Another squawked note, and he's about ready to throw the stupid instrument out the window.
In fact, he's about to, until he sees the priceless signature on the shimmering brass bell of the saxophone in his hands. He sits on his bed and sighs. This has escalated so as to have gotten to be infuriating. Practicing has never made him this worked up, and yet...
Maybe it has to do with where this saxophone came from, and what he's practicing for. He smiles at the thought for a moment before his brows re-furrow.
Maybe it's because of the person who gave him the brass-woodwind hybrid that Nathaniel Walker is making such a big stink over this. No, that's not a maybe. Arlo Jones is most definitely the reason for all the huffing and hair-tearing-out. He's always been a perfectionist, but add Arlo and...
Nothing's ever good enough now. It never has been, for him. He wants to be better, wants to show Arlo, everyone, what he can really do... do his lover proud with the first Christmas present he received from the spirit of New Jersey. But to Nate, all that's come of his hard work is cracked notes and complete, utter tripe.
Hannah Walker listens to her son with a critical ear as she works on the pie filling she's making for the school band's bake sale. As she rolls and lays the crust in the pan, she absentmindedly notes that this is the hardest that boy's ever practiced.
A few seconds later as she hears an aggravated cry ring through the house, she also adds that this is without a doubt the best he's ever sounded.
xo indigold · Thu Apr 29, 2010 @ 05:14pm · 0 Comments |