooms, Megumi finally decided apon the last one as she glanced to her class map. Professor Oriya had said that they had to work on a small solo performance to see where they would be in the class and she knew she couldn't very well get a harpsichord in, so she had grabbed her notes for the piano and decided she may as well practice something easy to perform for class. It was better than trying to struggle with adapting something from the harpsichord on the spot, even though she was rather used to it. Not that anyone would appreciate it as much as they would a piano, but somehow she knew that Professor Oriya would be able to tell if she was trying to adlib and had no backup to work with. She knew she could work on this on the piano for a few minutes and once her fingers were relaxed, she could perform for the class.
She only had about an hour at most to do that, though. She wished Professor Oriya had given them more time to work with this, but he had wanted to see something that could be recalled at that moment and played with ease as he'd informed her when she'd gone to speak with him about his message on the network, so.. she sighed, stepping towards the room that she had picked out (and lucky for her, seemed silent so she could possibly practice alone) and turned the door handle to push it open. The music practice rooms on this floor were supposed to be equipped so she could probably find something to work on and--
She paused as she realised she'd just walked in on someone. Her eyes widened briefly, then she blinked when she noted the person wasn't doing anything and took a step in. "Oh, sorry.." she spoke then, glancing up at the person occupying the room. "Are you going to be using.." her voice trailed off when she realised she recognised who the other was. Blond hair, scar across his face, yes, she'd seen the face on the network. Recognition shining in her eyes, she couldn't help but smile lightly and asked, "Seifer...?" yes, the same guy who had normally been about moments away from making her wish she'd never spoken to him. However, when she saw him in person, she began to think he didn't look quite so bad. So, he was in music class as well? Perhaps he had class before her. Wondering whether she was bothering him, she moved a hand in the direction of the piano and smiled weakly.
"Sorry to bother you. Professor Oriya said that he wanted the sophomores using the practice rooms to clear out after fifteen minutes for the class so the third-years could use them." wow, how had that sounded? Shifting the papers from her hands to a nearby desk, she set her bag down and began to pull her schedule out. ".. Surprise seeing you here, though."
Seifer jerked backward, head spinning away from the window as he heard the door to the practice room open, and it was only with luck that he caught the edge of his music stand and steadied it without dropping any of the sheet music onto the floor. Who the hell was it, was the first question that shot through his head, replaced by the second and more important question, what the hell did they want? It was one thing to be sitting alone and not being able to concentrate, but that hadn't meant that he'd actually wanted company, or that company might necessarily help him. He looked up, glancing over the piano at the person that had just walked in, completely ignoring the polite apologetic phrases, one eyebrow rising in somewhat scornful curiosity until she came closer, at which point he recognized her, and it turned into full-out annoyance.
Oh, great. Just what he needed. That girl, what was her name? Who'd been bothering him about change, or being himself, or being nice, or some other unimportant thing that he couldn't remember. Had he ever even found out her name? Probably not. It wasn't as if he'd cared. And from the looks of her, it didn't seem as if she was all too excited about seeing him here, either.
"So I'll be out in fifteen," Seifer responded with an unconcerned shrug of one shoulder, turning to look at the sheet music he wasn't actually reading, ignoring the sudden and distinct uncomfortableness in the air and trying once again to concentrate on the music. Not that it helped. Trying to go over the notes again under the as-yet-nameless girl's scrutiny was even worse than being alone, measures running in and straight back out of his memory. Fifteen minutes until he had to go and perform... He knew the piece by heart, but his heart didn't help his fingers any.
He shot a glance over at as-yet-nameless girl, who seemed to have decided that she was going to take over the room after him, and glanced at the clock on the wall, resisting the urge to tap his foot while waiting for her to be done organizing whatever papers she had in her bag or whatever she was doing. "And I know my being here is complete shock. No one has ever played the cello before. What, are you going to sit in here and watch me until I go?"
Great. He was just as bad in real life, she found herself thinking as she finally pulled out the note sheets that she wanted, then closed the top of her bag and blinked as Seifer spoke to her. Not that she'd really expected some sort of dramatic difference between how he wrote and how he was speaking to her now, though she had hoped she wouldn't have the luck of running into him. Some prayers just ended up going unanswered. Releasing a small sigh, she glanced up at him before turning her attention towards the piano and heading towards it, setting her bag down by the seat and adjusting her uniform when she finally sat down. She wasn't here to argue with him, she just wanted her work to get done. But her curiosity had been piqued, he hadn't been doing much of anything if at all, so she wondered if he was here for something else. "I doubt you'd like that and I doubt I have the time for that." she replied calmly. She didn't mind talking to him, but that way he managed to twist her words and intent to something that it wasn't frustrated her. She wondered why that was usually brought on and maybe if she didn't talk, he'd continue working as he was and would leave soon anyway.
The piano was a regular baby grand one (for which she was grateful, she was so used to the usage of pedals that she knew it would have taken her a little more time than normal to have adapted this song to a keyboard) and she lifted the lid off the keys, glancing down and mentally adapting to her new playing field. She knew she should be used to being able to adapting to change, but it wasn't any easier when she tried. Playing a basic tune with her right hand, she then glanced to a side, moving her left hand to follow suit with her right, merely testing the keys and setting her foot on the pedals to check the sound.
"I don't know many who play the cello, though. That's rather impressive." she commented, looking up to face him. "How long have you been playing it?" if he was bothered, she'd shut up. A light smile in his direction, she turned to open and set out her notes, scanning over them and playing a few main chords.
"Long enough."
And just like he'd expected, she was another one of those nicey-nice annoying ones that made random small talk as if they actually expected him to care or respond or make pointless comments or ask pointless questions in return. Even better. The compliment hadn't been lost on him, of course, but it wasn't as if he generally took compliments humbly or anything anyway. And the fact that she had obviously decided to sit and practice here where she could watch him try the same and fail probably irritated him more than it should.
Dammit, how was he supposed to concentrate now? And even if he could, what if it happened again, that spacing out in the middle of the song? It usually didn't happen when he wasn't alone, but that wasn't something he was going to be willingly explaining to anyone any time soon.
But with every passing moment went another few seconds of the short time he had left... Switch rooms? Just move everything over? No time. Not worth the trouble. No choice. He was just going to have to play and hope for the best. At least the girl was practicing too, and not just sitting there watching him.
Wait. Hope for the best? At least she's practicing? Aww, is Almasy feeling insecure?
That brought a smirk to his lips as he picked up his bow again, shaking his head at himself and glancing up at the girl at the piano as he shifted his music stand a bit closer in front of him. Why the hell was he so bothered, anyway? So what if he stopped in the middle to stare out the window again, he didn't have to answer her or anybody else's questions, and without getting through this at least once, there was no way he was going to ace the music teacher's assessment. Which, screw all daydreams and whatever the hell, was currently the point.
"Not planning to watch? Maybe you should. I usually don't do this for free."
There was no way he was going to mess up after saying something like that.
She did pause, to organise her notes than to watch, needing to go over the notes in her head when Seifer began to play. She wasn't going to interrupt him while he was playing by playing something entirely different, that wasn't the point of practice and what a horrible mishmash of music that'd be. Besides, he had a few minutes, she'd have more than an hour to work on her practice, so she didn't mind doing a selection of her own and mentally practicing the song out before she really began to play. She knew she could play better when she was relaxed and that would be better for her mentally. Well-aware that her presence wasn't entirely welcome, she decided she'd wait until he left to practice anything she had to. His answer, while simple and vague enough to show he wasn't interested in speaking with her, was also somewhat distracted and she wondered if he was alright. She'd been around enough performers and people to know when their heart was set into what they were doing and when it wasn't.
So she sighed, closing her eyes and stretching her hands out before her, her fingers entertwined with the opposite hand's to get them feeling a little more tense before she relaxed them and closed them into her palms, before fanning them out over the keys, releasing a small breath. At his words, she merely cast a glance over her shoulder to see what he was doing and wondering what that statement was about, she did end up watching him, if simply curious to see how he was playing.
She'd had seven years of violin practice until she switched to playing the piano and harpsichord full-time because it had been a bit too time-consuming on her prior. It fascinated her to see such a large instrument being handled with decent ease and she remained silent as she heard Seifer play, her gaze taking on a thoughtful look as she tried to relate his playing to a violin, then a viola, and mentally sorted the instruments into an orchestra, then found herself smiling to herself as she turned back to the piano, her ear on the notes being played. She listened to them carefully, realising she recognised the piece, but not the name of it. She wanted to ask Seifer what it was, but didn't want to risk the mood and when she turned, enough for him to possibly not catch the smile that had appeared on her face, she let her fingers travel over the keys and once she had the song that Seifer was playing in her head, she cast him one more look, and began to play the background notes, her gaze going back to the white keys as she used the damper, letting her chords fall into a more muted sound to support the main tune that the other was playing.
And if he says anything, I'll smack my textbook over his head. she found herself thinking, glancing up again, realising she rather liked this piece even if she couldn't recall it's name. Oh well, at the very least, he'd given her something to work with to stretch her fingers and playing without realising it. Hm.. she knew that that had been a mostly strings-piece, so..
"I'd rather play along. That's a good tune." she commented finally, glancing at the keys and seeing which ones would follow as she played them out, calmly following into beat with his playing and glancing up to see if he'd look up so she could pass him a smile. She couldn't help it, she wasn't telling him to smile back at her and she shrugged then, glancing back as she continued to play. This wasn't something she'd expected she'd be doing with Seifer of all people, but it was somewhat nice, to be able to play on her own instincts for a while.
Seifer heard her voice, but her words passed over his head as he frowned slightly, throwing himself entirely into his music and slowly forgetting that she was even still there. And strangely enough, for all his personal confidence and arrogance, none of it carried over into the long, slow notes that emerged from his cello--and a good thing too, for it that would have set the entirely wrong mood. If anything, he did know how to play well, and playing well meant you let the music take you instead of taking the music, especially for a song like this, and music was one of those very rare things that Seifer would let overpower his ego, at least if he were playing it.
The soft background notes did register in his hearing, however, and a small part of him appreciated that, as well as registered something like a little bit of respect for the girl who was playing them. It wasn't a hard piece, but just the fact that she'd obviously heard of it said something, and the fact that she knew it well enough to play along said more. Not much more, but more. And it was helping, a little, since he didn't have to imagine the background music himself, letting him keep his attention on his own part. Maybe this playing with other people thing wasn't so bad, if he could just use them for accompaniment, heh.
Still, it didn't help enough to keep him entirely focused, and as the last note of the piece faded in the air, Seifer was back to thinking again, carried by the music into somewhere beyond the music room. What did it remind him of? Who, maybe, was the question. He'd picked this piece because he'd always been told to pick something that had meaning to him for first impressions, but he'd never been able to pinpoint exactly what the meaning was, only that it... meant something. And it made him think...
Right. Not right now. Oriya was going to be expecting him soon. Gathering his thoughts with a quick shake of the head, Seifer leaned forward, beginning to organize his sheet music and pack up his cello, getting ready to leave. But, right, the girl.
"You. Sweets. Muffin. Some kind of pie. Whatever your name is," he started with a dismissive wave of one hand, "you're not too bad. You ever want to be my piano bitch again, you let me know. I might actually be able to put you to use."
He wasn't bad at all, she found herself thinking. Earlier on she'd thought the same for someone she'd met and decided that there was indeed talent where she hadn't expected it to be. Not that she was really a judge of such things, but she had an ear for music that she knew was definitely something worth considering. And as she raised her gaze to watch the expression on Seifer's face, she saw intense concentration that was usually a sign of respect for what he was playing. It was rather endearing in a way and she couldn't help but be happy about it - as well as wonder about how amazing it was that someone with an attitude like his could play something so pretty and continue to be as he was. He was quite a contradiction unto himself, she couldn't help but think. Normally the whole 'he's trying to be something while really being something else' thinking would come into the picture, but that was rather flawed; if he wished to be that something, he would have done it. Which obviously meant that was territory they weren't allowed into.
Not that it had ever stopped her. She noted that he didn't stop playing, a good sign, because he had a clear enough flow to what he was playing and it was helping her recall the fragments of the song she knew had no name for now to play the background, picking up in pace when the song went forward, her mind drifting only to visualise a scenario in her head to go with the melody.
Something's obviously on his mind. she found herself thinking, her gaze partly on him once the notes died down, her own mind not focused on him entirely, but putting the finishing touches on the visual scene in her mind that had gone with the music. I wonder if that's what makes him so frustrated.. or obnoxious. He had a creative release, she thought to herself, then why was he so harsh regardless? She sighed inside, that wasn't her business and she didn't think she really had the time to discuss it even if it was.
Looking up as Seifer began to talk, she noted once again the way he snapped himself out of some self-induced haze and moved her hands back into her lap, massaging the digits and--
She blinked. Twice.
Did he just not insult her? Not that he had any reason to, she knew she had probably been accompanying him as well as he'd been playing, but even then, the thought that he had bothered to even say what he had seemed so hilarious that she couldn't help but grin, her expression taking on a rather assured look and she turned to him as he adressed her.
"It's Megumi, Seifer." he hadn't asked for it, but it was preferable over Muffin or-- Piano bitch?! oh god, she thought, breaking into light laughter as she shook her head, still laughing. "How unexpected. Sure, I guess.. I wouldn't mind, provided you don't call me that." that was somewhat of a welcome distraction. Then, she turned to organise her own notes and asked, "... You seemed a little distracted.. what were you thinking about?" she didn't know any way else to phrase it. ".. and on that note, what was the name of that song? I remembered the tune, but I didn't recall the name.. it was Apocalyptica's, wasn't it?" glancing up at the time then, she then turned to look back at him, still holding her sheet music. ".. hm. Guess we'll have to continue this conversation some other time."
"Meg, Piano Bitch, same difference." Seifer smirked a little when she laughed, placing the last of his music into the thin black school-issue orchestra folder and shoving it into his cello case. But he didn't turn down the acceptance, just tossing her an arrogant glance over his shoulder and giving her another dismissive flick of a wrist. "Long as you're accompanying me, I doubt anyone's going to care what your name is."
His eyebrows rose at the mention of something on his mind, however, and he paused on his way up to his feet, crouching by his cello case and shaking his head again. "What, now I'm not allowed to think?" Another smirk. "Explains a lot of the students around here." The smirk, widening into something like haughty amusement. "If you're really that curious, maybe I might tell you, sometime before I become explosively famous. But don't count on it."
A glance at the clock had him hurrying to his feet, picking up his instrument, and kicking the chair and music stand that he'd been using back into place. Five minutes left: just enough time for him to make it to Oriya's classroom and set up there. He started for the door, carefully maneuvering around the rows of chairs--then paused again, for just a few seconds, by the piano at which Megumi sat.
"Apocalyptica? I'm surprised you've heard of them. Did a friend with taste clue you in?" Again, that obnoxious, condescending smirk, accompanied by a half-amused sidelong glance. "The song," he informed her grandly, "is called 'Romance.'"
With that, he was out the door and gone.
There he went again, reading into her words when they weren't at all intended to be the way he was taking them. She was quite used to it by now and she figured it wasn't too bad. What, she had an eccentric and sarcastic grandmother back home who acted like she was the ruler of the world, Seifer was hardly going to be a problem to her, until and unless he started getting too personal where he shouldn't be and she highly doubted that he would. Which was really good enough for them both, she believed. Not that she would have minded being his friend, but he didn't seem to want her as one and she wasn't going to insist apon it. Still, she could safely say with what just happened, they'd probably found some even ground. That thought on it's own wasn't too bad.
She made a face at being called piano bitch again, but having lived in London her entire life made that more an easier thing to be called among others so she didn't comment. So she commented, "Whatever.." quite calmly, though a smirk appeared on her face at his comment and shrugged. "You'll tell me if you want. If you don't, it's all good." though she did blink at his comment about her knowing who had performed the song and peered at him even as he began to move away, rolling her eyes and commented, "I happen to listen to modern music myself, as surprising as that may sound to you, apparently." though as he gave her the name of the song, she felt slightly sheepish, she hadn't known the name and that did make her attention a little pointless but she wasn't going to say anything. Though her gaze did soften at the song title, looking back down at her notes as he left and pulling out the one she wanted to play.
".. so that's it." she murmured to no one in particular. Whether in reference to the song title or to what she had just suspected about Seifer, it was unclear, but she had the suspicion and the assurance that regardless, she'd be finding out what Seifer's distraction was about soon enough, and if she didn't, she could always do what he did.. make assumptions about what he meant what he spoke. And that on it's own could prove fruitful to keep an energetic conversation going without the insults, or so she hoped.
As she turned her gaze back to her musical notes, she smiled, setting her fingers down on the keys. After three beats, she began to play.
Time: Friday Afternoon.
Where: Music Practice Room.
Rating: PG [It's Seifer, he'll be using language that pisses people off. D:]
Warnings: Lots of attitude and thinking. >>"
The last echoes of a fading note lingered in the air in one of the empty practice rooms as Seifer's attention finally dropped entirely from the music and he set his bow down on the chair beside him with a half-disgusted, half-resigned exhalation. What the hell had convinced him that this was going to be a good idea was something lost in far-back memory. He remembered the old orchestra in his school, the one he'd absolutely refused to be associated with, not to mention the fact that it hadn't been considered all too cool to even play an instrument; his private lessons, he'd enjoyed, but only the two closest of his friends had even known that he'd known how to play. But here it seemed as if almost everyone played something, and the lure of a possibly highly skilled group or even a highly skilled director...
But still, a bad idea. He'd forgotten how hard it was to concentrate on playing, especially if he was alone, and getting through this class, which depended entirely upon his ability to do that, was turning out to be harder than he'd expected. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate on practicing these ridiculous scale-and-arpeggio sheets when he could be playing something that actually meant something, that held some kind of feeling, that actually was music? And even if it was the song he'd prepared to play for Oriya, how the hell was he supposed to concentrate on that when all it did was make him think of other things, of other scenes, of people and places that didn't exist, yet, until, unless he--
God damn it. No. Not the time for your fucking daydreams, Almasy. Pull yourself the hell together. You have a skill exam to pass and pass like hell so you don't get stuck with idiots who are going to piss you off the entire year. Concentrate.
And yet...
Fuck. He hadn't remembered it being quite this impossible.
Having checked the other practice rooms, Megumi finally decided apon the last one as she glanced to her class map. Professor Oriya had said that they had to work on a small solo performance to see where they would be in the class and she knew she couldn't very well get a harpsichord in, so she had grabbed her notes for the piano and decided she may as well practice something easy to perform for class. It was better than trying to struggle with adapting something from the harpsichord on the spot, even though she was rather used to it. Not that anyone would appreciate it as much as they would a piano, but somehow she knew that Professor Oriya would be able to tell if she was trying to adlib and had no backup to work with. She knew she could work on this on the piano for a few minutes and once her fingers were relaxed, she could perform for the class.
She only had about an hour at most to do that, though. She wished Professor Oriya had given them more time to work with this, but he had wanted to see something that could be recalled at that moment and played with ease as he'd informed her when she'd gone to speak with him about his message on the network, so.. she sighed, stepping towards the room that she had picked out (and lucky for her, seemed silent so she could possibly practice alone) and turned the door handle to push it open. The music practice rooms on this floor were supposed to be equipped so she could probably find something to work on and--
She paused as she realised she'd just walked in on someone. Her eyes widened briefly, then she blinked when she noted the person wasn't doing anything and took a step in. "Oh, sorry.." she spoke then, glancing up at the person occupying the room. "Are you going to be using.." her voice trailed off when she realised she recognised who the other was. Blond hair, scar across his face, yes, she'd seen the face on the network. Recognition shining in her eyes, she couldn't help but smile lightly and asked, "Seifer...?" yes, the same guy who had normally been about moments away from making her wish she'd never spoken to him. However, when she saw him in person, she began to think he didn't look quite so bad. So, he was in music class as well? Perhaps he had class before her. Wondering whether she was bothering him, she moved a hand in the direction of the piano and smiled weakly.
"Sorry to bother you. Professor Oriya said that he wanted the sophomores using the practice rooms to clear out after fifteen minutes for the class so the third-years could use them." wow, how had that sounded? Shifting the papers from her hands to a nearby desk, she set her bag down and began to pull her schedule out. ".. Surprise seeing you here, though."
Seifer jerked backward, head spinning away from the window as he heard the door to the practice room open, and it was only with luck that he caught the edge of his music stand and steadied it without dropping any of the sheet music onto the floor. Who the hell was it, was the first question that shot through his head, replaced by the second and more important question, what the hell did they want? It was one thing to be sitting alone and not being able to concentrate, but that hadn't meant that he'd actually wanted company, or that company might necessarily help him. He looked up, glancing over the piano at the person that had just walked in, completely ignoring the polite apologetic phrases, one eyebrow rising in somewhat scornful curiosity until she came closer, at which point he recognized her, and it turned into full-out annoyance.
Oh, great. Just what he needed. That girl, what was her name? Who'd been bothering him about change, or being himself, or being nice, or some other unimportant thing that he couldn't remember. Had he ever even found out her name? Probably not. It wasn't as if he'd cared. And from the looks of her, it didn't seem as if she was all too excited about seeing him here, either.
"So I'll be out in fifteen," Seifer responded with an unconcerned shrug of one shoulder, turning to look at the sheet music he wasn't actually reading, ignoring the sudden and distinct uncomfortableness in the air and trying once again to concentrate on the music. Not that it helped. Trying to go over the notes again under the as-yet-nameless girl's scrutiny was even worse than being alone, measures running in and straight back out of his memory. Fifteen minutes until he had to go and perform... He knew the piece by heart, but his heart didn't help his fingers any.
He shot a glance over at as-yet-nameless girl, who seemed to have decided that she was going to take over the room after him, and glanced at the clock on the wall, resisting the urge to tap his foot while waiting for her to be done organizing whatever papers she had in her bag or whatever she was doing. "And I know my being here is complete shock. No one has ever played the cello before. What, are you going to sit in here and watch me until I go?"
Great. He was just as bad in real life, she found herself thinking as she finally pulled out the note sheets that she wanted, then closed the top of her bag and blinked as Seifer spoke to her. Not that she'd really expected some sort of dramatic difference between how he wrote and how he was speaking to her now, though she had hoped she wouldn't have the luck of running into him. Some prayers just ended up going unanswered. Releasing a small sigh, she glanced up at him before turning her attention towards the piano and heading towards it, setting her bag down by the seat and adjusting her uniform when she finally sat down. She wasn't here to argue with him, she just wanted her work to get done. But her curiosity had been piqued, he hadn't been doing much of anything if at all, so she wondered if he was here for something else. "I doubt you'd like that and I doubt I have the time for that." she replied calmly. She didn't mind talking to him, but that way he managed to twist her words and intent to something that it wasn't frustrated her. She wondered why that was usually brought on and maybe if she didn't talk, he'd continue working as he was and would leave soon anyway.
The piano was a regular baby grand one (for which she was grateful, she was so used to the usage of pedals that she knew it would have taken her a little more time than normal to have adapted this song to a keyboard) and she lifted the lid off the keys, glancing down and mentally adapting to her new playing field. She knew she should be used to being able to adapting to change, but it wasn't any easier when she tried. Playing a basic tune with her right hand, she then glanced to a side, moving her left hand to follow suit with her right, merely testing the keys and setting her foot on the pedals to check the sound.
"I don't know many who play the cello, though. That's rather impressive." she commented, looking up to face him. "How long have you been playing it?" if he was bothered, she'd shut up. A light smile in his direction, she turned to open and set out her notes, scanning over them and playing a few main chords.
"Long enough."
And just like he'd expected, she was another one of those nicey-nice annoying ones that made random small talk as if they actually expected him to care or respond or make pointless comments or ask pointless questions in return. Even better. The compliment hadn't been lost on him, of course, but it wasn't as if he generally took compliments humbly or anything anyway. And the fact that she had obviously decided to sit and practice here where she could watch him try the same and fail probably irritated him more than it should.
Dammit, how was he supposed to concentrate now? And even if he could, what if it happened again, that spacing out in the middle of the song? It usually didn't happen when he wasn't alone, but that wasn't something he was going to be willingly explaining to anyone any time soon.
But with every passing moment went another few seconds of the short time he had left... Switch rooms? Just move everything over? No time. Not worth the trouble. No choice. He was just going to have to play and hope for the best. At least the girl was practicing too, and not just sitting there watching him.
Wait. Hope for the best? At least she's practicing? Aww, is Almasy feeling insecure?
That brought a smirk to his lips as he picked up his bow again, shaking his head at himself and glancing up at the girl at the piano as he shifted his music stand a bit closer in front of him. Why the hell was he so bothered, anyway? So what if he stopped in the middle to stare out the window again, he didn't have to answer her or anybody else's questions, and without getting through this at least once, there was no way he was going to ace the music teacher's assessment. Which, screw all daydreams and whatever the hell, was currently the point.
"Not planning to watch? Maybe you should. I usually don't do this for free."
There was no way he was going to mess up after saying something like that.
She did pause, to organise her notes than to watch, needing to go over the notes in her head when Seifer began to play. She wasn't going to interrupt him while he was playing by playing something entirely different, that wasn't the point of practice and what a horrible mishmash of music that'd be. Besides, he had a few minutes, she'd have more than an hour to work on her practice, so she didn't mind doing a selection of her own and mentally practicing the song out before she really began to play. She knew she could play better when she was relaxed and that would be better for her mentally. Well-aware that her presence wasn't entirely welcome, she decided she'd wait until he left to practice anything she had to. His answer, while simple and vague enough to show he wasn't interested in speaking with her, was also somewhat distracted and she wondered if he was alright. She'd been around enough performers and people to know when their heart was set into what they were doing and when it wasn't.
So she sighed, closing her eyes and stretching her hands out before her, her fingers entertwined with the opposite hand's to get them feeling a little more tense before she relaxed them and closed them into her palms, before fanning them out over the keys, releasing a small breath. At his words, she merely cast a glance over her shoulder to see what he was doing and wondering what that statement was about, she did end up watching him, if simply curious to see how he was playing.
She'd had seven years of violin practice until she switched to playing the piano and harpsichord full-time because it had been a bit too time-consuming on her prior. It fascinated her to see such a large instrument being handled with decent ease and she remained silent as she heard Seifer play, her gaze taking on a thoughtful look as she tried to relate his playing to a violin, then a viola, and mentally sorted the instruments into an orchestra, then found herself smiling to herself as she turned back to the piano, her ear on the notes being played. She listened to them carefully, realising she recognised the piece, but not the name of it. She wanted to ask Seifer what it was, but didn't want to risk the mood and when she turned, enough for him to possibly not catch the smile that had appeared on her face, she let her fingers travel over the keys and once she had the song that Seifer was playing in her head, she cast him one more look, and began to play the background notes, her gaze going back to the white keys as she used the damper, letting her chords fall into a more muted sound to support the main tune that the other was playing.
And if he says anything, I'll smack my textbook over his head. she found herself thinking, glancing up again, realising she rather liked this piece even if she couldn't recall it's name. Oh well, at the very least, he'd given her something to work with to stretch her fingers and playing without realising it. Hm.. she knew that that had been a mostly strings-piece, so..
"I'd rather play along. That's a good tune." she commented finally, glancing at the keys and seeing which ones would follow as she played them out, calmly following into beat with his playing and glancing up to see if he'd look up so she could pass him a smile. She couldn't help it, she wasn't telling him to smile back at her and she shrugged then, glancing back as she continued to play. This wasn't something she'd expected she'd be doing with Seifer of all people, but it was somewhat nice, to be able to play on her own instincts for a while.
Seifer heard her voice, but her words passed over his head as he frowned slightly, throwing himself entirely into his music and slowly forgetting that she was even still there. And strangely enough, for all his personal confidence and arrogance, none of it carried over into the long, slow notes that emerged from his cello--and a good thing too, for it that would have set the entirely wrong mood. If anything, he did know how to play well, and playing well meant you let the music take you instead of taking the music, especially for a song like this, and music was one of those very rare things that Seifer would let overpower his ego, at least if he were playing it.
The soft background notes did register in his hearing, however, and a small part of him appreciated that, as well as registered something like a little bit of respect for the girl who was playing them. It wasn't a hard piece, but just the fact that she'd obviously heard of it said something, and the fact that she knew it well enough to play along said more. Not much more, but more. And it was helping, a little, since he didn't have to imagine the background music himself, letting him keep his attention on his own part. Maybe this playing with other people thing wasn't so bad, if he could just use them for accompaniment, heh.
Still, it didn't help enough to keep him entirely focused, and as the last note of the piece faded in the air, Seifer was back to thinking again, carried by the music into somewhere beyond the music room. What did it remind him of? Who, maybe, was the question. He'd picked this piece because he'd always been told to pick something that had meaning to him for first impressions, but he'd never been able to pinpoint exactly what the meaning was, only that it... meant something. And it made him think...
Right. Not right now. Oriya was going to be expecting him soon. Gathering his thoughts with a quick shake of the head, Seifer leaned forward, beginning to organize his sheet music and pack up his cello, getting ready to leave. But, right, the girl.
"You. Sweets. Muffin. Some kind of pie. Whatever your name is," he started with a dismissive wave of one hand, "you're not too bad. You ever want to be my piano bitch again, you let me know. I might actually be able to put you to use."
He wasn't bad at all, she found herself thinking. Earlier on she'd thought the same for someone she'd met and decided that there was indeed talent where she hadn't expected it to be. Not that she was really a judge of such things, but she had an ear for music that she knew was definitely something worth considering. And as she raised her gaze to watch the expression on Seifer's face, she saw intense concentration that was usually a sign of respect for what he was playing. It was rather endearing in a way and she couldn't help but be happy about it - as well as wonder about how amazing it was that someone with an attitude like his could play something so pretty and continue to be as he was. He was quite a contradiction unto himself, she couldn't help but think. Normally the whole 'he's trying to be something while really being something else' thinking would come into the picture, but that was rather flawed; if he wished to be that something, he would have done it. Which obviously meant that was territory they weren't allowed into.
Not that it had ever stopped her. She noted that he didn't stop playing, a good sign, because he had a clear enough flow to what he was playing and it was helping her recall the fragments of the song she knew had no name for now to play the background, picking up in pace when the song went forward, her mind drifting only to visualise a scenario in her head to go with the melody.
Something's obviously on his mind. she found herself thinking, her gaze partly on him once the notes died down, her own mind not focused on him entirely, but putting the finishing touches on the visual scene in her mind that had gone with the music. I wonder if that's what makes him so frustrated.. or obnoxious. He had a creative release, she thought to herself, then why was he so harsh regardless? She sighed inside, that wasn't her business and she didn't think she really had the time to discuss it even if it was.
Looking up as Seifer began to talk, she noted once again the way he snapped himself out of some self-induced haze and moved her hands back into her lap, massaging the digits and--
She blinked. Twice.
Did he just not insult her? Not that he had any reason to, she knew she had probably been accompanying him as well as he'd been playing, but even then, the thought that he had bothered to even say what he had seemed so hilarious that she couldn't help but grin, her expression taking on a rather assured look and she turned to him as he adressed her.
"It's Megumi, Seifer." he hadn't asked for it, but it was preferable over Muffin or-- Piano bitch?! oh god, she thought, breaking into light laughter as she shook her head, still laughing. "How unexpected. Sure, I guess.. I wouldn't mind, provided you don't call me that." that was somewhat of a welcome distraction. Then, she turned to organise her own notes and asked, "... You seemed a little distracted.. what were you thinking about?" she didn't know any way else to phrase it. ".. and on that note, what was the name of that song? I remembered the tune, but I didn't recall the name.. it was Apocalyptica's, wasn't it?" glancing up at the time then, she then turned to look back at him, still holding her sheet music. ".. hm. Guess we'll have to continue this conversation some other time."
"Meg, Piano Bitch, same difference." Seifer smirked a little when she laughed, placing the last of his music into the thin black school-issue orchestra folder and shoving it into his cello case. But he didn't turn down the acceptance, just tossing her an arrogant glance over his shoulder and giving her another dismissive flick of a wrist. "Long as you're accompanying me, I doubt anyone's going to care what your name is."
His eyebrows rose at the mention of something on his mind, however, and he paused on his way up to his feet, crouching by his cello case and shaking his head again. "What, now I'm not allowed to think?" Another smirk. "Explains a lot of the students around here." The smirk, widening into something like haughty amusement. "If you're really that curious, maybe I might tell you, sometime before I become explosively famous. But don't count on it."
A glance at the clock had him hurrying to his feet, picking up his instrument, and kicking the chair and music stand that he'd been using back into place. Five minutes left: just enough time for him to make it to Oriya's classroom and set up there. He started for the door, carefully maneuvering around the rows of chairs--then paused again, for just a few seconds, by the piano at which Megumi sat.
"Apocalyptica? I'm surprised you've heard of them. Did a friend with taste clue you in?" Again, that obnoxious, condescending smirk, accompanied by a half-amused sidelong glance. "The song," he informed her grandly, "is called 'Romance.'"
With that, he was out the door and gone.
There he went again, reading into her words when they weren't at all intended to be the way he was taking them. She was quite used to it by now and she figured it wasn't too bad. What, she had an eccentric and sarcastic grandmother back home who acted like she was the ruler of the world, Seifer was hardly going to be a problem to her, until and unless he started getting too personal where he shouldn't be and she highly doubted that he would. Which was really good enough for them both, she believed. Not that she would have minded being his friend, but he didn't seem to want her as one and she wasn't going to insist apon it. Still, she could safely say with what just happened, they'd probably found some even ground. That thought on it's own wasn't too bad.
She made a face at being called piano bitch again, but having lived in London her entire life made that more an easier thing to be called among others so she didn't comment. So she commented, "Whatever.." quite calmly, though a smirk appeared on her face at his comment and shrugged. "You'll tell me if you want. If you don't, it's all good." though she did blink at his comment about her knowing who had performed the song and peered at him even as he began to move away, rolling her eyes and commented, "I happen to listen to modern music myself, as surprising as that may sound to you, apparently." though as he gave her the name of the song, she felt slightly sheepish, she hadn't known the name and that did make her attention a little pointless but she wasn't going to say anything. Though her gaze did soften at the song title, looking back down at her notes as he left and pulling out the one she wanted to play.
".. so that's it." she murmured to no one in particular. Whether in reference to the song title or to what she had just suspected about Seifer, it was unclear, but she had the suspicion and the assurance that regardless, she'd be finding out what Seifer's distraction was about soon enough, and if she didn't, she could always do what he did.. make assumptions about what he meant what he spoke. And that on it's own could prove fruitful to keep an energetic conversation going without the insults, or so she hoped.
As she turned her gaze back to her musical notes, she smiled, setting her fingers down on the keys. After three beats, she began to play.