Pulling his hands quickly from the piano keys, Rush turned around and raised his eyebrows -- not in a combative way, of course, as he didn't really know Jesse (but he knew of him). He loathed being heard practicing more than could be identified outside of the practice room, because when he practiced alone, he begun with songs he knew well and progressed to things he had yet to master, and as somebody who took his instrument very seriously, he didn't appreciate others hearing any half-finished skills.
"Is it?" Rush asked politely, but in a way that suggested he didn't quite believe it. "I practiced here last Tuesday and I didn't see you."
Still, he was prepared to get up and leave, being somewhat passive. Rush did think that there was the chance that he was wrong, and that Jesse had just been sick that day or something.
"Although," he added as an afterthought, "you probably do need it more than I do."
Jesse bristled visibly at the jab. His eyes narrowed slightly and his grip on his backpack tightened as he eyed the stranger with considerable dislike.
"I very much doubt that," he shot back. "I've been playing the piano for eight years now, not that it's any of your business."
After a mere moment of hesitation, Jesse withdrew a few sheets of music from his backpack and began to arrange them haphazardly on the piano, rudely ignoring the other boy's presence. Finally he drew back and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
Well, are you going to leave?
Apparently not. Jesse took a seat at the bench anyway. He wasn't about to let some arrogant misfit with too-bright hair prevent him from practicing.
"I've been playing eight too," Rush replied snappily. He would, of course, have been more polite had Jesse admitted to his lie and gone off to use one of the (far inferior) keyboards in another practice room, but now the other boy was settling in on his piano bench for a reason he simply could not understand. Not that he had problems sharing when it was called for, but he had gotten here first, and there was no need for his parade to be rained upon by somebody so pushy and rude.
Rush instinctively moved aside when Jesse sat down, annoyed at himself for being so accommodating. Jesse's sheet music was covering his own and, while he often played by ear rather than reading it anyway, he was quite annoyed at the intrusion.
"Too bad," came Jesse's gruff reply. His fingers were already arranged on the keys in starting position, wrists lifted elegantly. He sighed when he realized the other boy wasn't just going to leave.
"Fine. Let's settle this, okay?" He shifted on the bench so that he was facing Rush.
"We've both been playing for eight years, so we should be fairly evenly matched. I'll play something, then you will, and whoever is better gets the piano today. Then we can work out a schedule for the future."
Jesse's conciliatory attitude came mostly from the fact that he was annoyed and wanted the source of his annoyance to go away. However, he always appreciated a challenge, and Jesse was, as always, extremely confident in his own abilities. He also had a secret weapon: his voice. This kid could probably play, but could he play and sing, and at the same time?
Rush was somewhat suspicious of Jesse's motives, but nodded and vacated the bench; if he was going to be in this... competition of sorts, he would much rather Jesse go first so that he knew what he was up against. He crossed his arms and rounded the piano so that he faced Jesse.
"I'm not sure how we're going to definitively decide who's playing is better, but I'm not nervous that you'll think you're better once you hear, anyway."
And if he did lose (which he wouldn't), he would go play on one of the keyboards in the other practice rooms, although they were far inferior to the piano in the room they used for Glee practices.
Jesse was gratified that he had won this battle, at least, and they were finally getting somewhere (hopefully closer to what Jesse wanted). He shot the boy a cocky, superior look over his shoulder as his fingers found the keys of the opening chord with practiced ease. He launched into a song he had been working on for the past week with no vocal warm-up and no sheet music, only his ever-present determination and confidence. He threw himself into the performance, fingers trailing up and down the keyboard with impressive precision as he sang the accompanying words.
"It's not a silly little moment, It's not the storm before the calm. This is the deep and dying breath of This love that we've been working on.
Can't seem to hold you like I want to So I can feel you in my arms. Nobody's gonna come and save you, We pulled too many false alarms.
We're going down, And you can see it too. We're going down, And you know that we're doomed. My dear, We're slow dancing in a burning room."
OOC: Jesse is singing this version of the John Mayer song
( ... )
Rush twitched once or twice during Jesse's performance; not because he found fault with the piano playing or the singing, but because his voice was, admittedly, fantastic, and it managed to give him chills. Much to his annoyance, mind. He brushed it off, shoved his hands into his pockets and waiting for Jesse to finish. It was technically flawless, and Jesse didn't so much as falter once, but Rush was still confident. After all, if he wasn't confident in his piano playing, there wasn't all that much for him to be confident about.
"That's pretty good," he said grudgingly, ushering Jesse off of the piano bench so that he could sit. Rush had decided quickly, upon Jesse's suggestion that they do this, that he was going to do a song that he had long ago perfected without the use of sheet music -- "Over My Head" by the Fray. "I won't be singing, but that wasn't really part of the argument."
Rush crossed his right hand over his left hand and proceeded to play the entire song that way for effect.
At first disbelieving, Jesse had to crack a smile when Rush performed the entire song-a creative arrangement with appropriate flourishes-without ever uncrossing his arms. In spite of himself, Jesse was extremely impressed (and more than a little jealous).
"Yeah, well, you'll never have my voice," he said, half-jokingly. His gaze was still fixed on the boy's slender, pale hands, so graceful when he was playing.
Jesse bit his lip, taking a moment to come to grips with the fact that he had just been beaten at something. He wasn't too stung; Rush was certainly a worthy opponent.
"A deal's a deal," Jesse announced, and began to collect his sheet music from the piano with determined indifference.
Hiding a triumphant smile with the back of his hand, Rush turned his head to watch passively as Jesse collected his things just a few inches away. That was an unnecessary fifteen or so minutes he had wasted, unable to practice, but for some reason he wasn't particularly annoyed; for one thing, beating somebody was always amusing, and for another, Jesse's annoyance was... satisfying.
Rush thought for a moment, and then said, "Not a lot of people can play entire songs with their arms crossed." He didn't mean it to sound like he was patting himself on the back quite as much as he did, so he amended his statement. "I mean-- would you be interested in learning some tricks to be able to do it?"
Jesse blinked in surprise and paused in the middle of collecting his music, unaware that he was still very much in the other boy's personal space. Jesse thought for a moment, carefully considering the offer. He had almost rejected it automatically out of pride, but quickly upbraided himself. There was never an excuse for being mediocre.
"All right," Jesse agreed with only slight hesitation in his voice.
It wouldn't hurt him to pick up a few tricks, and he might even have an opportunity to redeem himself for his loss, in his eyes and Rush's.
Jesse stuffed the music into his backpack and came around to the other side of the bench, taking a seat next to Rush.
"Show me," he commanded, but it somehow sounded like a request.
Rush nodded, moving a little so he didn't crowd Jesse as he sat down. He shuffled around his own sheet music until he came to the only piece he had currently that he was skilled enough at to play with his hands crossed. It was a relatively simple French baroque piece that he had first come across a few months ago. He slid it further towards Jesse, who was likely unfamiliar with it, and crossed his hands in preparation to demonstrate
( ... )
To Jesse's absolute surprise and bewilderment, someone else was effectively instructing him and yet he wasn't filled with either derision or resentment. Maybe it was that Rush's manner was altogether unassuming, almost meek: he had tolerated Jesse's bad humor and forceful personality rather well. The blond was also clearly intelligent and talented, two traits Jesse prized a great deal. Finally, in Jesse's mind they were no longer in public; he could admit, for once, that he didn't have all of the answers, and that someone else might, might have some small advantage over him.
Within another ten minutes Jesse was playing the opening of the same baroque song, at a more sedate pace but with his arms crossed at the wrists.
"I think I've got it!" he said with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, turning to Rush excitedly. He sobered instantly, schooling his features into his usual mask of arrogance.
"Maybe you're just... good," Rush returned with a shrug of one of his shoulders. "Or you're being cocky because you learned the beginning of a relatively easy song..." He smiled -- a bit less nervously than he would have had they not been together for about half an hour already. "But I'm sure you could do the whole song in no time, if you're that confident."
Rush straightened his music carefully, turned away from Jesse for a few moments. He then turned back, and said lightly, "Maybe we should meet in a few days and see if you've mastered it...?"
Jesse's eyes narrowed again at Rush's quip, but he was smiling this time. Maybe he needed someone to remind him he wasn't God's gift from time to time.
"I don't need a few days, but sure," he answered with consciously exaggerated confidence. Jesse's expansive ego, it seemed, was becoming something of a running joke between them.
"Who knows, maybe I'll have something to teach you by Thursday."
"Maybe," Rush replied, putting a playful inflection on his words that implied that he doubted it. "Anyway, I'll see you then."
He turned back towards his music and shuffled the baroque song to the back so that he could continue learning the song that he had been practicing before Jesse had so rudely intruded on his practice time. Rush placed his hands on the keys and began playing, now fully immersed in his own world again.
"Is it?" Rush asked politely, but in a way that suggested he didn't quite believe it. "I practiced here last Tuesday and I didn't see you."
Still, he was prepared to get up and leave, being somewhat passive. Rush did think that there was the chance that he was wrong, and that Jesse had just been sick that day or something.
"Although," he added as an afterthought, "you probably do need it more than I do."
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"I very much doubt that," he shot back. "I've been playing the piano for eight years now, not that it's any of your business."
After a mere moment of hesitation, Jesse withdrew a few sheets of music from his backpack and began to arrange them haphazardly on the piano, rudely ignoring the other boy's presence. Finally he drew back and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
Well, are you going to leave?
Apparently not. Jesse took a seat at the bench anyway. He wasn't about to let some arrogant misfit with too-bright hair prevent him from practicing.
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Rush instinctively moved aside when Jesse sat down, annoyed at himself for being so accommodating. Jesse's sheet music was covering his own and, while he often played by ear rather than reading it anyway, he was quite annoyed at the intrusion.
"I don't remember asking you to join me."
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"Fine. Let's settle this, okay?" He shifted on the bench so that he was facing Rush.
"We've both been playing for eight years, so we should be fairly evenly matched. I'll play something, then you will, and whoever is better gets the piano today. Then we can work out a schedule for the future."
Jesse's conciliatory attitude came mostly from the fact that he was annoyed and wanted the source of his annoyance to go away. However, he always appreciated a challenge, and Jesse was, as always, extremely confident in his own abilities. He also had a secret weapon: his voice. This kid could probably play, but could he play and sing, and at the same time?
Reply
"I'm not sure how we're going to definitively decide who's playing is better, but I'm not nervous that you'll think you're better once you hear, anyway."
And if he did lose (which he wouldn't), he would go play on one of the keyboards in the other practice rooms, although they were far inferior to the piano in the room they used for Glee practices.
Reply
"It's not a silly little moment,
It's not the storm before the calm.
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love that we've been working on.
Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms.
Nobody's gonna come and save you,
We pulled too many false alarms.
We're going down,
And you can see it too.
We're going down,
And you know that we're doomed.
My dear,
We're slow dancing in a burning room."
OOC: Jesse is singing this version of the John Mayer song ( ... )
Reply
"That's pretty good," he said grudgingly, ushering Jesse off of the piano bench so that he could sit. Rush had decided quickly, upon Jesse's suggestion that they do this, that he was going to do a song that he had long ago perfected without the use of sheet music -- "Over My Head" by the Fray. "I won't be singing, but that wasn't really part of the argument."
Rush crossed his right hand over his left hand and proceeded to play the entire song that way for effect.
Reply
"Yeah, well, you'll never have my voice," he said, half-jokingly. His gaze was still fixed on the boy's slender, pale hands, so graceful when he was playing.
Jesse bit his lip, taking a moment to come to grips with the fact that he had just been beaten at something. He wasn't too stung; Rush was certainly a worthy opponent.
"A deal's a deal," Jesse announced, and began to collect his sheet music from the piano with determined indifference.
Reply
Rush thought for a moment, and then said, "Not a lot of people can play entire songs with their arms crossed." He didn't mean it to sound like he was patting himself on the back quite as much as he did, so he amended his statement. "I mean-- would you be interested in learning some tricks to be able to do it?"
Reply
"All right," Jesse agreed with only slight hesitation in his voice.
It wouldn't hurt him to pick up a few tricks, and he might even have an opportunity to redeem himself for his loss, in his eyes and Rush's.
Jesse stuffed the music into his backpack and came around to the other side of the bench, taking a seat next to Rush.
"Show me," he commanded, but it somehow sounded like a request.
Reply
Reply
Within another ten minutes Jesse was playing the opening of the same baroque song, at a more sedate pace but with his arms crossed at the wrists.
"I think I've got it!" he said with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, turning to Rush excitedly. He sobered instantly, schooling his features into his usual mask of arrogance.
"It wasn't nearly as hard as you made it sound."
Reply
Rush straightened his music carefully, turned away from Jesse for a few moments. He then turned back, and said lightly, "Maybe we should meet in a few days and see if you've mastered it...?"
Reply
"I don't need a few days, but sure," he answered with consciously exaggerated confidence. Jesse's expansive ego, it seemed, was becoming something of a running joke between them.
"Who knows, maybe I'll have something to teach you by Thursday."
Reply
He turned back towards his music and shuffled the baroque song to the back so that he could continue learning the song that he had been practicing before Jesse had so rudely intruded on his practice time. Rush placed his hands on the keys and began playing, now fully immersed in his own world again.
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