Practice...brings company? [Naomi]

The hotel room had been noisy, there wasn't any way he could practice there. He needed a quieter place, one with less people around then having a room right above the main dinning hall. It was early enough that George was well rested at this point, but most were still at their homes or bed by now. Children and adults had not come to the park to play or talk among themselves. He more or less had the place to himself, standing in the black and white suit that he was wearing to get used to, precious wooden violin tucked under his chin and black case at his feet. He had brought his own stand with him, a portable metal one that he packed for situations just like these. A section Handel's Water Music was before him today, a piece he had been asked to preform in this town a few days from now.

He could never just...get it right. He had the piece down to near memorization now, but there would always be a point where he would play a note just a second too late, or have his fingers move only a millimeter out of place. A little mistake that would make it unbearable for him to hear himself playing.

His eyebrows furrowed together as he ran through the ending of the piece one more time, the last four measures in particular. It took him a second to find why he wasn't satisfied: his bow had ended in the wrong direction again. Tucking his instrument under his arm for a few seconds, he held his pencil in his fingertips again, marking a small "v" above the note where he had made his mistake to remind himself that he should be in the upper part of the bow at this point.

He was rather focused, oblivious to the world around him now, unhappy and frustrated frown on his face.

Naomi was strolling through San Malarus… Okay, less strolling and more like running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off looking for the stupid animal that had disappeared with her sweet roll. She hadn’t even realized that she had dropped it a while back. She only came outside because she had been craving one. Now the sun was going to kill her and she had no sugar to show for it. If only she could find whatever animal she thought had taken her food. She had tracked the beast down to the park. She would get back that (no so very) missing sweet roll if it killed the little bugger.
 
She was searching for the thing in a tree when she heard a lovely sound. She didn’t know the song, but that instrument sounded familiar. She searched around for the source until she saw a boy playing a lovely violin. She got closer to him from behind, listening to the whole of the piece. It was so beautiful. As he finished, she would start clapping for him. If he didn’t notice her, she would go around to his front and look at the music in front of him. It looked like gibberish. She couldn’t read music to save her life. She pulled out her tablet and flipped to a picture of a smiley face. She liked that way he played and they way his instrument sounded. It was a wonderful sound, indeed. She could see one other thing on his face though. He wasn’t happy with something. She couldn’t tell what since he played so wonderfully. She flipped to a picture of a worried person and shrugged her shoulders like she was asking a question. The message was equivalent to “what’s wrong” or “are you upset”.  She didn’t like seeing people unhappy. It actually made her heart hurt a little to see something like that.
 

Spoiler:

George's shoulders jolted slightly as he heard the stranger start clapping for him. Not that he wasn't used to the sound, but he hadn't been expecting anyone to show up in the park at this hour, and it took him by surprise. He gave a small nod and a nervous smile before making the mark he desired on his piece of music, as if to say 'I'll be with you in a moment.' If she still approached behind him as he looked over the piece in front of him one last time, he wouldn't try and stop her. He didn't mind company, awkward as he tended to be most of the time.

Hearing the ruffling of paper, he turned his head to see the face the girl had drawn. Eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment. Was she mute? Or did she just not like to speak? It took him a few seconds more to understand what she was trying to ask.

"Oh, it's nothing." he replied, shaking his head a little "My bow just ended up in the wrong place on to wrong note..wait, here, I'll show you." He brought up his violin to his chin again "I should have ended here" he moved his bow, playing the singular note "When I should have been here. See?" He hoped his explanation helped.

She knew very little about the violin. Well how to play it classically anyway. She could swivel the bow back and forth wildly at best. She didn’t know there was a specific way you had to push and pull it. This boy was concerned about that however. It seemed to be causing him some distress. Sure, she didn’t understand it, but it mattered to him. She bent over and picked up a fistful of dirt. She molded the mass into a ball the was barely holding itself together and showed it to him. There was nothing out of the ordinary about it, but she would show it to him. She hoped this would be enough to help him with remembering. Even if it wasn’t, she would get to have a bit of fun. A smile worked its way across her face, “This is mud.” Obviously, “Mud makes really big stains that are hard to get out of fabric.” She held it up to the spot where the boy’s bow would hit if he played the note wrong, “I can’t imagine what it would do to horse hair all sticky with rosin.” He would find out soon enough if he wasn’t careful, “Play the song again.” She would be careful to make sure to only hold the mud there on that note. If she played it wrong, he was going to need a new bow.

Spoiler:

"Hm." The boy looked at the glob of mud the other held in her hands, reflecting on the suggestion that she had given him. Of course, he had plenty of bow like this one back home, so losing this one wouldn't be devastating...but still costly. He wasn't sure his parents would be too happy about it.

But perhaps a bit of pressure like this was what he needed in order to finally play this correctly. If he could do it here, he could preform it in front of the stress of three hundred or so eyes upon him. He was close to technical perfection. He had to have confidence in his abilities. "Right then. Let's start." His chin hooked under his wooden instrument.

He played from the beginning, wanting to make sure he would remember this even after having played all the way through. Thankfully, this piece wasn't as long as some of the other ones he would have to play for this particular performance. Otherwise he wouldn't have made the girl stand there for very long.

Finally. The bow ended where it should, tiny particles of rosin floating in the air as he lifted it off the strings. He smiled. "Perfect." putting the violin back under his arm, he addressed the stranger once again "T-thank you...may I k-know your n-name..?"

Naomi would stand there with a smirk on her face as she watched the boy play his piece. She would hold the mud in place, waiting to see if he would get the note correct or if he would flub it up. As his song ended, she would drop the mud and clap. As she felt the left over grime cover her other hand, she would put them behind her, “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to threaten such a pretty instrument, but I thought it might help. Well, it seems like it did, so no harm no foul.” That was how this entire thing worked, right? Well, maybe. What she did could actually have been a very bad thing. Well, that wasn’t something that mattered. It was all fine. She noticed that he seemed to be chocking on his words. What was that called again… Oh, a stutter. That’s what it was called. She had never heard a real one before. She had tuned out for a moment before she finally realized he had asked her a question, “I’m Naomi. Who are you and umm… Why are you playing a violin in the middle of the park? Are you one of those street performers? Am I supposed to put money in the case?” She was now worried that she had done something wrong.

He gave a small laugh, though perhaps a slightly nervous one as he truly reflected onto what might have happened if he indeed managed to miss his bow direction again, scratching the back of his head. "I-indeed." he wouldn't have done it if he had thought there was a truly high possibility of him slipping up again even with the extra pressure, though.

Naomi? That was a rather pretty name, if he had ever heard one. Much more unique than his own at the very least. He gave a slight shake of his head at her question. "Um, no. S-sorry, I should have p-probably explained b-better. I'm just p-practicing out here for a c-concert I'm going to h-have in a few d-days around here a-actually. I honestly w-wasn't expecting anyone to be h-here t-this early. "

He couldn't ever see himself as a street performer, it would require him to work on a much less regulated schedule. "Oh, my n-name's George by the w-way. B-before I forget.."

“A concert?” Her eyes widened in wonder at that statement, “So you’re one of those professionals who plays music like this for a living?” Her room was always abuzz with some kind of music. Recently, she had gotten into those people who played pop music on classic sounding instruments. Mostly, it just made her feel like she had culture, even though she knew better, “So, do you play by yourself or are you one of those people that’s part of a larger group? Wait, does this mean I just got a free private show from someone famous? I must be the luckiest girl ever!” She was about to squeal with excitement. As for why she was here… She didn’t feel like explaining that. It would make her look foolish than she probably already did. Even she had a small amount of pride left inside of her. Okay, maybe you needed a microscope to see it, but it was there, snuggled right up against her kidney, “So, do you enjoy having an audience full of people clapping for you when it’s all over? Personally, the thought makes me feel sick.” That’s why she had never thought about going into a profession that required her to be the center of attention. Well, except for that one time when she was seven and wanted to be signer/actor. That had been just a phase though.