Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ VIVA ❯ Sunday in D melodic minor ( Chapter 6 )

7: Sunday in D melodic minor

Snow finally came to the Wing College of the Arts in the form of a blustery blizzard that hit without warning during the night, sending wayward sheets of music flying and caressing instruments left out of the cases, filling the air with a ringing overtone. It was the first morning of the semester that student's were not woken by the blaring strains of the last post, for which more than a few were grateful.

Wufei woke at six. One look out the window had hits guts twisting. He did not like the cold. In fact, no one at the Wing College of the Arts liked the cold. Cold meant your instrument was likely to have frozen valves, stick to your lips as it warmed up and give you a burn. Fingers never worked properly, resulting in twice as much homework as was really necessary. Vocalists coughed on every second note, sneezed on every third, and dancers tended to sprain things, muscles freezing up, putting them out of commission for far too lengthy periods of time. As for theatre majors…Well, Wufei didn't really have an excuse. He just didn't like the cold.

Subsequently, upon waking at six in the morning, not an ungodly hour but not exactly pleasant either, Wufei felt it only just to share his discomfort. Shrugging into his clothes, with an additional overcoat over the top, Wufei braced himself before opening the window to the cold. The window directly across from his was shut, the curtain closed. Wufei grinned.

All along the windowsill was a line of stones. Not heavy stones, but nice little flat ones that would make a lot of noise if you threw them at something but wouldn't break anything. Several he had found himself while walking between classes, others familiar theatre students had given to him after watching him `use' them last semester. Apparently Wufei was not the only one who found a pissed off Heero Yuy amusing. Just so long as he wasn't breathing down their necks.

Wufei selected the morning's stone, took aim and promptly let fly, critically watching the way the stone arced in the air, then fell at that exact moment, clattered against the glass and rolled off, falling down…Wufei wondered if stones felt pain. All nature was, after all, supposed to be connected.

Deciding he was not about to start the `rights for stones' campaign, Wufei slammed the window shut and headed for his door. He was just walking through it when he heard the familiar strains of a pissed off Heero Yuy echo across the courtyard between their rooms.

`CHANG!' Ah yes, early morning rituals have a place. Perhaps that was what kept Standish going.

A lop-sided grin firmly in place, Wufei headed to the theatre dining room, realizing he had not actually eaten a single meal there this semester. Odd. He usually tried to eat a meal a day among theatre majors just to get a feel of what they were studying, where they were up to and what they were planning. If you wanted to stay ahead, after all, it was best to know what the competition was up to.

So, Wufei walked into the theatre dining room to find it far from abandoned, surprising him. Usually theatre majors were the last to get up in the morning, preferring late nights and late mornings to early anything. Night owls, the lot of them, and Wufei was one of them. Shaking his head at his own stupidity for actually wanting to hang around music majors, Wufei headed to the breakfast bar and grabbed a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk before moving toward a table.

"Chang!" Wufei groaned internally. Why had he not seen her? She was always at the center of any large group of theatre majors and she seemed determined to have Wufei work with her on anything and everything. Hell, just one thing really. Wufei just couldn't understand why she wouldn't leave him alone.

"Po."

Sally Po was a rather energetic female in her second year at the college. She was well liked, probably because she had more balls than most of the guys and tended to tell you exactly what she thought. Then, of course, there was that one time when she went head to head against Dorothy Catalonia in a debate over who was smarter: theatre or music majors. Amazingly enough, theatre won, but only because Heero decided to grunt at entirely the wrong time.

After much jostling about and far too much chatter for Wufei's like, he found himself sitting between Sally Po and one of her little henchmen, a book thrust under his nose and several pictures pointing at a rather grotesque image. That, if anything else, was why Wufei didn't want to work with Sally Po. Her major was a haphazard conglomerate of subjects she liked to term `Medical theatre', which basically meant she went through every culture it he world in search of the most disgusting performances of people being chopped up, mutilated, sliced, diced, whatever…in the name of entertainment. She just adored Ancient Rome. One guess why.

The present image was not as bad as some. It was a photo of a dead girl lying prone on the front of the stage, hand thrown off to the side, a rose in her palm. Small thorn pricks adorned the fingers, trickles of blood leaking over the side. Her skin was pale, clammy, blue tinged in the throws of death, her eyes unseeing as she looked off into the distance. On her neck were two unmistakable spots. A bite. Well, at least it had something to do with macabre this time. Last time…no, Wufei was not going to think about last time. Suffice to say Minoans were creative.

"Po, what is this?"

"What are you blind? It's a picture of a dead woman, killed by a vampire…on stage!"

"There is no such thing as vampires. It's just an actress."

"Well, yes, this one is just an actress, but they were reenacting scenes from French theatre, where people did die on stage. Of course, those deaths were unexplainable."

At least she was willing to admit that much. Taking a deep breath, Wufei gave the small audience he had somehow gathered a long tirade on the history of the macabre in French theatre, including the rise in popularity of the vampire figure, how it came to be and when it came into the French theatre scene. It was long winded, boring as hell and as dry as he could possibly make it, which really was saying something, and by the time he had finished, only Sally remained, watching his face in avid curiosity.

"Are you finished scaring people away?"

"Yes."

"Good. What are we going to do at the end of semester concert?"

"We are doing nothing. I am working with the EO again."

"And they'll ignore you, as always. Work with your own kind Chang."

Wufei frowned darkly, not because she referred to him as being part of `her own kind' but because she was right. The Electric Orchestra would take his ideas, do whatever they wanted with them and throw the leftovers away. In the end, the decision for what went on stage and what stayed off was made by Heero, and Heero was never going to admit Wufei knew more about anything than he did.

Sally Po's offer was suddenly much more appealing than it had ever seemed before. He decided it was time to test her resolve.

"I want to torture someone in the middle of someone's performance."

"Alright." Wufei decided Sally was mad.

"I want to kill them when the stage collapses."

"Doable." Off her flaming rocker.

"I want to cause a riot and have the audience stampede out the front gates, trampling the music majors."

"Done." Wufei quirked a brow. Had she just said `done'?

"Woman, is there nothing you wouldn't stoop to?"

Sally Po leant back in her chair, a triumphant smirk marring her otherwise quite attractive face. She tugged on one long twist of hair.

"Chang, there are over two hundred theatre majors at this college and they work twice as hard as anyone else. We attend more classes and have twice the workload. At the end of the year, five little slots are made in the concert for theatre productions. Five. Out of three hundred slots! Maybe you never noticed because you've created your own damn slot alongside the EO, I don't know, but the rest of us would do anything to make our mark. Those who get the slots are not those who deserve them. They go to whoever Dermail likes best, and you know what Dermail likes best!"

Oh yes, Wufei knew all too well. Spandex and leotards. Total retardation. Still, Wufei wondered how he had failed to notice what Sally was talking about. He had to admit he spent most of his time with the EO and very little time working on anything else. A lot of his own study was still devoted to a music curriculum. It made sense that he would not have noticed differences between the two courses.

"When all those job scouts go home after the end of year concert, what do you think they remember? Is it the flashy show put on by the top rock band, the latest virtuoso extravaganza of the Electric Orchestra, maybe the incredible ballet by the top dancer? Or is the latest skit stuck between two performances? We want recognition Wufei; we need it, or we aren't going to have jack shit at the end of our time here."

Wufei took a deep breath and tried to relax. Sally had a way of powering up anyone's emotional drive, and people tended to act rashly after talking to her. The last thing he needed was to make promises he could not and would not keep.

"What has this got to do with me?"

"You mean apart from the fact you are a theatre major and in the same position as the rest of us?"

"Yes, other than that."

"You are in the best position to help us."

Well, he couldn't argue there. The Electric Orchestra now owned the last ten slots of the night for end of semester concert. One of those belonged to Wufei, to do with what he wished. And at that moment, Wufei was feeling rather rebellious about the things he could put it to use for.

"I take it you have something in mind?"

Sally's smirk broadened and she rolled her eyes.

"Well, personally, I liked the torture, killing and mayhem idea, and you know I'm always up for trampling musicians, but since you mention it, I may have some ideas that would interest you."

"Alright. Let's hear it."

And so Wufei found himself sharing the day with the strangest person he had ever met and found, to his own amazement and Sally's bemusement, that the two of them actually had quite a bit in common. There were many crossovers between the macabre theatre genre and whatever Sally believed she was studying. By the time night began to fall and the theatre majors were once again filing into the dining room for dinner, a ream of paper was spread out across the center table, Sally and Wufei at its head with arms crossed in all seriousness as the locked eyes with each theatre individual and had them write their name, major and year down and their willingness to help take over the end of semester concert.

Wufei watched them come, watched the eagerness in their faces as they added their names. His mind ticked over, dreaming up tasks for each one, paying particular interest to the street theatre majors. There was potential here. Lots of potential. These were the best of the best; the ultimate in stage performance from the whole of earth and the colonies. They could do much more than five acts. Much more.

"I can hear your brain working from here," Sally hissed at his shoulder.

"I thought that was what you wanted?"

"It is, but I don't want you to scare anyone away."

"If they can't handle me thinking, they will never cope with what we have planned."

"True."

"Stop agreeing with me and keep watching."

Sally ceased her prattle, blowing him a kiss as she reverted to nodding to those still entering and explaining what needed to be done while Wufei continued to assess each individual and their usefulness. If he could get the EO to agree with the plan…

Wufei decided he needed to see Howard.

*

While theatre majors planned revolt, and musicians continued with their everyday routine, dance majors were locked inside their haven of warmth, trying to ignore the white feather soft beauty raining down outside. To do this, it was imperative they remain indoors, hidden away on their own small island of F195.

Duo Maxwell had hidden away in his room, door shut and sealed off from too interested dancers and window wide open, trying to let in some fresh air and subsequently drowning in snow. Not that Duo really minded. It was cold, yes, but better than the alternative.

Duo had searched the school three times over the last few days, and failed in his mission. It was beginning to annoy him that he could not find a single system capable of running the heaters. He was beginning to think the heaters were run by the colony generators and not by an internal system at the school at all. It was the only explanation. Unfortunately, it also meant every indoor space on the colony was the same temperature, which was too damn hot! Either the man upstairs was frosty the snowman and wanted a Caribbean vacation, or god had a very odd sense of humor.

So Duo had resorted to leaving the window open and rugging up as much as possible, which really wasn't much considering he only owned one coat, two jumpers and the blankets that had come with his room and bed when he arrived. Still, he was not freezing, and he could breathe, which he considered to be a step ahead of where he would be were he downstairs and cramped in the sauna that had once been the dance dining hall.

He had already been through three of his favorite CD's and written out seven different dance routines. His homework had only asked for five, but he was bored. He had also written out three separate sets of lyrics for the piece of music his vocal lecturer had set and was contemplating doing a fourth just for the hell of it when somebody finally knocked on his door.

"Who is it?"

"Noin!"

"Shit!" He quickly shut the window, tossed off his blankets and tried to pretend the room was toasty, not an easy thing, even when you had had as much practice as Duo had. Still, he thought he pulled it off quite well as he plastered a manic grin on his face and opened the door.

"Maxwell, I've been looking everywhere for you. Here." She shoved a small parcel into his hands, turned sharply on her heel, and strode away, leaving a very dumbfounded Duo Maxwell standing in his doorway, once again alone.

After a few more moments of shock, Duo looked over the parcel. Small, bound up in yellow paper, ink slightly smudged it had `vocal/dance' scrawled over the front of it. Intrigued, Duo moved back into his room, closing the door and opening the window as he emptied the contents onto his small desk. A CD, a dictionary, and a sheet of instructions.

Write lyrics to the song on the CD. Lyrics must be in Finnish and include the theme `nightmare'.

"What the fuck?" Duo re-read the instructions. He didn't know any Finnish, and a dictionary didn't sound like the best way to start learning to him. However, he was sure the name on the bottom of the sheet belonged to a teacher, and he wasn't about to argue. He just wished they had bothered to put a date due on the envelope, and maybe the location where it was to be handed in. What the hell was it for anyway?

Sighing, Duo sat at his desk and began flicking through the dictionary. Soon his room was sound with a distorted version of the Finnish alphabet and the occasional giggle as Duo began the arduous process of trying to fit Finnish words to music.

Little did Duo Maxwell know, there was one teacher at the Wing College of the Arts who was far from `proper' in their teaching approaches…