Love Story Meets Viva la Vida
WHO: Dewi and Lucy-Marie
WHEN: Wednesday July 28th, Lunch Time
WHERE: Liberty University Auditorium
WHAT: Well, it was supposed to be just about singing duets, until a certain American told her about Yao.
The last chord struck on a crescendo and the choir director held it with an open palm, until a circular motion of both hands and the tightening of his fists sealed the choir's lips. The six-layered chord resonated against the walls of Liberty auditorium as Professor Ainsworth pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Wonderful rehearsal everyone. Now I want the altos to take a good look at page seven so you can master that jump from Fa to Te, and the tenors need to look at page five, measures seventy-four to seventy-eight. You are dismissed."
The hall no longer echoed with the booming power of his voice or the choral beauty of his students, but now with the monotone voices of idle conversation. He watched as the Sopranos and Altos gathered their purses and sheet music; the bases and tenors only retrieving the latter, and all the students paired off and flowed uniformly out of the auditorium doors. The last thing he heard was the sound of the door meeting its frame.
At least until he heard it open again. He didn't need to look to see who it was, but he looked nonetheless to meet that pretty figure of hers. "Good afternoon, Lucy!"
WHEN: Wednesday July 28th, Lunch Time
WHERE: Liberty University Auditorium
WHAT: Well, it was supposed to be just about singing duets, until a certain American told her about Yao.
The last chord struck on a crescendo and the choir director held it with an open palm, until a circular motion of both hands and the tightening of his fists sealed the choir's lips. The six-layered chord resonated against the walls of Liberty auditorium as Professor Ainsworth pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"Wonderful rehearsal everyone. Now I want the altos to take a good look at page seven so you can master that jump from Fa to Te, and the tenors need to look at page five, measures seventy-four to seventy-eight. You are dismissed."
The hall no longer echoed with the booming power of his voice or the choral beauty of his students, but now with the monotone voices of idle conversation. He watched as the Sopranos and Altos gathered their purses and sheet music; the bases and tenors only retrieving the latter, and all the students paired off and flowed uniformly out of the auditorium doors. The last thing he heard was the sound of the door meeting its frame.
At least until he heard it open again. He didn't need to look to see who it was, but he looked nonetheless to meet that pretty figure of hers. "Good afternoon, Lucy!"