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Glass of 2014

By

Al Song

"You know what, Quinton? This isn't going to work," the red kangaroo said and stopped playing his cello. He put his bow in its quiver and sighed. He took off his bronze, thick horn rimmed glasses and cleaned them with one end of his pastel striped scarf. He looked up at a russet colored folf who abruptly stopped playing his violin and furrowed his brow at the kangaroo.

"What do you mean by 'It isn't going to work?'" the folf asked exasperatedly. "We've been doing this for almost four years." He wore black, rectangular glasses, cream suspenders, a white, button-up shirt, and dark khakis.

"I know that practicing is important but we can't always play stuff that's already been written. The improv competition is about improvisation. We need to feel the music and be able to flow with it. This is boring," the kangaroo retorted with a scowl.

"Chester," the tall, chubby folf sighed. He ran a finger over a sleek, white, touch-screen music stand and doubled tapped it to zoom into a specific phrase. He studied the measures and gently nodded with his paw under his squared muzzle. "You know that we need to work on technical stuff, and to go over more jazz and hip hop music and try to emulate it, and then look at some more romance and baroque pieces."

Chester just rolled his eyes and then stared off into one of the smooth, white walls. The walls in the music building were insulated with a special type of foam that prevented sound from escaping into the hallways.

"The formula is easy," the folf continued, "and it's going to be the same thing every year. We just need to insert some sort of classical music style along with whichever music genres they give to us. It's better to be safe than sorry and it's better to be prepared than lose." He continued to inspect the notes, rests and symbols as he fingered each note precisely on the violin.

The kangaroo turned his attention to the long thin windows on the top edges of the room that were controlled by a touch screen next to the door, which also controlled the locks and lights. The afternoon overcast was dark and the trees slowly shuddered in the wind. He turned back to the folf with an insolent yawn and said, "I know that but we need to do more improv stuff too. They could play any genre of music, and like you said, we just need to go along with it. That's the important thing. We're working way too hard for this and we're not even practicing improv as much."

"We're always critiqued harshly on our technical skills," he said glaring up from the stand.

"You mean my technical skills," Chester said defensively and stared back at the folf.

"I didn't say that," he pleaded setting his violin on a chair and sheathing his bow in his quiver. He tried to hug the kangaroo on his side but he was keeping his bowing arm on his lap and his other paw on his cello's fingerboard.

"It's true. We lose points because of me," he said sternly as he pushed the folf away.

Quinton gave up and walked back to his music stand. "We already understand how to improvise songs and it's important that we sound good and we don't make mistakes. I have my own critiques on a few bowing things too."

"Ugh, we've been winning for three years in a row. This is our senior year of college and we definitely are going to win again plus we're freaking music performance majors we deserve to win."

"I know we're going to win but we need to actually practice real works that have been composed. There are mechanical things we need to go through. Like here," Quinton said and pointed at the Intelleboard at the front of the classroom and sent the image to the screen. He made a few rough circles around a couple measures with his finger in bright, red digital ink.

"What about that part?" Chester asked becoming very tired.

"You're not supposed to staccato the notes in these measures," the folf said firmly.

"But it adds flavor," the kangaroo argued as he replayed it the same way.

"But you're not supposed to do that," Quinton said with frustration in his voice.

"But it's improv," Chester said with insistence.

"But it's not correct," the folf said mockingly.

"Look, I love you, but you are not going to tell me what to do all the time."

"I love you too, but you're the one that tell me what to do all the time," Quinton insisted. "Plus you could stand to practice some more."

"You still think that I'm not as good as you just because you've been playing music a year longer than me," Chester said as he voice got louder.

"No, I don't think that at all. You're still good," he said trying to reason with the Kangaroo.

"Oh, I'm just 'good?'" he asked defensively.

"I mean you're perfect," Quinton said nervously waving the free paw in front of him.

"Well, you just corrected my ability to play so I guess I'm not perfect."

"No, you're an amazing musician. Why do you have to be this way?" the folf asked and sighed.

"What way am I being?"

"Why do you have to have this attitude when you're being defensive?"

"What are you talking about? I don't have an attitude and I'm not being defensive!" Chester shouted.

"Stop yelling at me!" Quinton howled back.

"I'm not yelling!"

There was a knock from the sleek white door, which then slid open to reveal a skunk in a silver and orange University of the Pacific Northwest sweater and plain blue jeans. The quarreling couple glared at him.

"Hey guys, I'm part of the World Music Club and we kind of reserved this classroom to meet in at five," the skunk said nervously.

"We're leaving anyways. Just let us pack up," Chester said as he zipped up his mint colored hoodie over his t-shirt of a faded, cartoonish rocket.

"Okay," he said with an anxious smile.

They put their instruments away and logged out of their accounts on the music stands. The kangaroo and folf walked out of the classroom into the white hallway with sleek white walls. Some portions of the walls were actually monitors that showed off paintings of famous musicians and composers. Sometimes they would be pictures of various students playing instruments or entire orchestra classes or symphonic bands.

They took out thin transparent blocks out of their pockets, which looked like prisms of glass. They looked through their emails, various social media sites and text messages. On the bottom of each block it said 'Mesa-Phone by Green Mesa.'

Chester swiped his Mesa-Phone in front of his glasses and said, "Mesa-Glass access Friendbook." His brown eyes darted left and right and up and down. He then looked up at the top of his glasses and said, "Confirm."

Quinton copied what Chester had done and asked, "Why do you always have to post about our fights? And why do you always write 'tiff?'"

"IDK, so it doesn't look like we're beating each other up," he replied sarcastically.

"Hey, that's a serious issue that people actually have," he said and gave the kangaroo a stern look.

"I'm sorry, dad," he said with a smirk.

"Whatever, I'm going to my locker," the folf sighed and walked a couple yards away.

A cacophony of sound came from one end of the hallway as students left from a late class with some of them rudely playing their instruments. The other end had a few graduate students laughing about something private as they tapped away at their Mesa devices.

The kangaroo walked to his own locker, which were all clear and made up of the same durable glass like everything else was. It was to try to make sure people didn't have contraband even though could easily store these things in their instrument cases. "Chester," he said as he put his paw on the touchscreen and then he input his security code. The locker unlocked with a small popping noise and he put his cello away.

Quinton walked back and they heard a flute and guitar starting to play in a distant practice room but the door slid closed and the sound was capsuled in the room. He asked, "Where do you want to go to get dinner?"

"I don't know," the kangaroo said apathetically.

"No, you have to pick," the folf sighed.

"Why?" he asked and turned to a bulletin board which was just another screen that showed a board made up of cork and had digital flyers on it. He moved some of the flyers around and took a picture of a piece of paper advertising a new eBook with his glasses as he tapped the left side of them.

"Because you always tell me you don't want to go to wherever I suggest," Quinton said as he sat down on a clear bench. In front of him was a long rectangular screen that contained piano keys. He started to play the melody of the last movement of New World Symphony.

"No, you go ahead and pick a place," the kangaroo said as he searched through his glasses for the book.

"What about Guaca-Mole?" he suggested as a badger quickly walked by with a clear tablet jotting notes down on it. She stepped on Chester's thick tail and the low pressure of her speed made the fur on Quinton's fluffy tail gently sway as she stepped into an office room.

"Hey!" the kangaroo yelled but the door she went in silently slid closed.

"What happened?" the folf asked.

He sighed and said, "She stepped on my tail."

Quinton got up and hugged the kangaroo. "Aw, poor thing," he said and then kissed his boyfriend on his fuzzy cheek and went back to the piano.

"No, that place is gross and I don't want Tex-Mex and I don't want to have to go up to someone and tell them every single thing that I want on a burrito," he moaned.

The folf slammed his left paw down and made a c minor chord. He then turned and asked, "Do you see what I'm saying now?"

"Fine," Chester sighed. "Let's just go to some café or something."

"Well, which café do you want to go to?"

"I don't know and I don't care."

Quinton stared blankly at his boyfriend and said, "Yes you do. Just pick one."

"Fine, uh...Bub-Elation." He said it as if he was asked a question by a professor and had to guess the answer.

The folf and kangaroo exited the white, grand piano shaped building. They walked down a street adjacent to the main campus. Every eighth slab was a screen with an advertisement and some were just blank but when walked upon they would leave a digital shoeprint that looked like someone just walked on mud and some made ripples of water when stepped on.

Some of the cars on the road were _IntelliCars_which were cars that could drive themselves and had little green trapezoids with the letters G and M above them in the corner of the rear window.

The facades of the buildings and skyscrapers were either stark white, transparent or glistening chrome and they all were as glossy and smooth as ice. As the sun set upon Seattle the buildings would have advertisements appear on them. One building had a vixen that was hundreds of feet tall showing off sweaters and other upcoming fashionable clothing for winter. She was jumping up and down and spinning as if the marketing team actually bought her a new wardrobe. There was also another building with a young goat drinking an infinite can of cola since it was a GIF and he was showing off the brand perfectly between his fingers and thumb. There was such a drastic change from day to night as the white, clear and silver became canvases for colorful advertisements.

They held paws as they walked past businesses that were could only be told by the logos that appeared on the screens above the doors. When a retail store wasn't in a clear building then there would be a screen displaying the trendiest clothes and customers could get a sense of the clothing styles and prices without even needing to go into the store. Chester got distracted in front of an American Urban Attire store and became infatuated by a pair of retro, blue tennis shoes. Quinton had to 'gently' pull him away from the screen.

The two walked another block and searched for the correct signage. Above a pair of white doors were the words "Bub-Elation" in big, pink and yellow bubble letters that burst and floated back up to their original position.

They stepped into a digital rainbow. Groups of college students were scattered around and the servers all wore cool outfits like robot costumes, gothic Lolita outfits, and business suits with rainbow polka dots. Techno music pulsed through the trendy tea house. There were anime characters across the white walls that did various things loops like juggle or swordfight and a few different screens showing live feeds from Seoul, Hong Kong, Beijing, Tokyo, and Bangkok.

They sat down at an empty table and tapped the surface. It turned from what looked like a shiny marble surface to a menu with cute little fruits and desserts chasing one another and doing various activities. They each touched what they wanted and the screen showed the items and they paid by using their phones on the table. As they waited they put on a game of air hockey.

A while later their server walked up with a yellow drink, a green one and a basket of fries. She was an otter in a pink and orange dirndl. "The veggie burgers will be up in a couple more minutes," she said with a smile.

They both took their color changing straws and perforated the animated cartoon characters on the plastic cover and smiled menacingly at one another.

"Why do they call it bubble tea when some of these drinks don't even have tea in them? Isn't tea supposed to be leaves that are brewed?" Chester asked.

"Why are you complaining?" the folf teased. "You wanted to come here and I thought you liked mango soy milk tea with the vegan lychee jelly."

"It's great but it feels like false advertising," he said and frowned.

"You have a mango flavored drink with a dancing cheesecake on the lid and there's a strawberry riding a bicycle around the side of the cup. Isn't that false advertising?" Quinton asked raising a brow. "Plus the cheesecake is happy even though it has a straw impaling the middle of it."

"Yeah, I guess," he giggled. "Your avocado flavored bubble tea tastes nothing like tea either."

"I know, but it's good," he said as he took another sip. "What about those weight loss pills with the nanorobots that get rid of fat? I was in the hospital for a week and you were in Hawaii having fun as I suffered."

"It's not like I planned it at that time intentionally and I told you a million times before that you look fine," he said with a gentle smile. Quinton stroked his paw gently. "I also said that you shouldn't have taken those pills."

"If Green Mesa had recalled them earlier then I wouldn't have. At least my tuition is partially paid for," he said with a big gulp of the avocado drink.

"Green Mesa has pretty much taken over the world."

"Solarbucks_runs the world of coffee and was just a little café here in Seattle, _Bank der Welt trumps all the other banks and was just a small loan office in Frankfurt, and Green Mesa owns everything that deals with technology. These large companies have pretty much taken over the world. I mean a few years ago major cities didn't look like this. All the buildings look like big Mesa devices. The top of the Space Needle is now a big screen that runs advertisements."

"All_the buildings have ads now," he said as he noticed at the _Green Mesa logo on the side of the table.

"That's true. This place is independently owned and operated but they had to buy some products from Solarbucks to make most of these drinks and they probably had to take a loan out from Bank der Welt to get started and everything that runs on electricity in here was bought from Green Mesa. We can't go a day without seeing a sun with antlers, a golden dollar sign or a green trapezoid with a 'G' and an 'M' on top of it."

"I guess competition's a little hard when you're going against the big guys."

"Speaking of competition," Quinton said as he removed his paw from Chester's. "I was just thinking as we walked here that maybe we should apply for the musical improv competition as soloists."

The kangaroo widened his eyes at the suggestion. "But, we've always done improv together as a duet and we've always won."

"But this always makes us fight. I mean I love holding the trophy with you and kissing you and making all the girls squeal just because two guys are kissing on a stage but..."

"But what?"

"But I want to do things my way this time."

"You always get things your way," the kangaroo said with some annoyance in his voice.

"No, I don't. You always get things your way," the folf retorted sternly.

"Every year we have this argument. You want everything to be perfect," he said as he made a serious face to mock his boyfriend.

"And you just want to play all willy-nilly," he said as he stuck his tongue out, crossed his eyes and played the air cello.

"Fine, you're on." He put a paw out.

Quinton shook it and said, "May the best musician win."

***

They practiced alone for the next month and they made the competition a taboo topic whenever they talked, but they usually avoided one another. They fought less with one another but they missed playing music with one another.

Quinton lived with his family near the university and usually practiced at home, away from his boyfriend.

"Hey, we haven't seen Chester in a while. Is he alright?" a large wolf asked as he walked into the opened room. The walls were decorated in ePosters that mostly consisted of music theory and a couple bands.

"Yeah, he's fine," Quinton replied as he took the violin off his shoulder to look at his dad. "I see him every day in music history and we still go out... sometimes."

"I haven't heard you two playing music together in a long time," said a vixen from the door frame. "You should invite him over for dinner."

"Sure mom. Maybe, it's just that we've been a little busy though. You know, the competition and all that."

"Aren't you going to compete together?" his father asked. "You need to need to practice as a couple, right?"

"No, we kind of decided to compete alone," he said as he scratched the back of his neck and getting some rosin from the bow in his fur.

"What?" his mother asked with shock in her voice. "But you two have always competed together as a duet. Are you two fighting again?"

"No," he said and tried to wave his paws to deny it even though he was holding the bow and violin. "We just felt like we had different ways of going about this. Can we just not talk about this anymore?" his plea sounding petty.

"But Quinton, we care about you," his father said reassuringly.

"I know but I really don't want to talk about it."

"Alright, just know that we're here for you," his mother said with a concerned look.

Quinton put his viola on the stand and hung the bow on the hook behind it.

He walked to the bathroom and the green circular light on the right side of the white door was on. He drew a circle around the light and the door slid open. He undressed and stepped into the shower. The mirror in front of the shower had news reports and a few ads about clothes and music in the corner. He waved his paws on both sides of the mirror and a steady stream of water fell from the ceiling. He cupped his paws underneath and splashed warm water on his face and then stepped into the stream.

After he finished cleaning himself he made a square gesture with his paws and the warm fan activated and dried him off. He put on a pair of pajama pants and walked back to his room.

He slumped in his bed and said, "_Mesa-Wall,_play 'sad song playlist.'" The posters turned into gray globs that floated randomly across the room and bounced off each other.

***

A neighborhood away Chester was in a practice room cursing at himself. He kept screwing up a passage and the chair he was sitting on was wobbly.

A rabbit knocked at the door and he punched a code in the glass panel next to the door. It slid open and the rabbit walked in.

"There you are, I've been worried," the rabbit said. "We were supposed to do homework together like half an hour ago."

"Hey Danny. Usually Chester reminds me of stuff. I'm not really organized right now," he said as he poked the music stand a few times.

"You didn't put it in your glasses or phone or laptop or write it down on your tablet?" he asked.

"Usually Chester nags me about that."

"Yeah, I haven't seen him in a long time. Where is he?"

"At home I guess," the kangaroo said aloofly as he messed with the stand some more.

"Why aren't you practicing with him?"

"What is this? Twenty questions?" he asked all flustered.

"Hey, I'm your roommate and your friend. I'm someone that cares about you and your boyfriend, who is also my friend."

"I'm sorry," he said exhaled deeply. "I'm just tired and Chester and I aren't doing a duet anymore."

"Why?" he asked shocked.

"Differences, blah blah blah, stuff you don't understand, blah blah blah," he said dismissively and angrily.

The rabbit's large ears flopped down and he said, "Fine I'm going to find someone else to do the homework with."

***

Quinton swiped a finger across the clear music stand's surface until he found the right page of the song. He put the violin again under his chin and began playing the phrase. His body felt stiffer than usual but he still tried to fight the feeling of fatigue that beset his muscles.

The orange folf tried to suppress a yawn but his muzzle gaped open as he exhaled loudly. He kept his right arm still and then let them both down with a sigh. He placed his violin on its stand and the bow on its hook. He took off his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes.

He sat down at his desk and looked up a couple more pieces to buy. He quickly typed on transparent keyboard screen in front of him and the wall in front of him showed the results. He smiled down at his paws as they furiously worked through each short search. He had a large wolf body but his paws and fingers were colored black and were smaller like his mother's vulpine ones. She could type faster than anyone he knew. He always preferred to type on keyboard screens and trying to make his words per minute increase than using speech to text modes. He felt that it was easier to think and type at the same time than to think while speaking.

He was also glad he had his father's extremely sensitive hearing since he never needed to buy a tuner to tune any instruments. After a little practice it was pretty easy just to tune one string to a piano and then the other three in succession. His father could sing well and had introduced him to music since he had sung in the mixed choir in high school. That thought had always made Quinton feel happy.

In the middle of the thudding of his fingers on the glass he heard a knock on his door.

"Yeah," he said and the large gray wolf walked into his room as the door slid open.

"Hey son, do you want to take a break from everything?" his father asked gently. "You've been practicing non-stop for the past couple hours."

"No, I'm fine," he said and put on a smile that even he knew was completely fake.

"Come on. Your mother and I are going to watch a movie," the wolf said with a kind smile.

"Dad, please," he said with his eyes pleading for more solitude.

"Quinton, we're worried about you. You're not usually this...sad," he tried to say as tactful as possible.

"Dad, I'm fine," he lied unconvincingly.

"It really doesn't look like you're fine and you seem distracted all the time."

"It's nothing."

"Will you please tell me what's wrong?" he asked and sat on the folf's neatly folded bed.

"There's nothing wrong. I'm okay."

"I know you aren't."

Quinton knew he couldn't get out of this one and conceded.

"Come on. What's the matter?"

"Well, Chester and I aren't going to play together because we did have a fight and we wanted to do things differently."

His father nodded and kept silent.

"And Chester didn't get into grad school with me," Quinton said quickly.

"Oh son, I'm sorry," the wolf said as all four ears fell back.

"I wish it weren't that way."

"I'm also kind of jealous of him."

"How so?" his father asked and put a paw on his shoulder.

"I feel like I've wasted so much of my life just working hard and I always feel like I have to be perfect. Chester is naturally so talented and he can relax and take it easy more than me."

"You're talented too and you shouldn't feel bad about working hard."

"But I've wasted so much time being unhappy and playing songs that I don't want to play just to improve. I wish I could be more like Chester and learn how to enjoy life. I'm twenty-two and I'm already an anxious perfectionist that can't relax."

"Just take a little break. It's been a while since we've had family time."

The folf sighed. "I need to practice more."

"But son, we really want you to come downstairs and not be alone so much," his father pleaded.

"Okay," he said and walked down the transparent stairs to the living room. "What are we watching?"

"Clash 2," his dad said with a smile.

"That's streaming already?"

"Yeah, it's been on Mesa-Flicks for a few weeks already."

"We have your favorite," his mom said and lifted a clear bowl of erupted yellow and red popcorn kernels. "It has parmesan cheese and cayenne pepper."

"Mesa-Screen go to Mesa-Flicks," the wolf said to the window in front of them. "Play Clash 2."

The folf sat between his parents and felt uneasy as the spy couple, a coyote and a buck argued and almost got decapitated at the same time by a broken window.

***

Chester was lying down on a white couch with thoughts of Quinton rushing through his head. His eyes were staring up at the white ceiling that was slowly graying from the sunset.

On the coffee table in front of the couch were his glasses and next to them was a clear laptop showing a flamboyant lion vlogging about his day in a vegan frozen yogurt shop.

"According to music theory, a chord is a series of at least three notes that are played at the same time," the rabbit said into his own laptop at a desk behind the couch.

The kangaroo winced at the sound of the rabbit's voice and sat up and put his glasses back on.

"A chord starts with a root," the rabbit continued.

"Hey, Danny can you either just type that or go into your room and do that?" Chester interrupted and glared annoyed at the rabbit.

"It's just faster if I say my homework instead of type it up. _Mesa-Speech-Text_delete last sentence and pause," he said as he looked back at the screen.

"I know but can't you do that in your room?" the kangaroo complained and pointed to a white door slid open as he kept staring at the rabbit.

"But, I don't want to be cooped up in there all the time," he whined. "I want to be around you too. You're my friend," he said kindly with a sad smile.

"Then pick one. Your room or type it," Chester said and crossed his arms dismissively.

"But," the rabbit said and raised a finger.

"No, just pick," the kangaroo shouted back at him.

"Why are you so angry right now?" Danny yelled in return. "I'm tired of you getting mad at me and everyone else because you and Quinton are fighting."

"Shut up!" he interjected with his long ears pointed up. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"It's true. You two have been avoiding one another because you guys are fighting about something stupid. Why do you always have to fight about little things all the time?" he asked sternly.

"No, we don't!" the kangaroo yelled.

"Yes, you do. He got mad at you for buying an expensive pair of tennis shoes because you were wasting money and you got upset at him because he wanted to watch a European art film because you said they were boring. You two always have to bring me in the middle of it and I'm tired of it. I'm not a judge I'm your friend."

Chester sighed and felt a pang of guilt run through him. "Okay, I'm sorry."

"Do you mean it?" Danny asked grimacing.

"What are you talking about, 'do you mean it?' of course I," and then he stopped himself and took a breath. "Yes, I mean it."

"I was so happy when you said that you wanted to find an apartment with me. When my boyfriend left to study in England you and Quinton were both there for me when I had to cry or have someone talk to talk to. It always makes me feel uncomfortable and kind of stressed when you guys fight, especially in front of me."

"I'm sorry for doing that to you. I didn't know that it upset you so much."

"It's okay, well, maybe it's not okay but do you want to talk about what's going on?"

"You're right, it is stupid and that's kind of why I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to if it makes you feel uncomfortable but even if it's embarrassing I won't judge you."

"Well, we've been fighting because we wanted to go about the music improv competition differently and then we agreed to both play as soloists this year."

Danny nodded his head and his eyes showed sympathy and assurance. "I know, you told me before."

"Well, it's a bit more than that. I guess I'm also kind of jealous of Quinton because he's so much better than me."

"That's not true. You're both amazing," the rabbit said encouragingly.

"No, he is better than me," Chester said and sighed. "He spends so much time practicing and he's not only majoring in music performance but he's also majoring in music education. He has his whole life planned out and I can't even plan two days in advance. He won all these awards in high school for music and I only won stuff when the entire orchestra won. I can't put my own name on anything. He also plays the piano better than me and his grades are perfect."

"But that doesn't mean you're not an excellent musician too."

"I know I can play the cello but I'm nothing compared to him," the kangaroo said and his ears drooped. "It's like I could have just stood on the stage with a triangle or I could have just clapped my paws together and we still would have won since he's so good."

"That's not true. I watched both of you last year and you guys played really well with each other. You're both good but you sound even better together."

"Another thing that happened was that he got into his first choice grad school and I didn't."

"What?" the rabbit asked as his eyes widened.

"We're not going to grad school together. I'm a huge, lazy screw up and he's perfect."

"It's only a few years and you'll be together again. Cory and I are still doing fine. We Mesa-Chat and keep up with one another," he said with a smile.

"It'll be that way if I can get into _any_grad school," Chester said and clenched his paw into a fist.

"Well, you don't have to go to grad school and you could just live with him."

"I guess but I can't just live off of him. I don't like thinking about this and I don't want to think about it but my mind keeps reminding me of everything."

"I'm sorry about everything," the rabbit said. "I do wish that you would have told me these things before but I understand that it's been tough for you."

Chester's ears drooped even more.

"Do you need a hug?" the rabbit asked and spread his arms wide apart.

"Yeah, I'd like one," he said with a wry smile.

The two friends hugged but the kangaroo still felt bitterness in his core.

"I don't know what to do. Maybe I should just practice some more."

***

The day of the performance took place in the lyceum of the Student Union Building. The students rushed in wearing neon and glow sticks. There were two judges for the performances in the front, who were a male panther in a sleek tuxedo and a doe in an elegant black dress and behind them the sea of dancers made up the audience. The walls of the lyceum changed depending on the songs and genres that would be played. The lights flashed according to the music and the heat kept rising in the crowded room. All the performers were in formal concert outfits.

When Chester was up he got his cello connected to a speaker with a small wireless sticker. His song started with an industrial techno beat and a mix between country and jazz started to play. The walls consisted of rusted gears that turned to the slow beat. He listened for the chord and jumped in. He cleared his head and let the music control his fingers. The gears spun faster and factory workers marched around the walls with various instruments. After ten minutes he dragged his bow slowly trying to produce a diminuendo along with a ritardando, the song ended and he looked up at the cheering crowd. The judges thanked him and finished writing their critiques.

Up next was Quinton. Beats from an Italian disco song started to play and the melody was J-Pop and heavy metal made up the harmony. He was precise and made sure he was counting correctly and hearing the correct chords. Cartoon flames filled the walls as shimmering cherry blossom leaves perfunctorily fell into the flames and mopeds with skeletal drivers sped across the scene. The folf tried not to put his ears back and make it look like he was thinking too much and so he could hear everything correctly. His patterns were to be exact and as clean as possible. He finished the song with a loud sforzando. He received the same amount of applauses and was thanked by the judges.

"Great job," Quinton said to Chester as they waited behind the stage.

"You're just teasing me," he replied.

"No, really you did wonderfully."

"You too."

The panther walked up to the stage.

"I guess they're announcing who's going to win," the folf said as he grabbed the kangaroo's paw and gave it a squeeze.

"In third place," the judge said in his booming voice through the booming speaker system "We have Jake Smith." The crowd cheered gallantly for him.

A Lion with an oboe walked onto the stage and accepted his framed paper.

"In second we have..." He paused again for dramatic effect and the two boyfriends looked at one another. "Tiffany Ling." There was a bigger applause.

A white mouse who played the harp walked onto the stage and received a small chrome trophy.

The two then gave each other a funny look filled with anxiety.

"In first place we have..." He paused again. The couple squeezed on another's paws even tighter. "The Lass twins, Jack and Virginia."

They were two tigers that both wore tuxedos despite Virginia being female. Jack was holding a flute and Virginia an acoustic guitar. They had a large chrome trophy with an eighth note engraved on the front.

Quinton and Chester gave each other a look of shock and dismay as the crowd was cheering harder than they had ever heard.

A little while later they sat outside the building as it kept showing various people and the players at a football game. Soon it showed the UPNw team scoring a touchdown. They had their critiques in envelopes and they tore through them and started reading them.

Chester went first. "They said that they liked my creativity but I was too sloppy, and my transitions took too long and they said I wasn't counting.

Then Quinton confessed his results. "They said that I was very concise and clean but it sounded too much like songs that have been played and it was too simple and I was way too rigid. I found out that all the winners were sophomores."

"Maybe we need each other to win," Chester said and smiled up to the folf.

"Yeah, we shouldn't have messed with the formula."

"Class of twenty-fourteen gets nothing from this," the kangaroo said as his shoulders, tail and ears slouched.

"Well, we've still got each other," the folf said with a slight grin.

"Ugh, you're so corny," his boyfriend said with disgust. "But you know what? I love you."

"I love you too."

The two embraced and then kissed on the glass bench as the video behind them showed a forty foot tall kangaroo and a folf blissfully playing a cello and violin with their eyes closed.