Noah
Is there really a better feeling than knowing everything you had worked for and planned had come true?
It’s a rare, delightful gift in a world we fundamentally don’t control. I was self-aware enough to know my purpose involved the creation and performance of fine art and I was lucky enough to be able to attend a high school abroad in the states to pursue that. After many years of honing my skills and winning awards, I got myself a scholarship into one of the most respected conservatories in the world.
Before I came here, I spent two months researching what summer plans would be best for my overall education and career. I found several impressive classes and camps, but I ultimately decided on applying to the Rhizome Entertainment Workshop. Attending a workshop run by a label was bound to give me the necessary industry experience and connections, not to mention it would significantly buff up my resume. I knew my chances were slim, but I was delighted to know that I got in. I made sure to inform the other programs I had signed up for that I settled on this workshop and flew to Austin.
So far everything seemed good, though I wished the campus was closer to the city. The workshop was rather isolated from the rest of the area. Nonetheless it was an exceptional campus. Especially for a relatively new label. My Roommate–Griffin–supposedly had a small following online making alternative music in different subcultures, though the boy himself was rather meek. He apparently came from Eastern Europeeastern europe, Belarus to be specific, and he arrived in the bus with the other Eeuropean students. I would enjoy learning more about Belarus, but he didn’t seem like the talkative type and kept to himself after only five minutes. Though I appreciated the people who chose roommates for giving me another European international student to stay with, even though I would have been fine with just about anyone.
I checked the schedule I had printed out and laminated the week before and escorted myself to the dining hall in the larger building our buses parked in front of when we arrived. Looking at the crowd, there were about 20 people. Some lining up with metal trays and others chatting at the tables or outside the dining hall. Now that I could see what I believed to be the majority of the students, it was safe to say I recognized some, specifically AYDEN, whose table was surrounded by a group of people and not lacking any attention. It seemed as if everyone was engaged in something.
I lined up for dinner. While I was waiting I was curious to know who else was a part of my class. Though I still didn't grasp the concept of classes as a whole for this specific program, especially given its competitive nature. Would they be allies? Foes?
I feel someone tap on my shoulder as I put ingredients into my taco shell, I turn to see a shorter girl with bob length black hair smiling up at me. She spared no time getting to the point:
“Hey, are you in Class D?” she tilted her head slightly.
I raised a brow at the girl. I guess I didn’t expect to be approached so directly like that. “Yes, I am–”
Her enthusiasm was apparent, “That’s awesome! I’m trying to find everyone else in the class. Let’s sit together!” I noticed that she didn’t add any vegetables to her taco but loaded it with spices. I was a little confused but ultimately nodded and followed her to the table.
There was only one other person who was already eating. A girl dressed in green with wavy brown hair with blonde highlights. She gave me a smile and waved, I nodded my head in return and took a seat across from her.
“Yeah, I went around the dining hall to see if anyone else was in Class D but no luck, guess it’s just us for now! Let’s start icebreakers!” Said the intrepid girl who just brought me over. She stood up a little and put her hands on the round cafeteria table, “I’m Jazmin! I’m from South Korea, I make Pop and R&B, and I came here because…” she paused, “I thought this would be fun to do over the summer!” She sat down and stopped talking, implying she wanted the two of us to introduce ourselves the same way.
“Well hello, you can call me Noah, I’m from The Netherlands, I make folk music and I’m here…” I try to phrase my reasoning for coming in a way that didn’t sound like I was checking off a box, “I want to learn more about the music industry and with my best efforts, get signed to a label.”
“Oh yeah, there’s eliminations and stuff, I forgot about that,” replied Jazmin. We both turn our heads to the last person at the table. Upon realizing eyes were on her, she got a noticeable tinge of anxiety, perking up and finding her words.
“Oh, well hello! I’m Hana ummm, I make uhhh Pop and Country and I’m here because I ummm…am just also here to learn and maybe get signed?”
This Hana girl seemed bubbly, if not a bit awkward, but if I really was competing against them, you could say I had no issue. I finally started picking at my tacos, which had unfortunately gone cold.
Jazmin’s eyes lit up,“Wait, so you’re all international students? That’s awesome! I mean I can’t believe I’m actually in America! It’s gonna be so cool! I’ve wanted to come here since I was a kid!”
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Hana gave her a half-hearted chuckle. I felt that way once, I think. But boarding here since I was 14 really killed the magic. It’s only a matter of realizing how overprocessed all the food is to the far inferior public transport to realizing that the U.S is far more and far less than Hollywood, L.A, Boston and NYC. Though this workshop seemed like a bubble so it wouldn’t kill her enthusiasm that quickly.
“I’ve been before–well once. When I was very young. But it was great!” Hana added, “I wonder where the rest of our class is.”
Jazmin tapped her foot and made an exaggerated hmmm sound, “Good point, I wonder how many people are even in our class?”
“Four to five.” I said, calmly. The girls are silent, as if waiting for an explanation, “There are approximately 20 students here. We are Class D which implies the existence of classes A through C. I think it’s more likely that there are five students per class since four seems awfully low for a class ratio.”
“Wow! You’re really smart! I can’t wait to meet the other guys!” I didn’t know why she was so impressed, but I took that compliment and I gave her a nod.
******
The rest of that night was uneventful, the conversation with the two girls eventually fizzled out, Jazmin was practically carrying the entire thing. Hana seemed shy and I myself am admittedly not great at talking to women.
The morning after, once my alarm went off and I had gotten dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, gathered my instruments and backpack which I packed the night before, applied a modest amount of cologne and of course, brought my schedule, I headed over to the gym/auditorium where we would be having our first orientation. Though it makes you wonder why they would have a typical school gym at a workshop program for a label.
Daylight pours in through the windows.I check my watch. The place was practically empty. Good. I like being ten minutes early. I found a seat in the bleachers where I set down my backpack and instruments. A few minutes later, I noticed more people trickling in. Some people came in pairs and socialized, while others sat alone by the bleachers much like myself. Certainly a diverse group. People of different backgrounds and nations, all aspiring musicians and invited to this program.
I passed the time by checking my schedule and messages, occasionally looking up to see if anyone I knew was here. The last of the estimated number of people arrived later and I put my phone down. The orientation would be starting soon.
Just like that, the clacking of heels echoed in the wide space of the gym, chatter simmered down as Elza Von Fay–the woman I presumed was the director of the program who led the auditions–walked from behind the curtains onto the stage at the front of the gym. She looked to be wearing the same outfit she did in the audition, brown french braids, darker brown barrett, only this time I could see below her torso and noticed she had on a thigh length poofy brown skirt under her white frilled top.
“Good Morning students,” she said, her voice collected and to the point, just like the audition. Most of the students sitting on the bleachers got up and walked to the front of the stage where everyone else was gathering in a group. I joined them.“Each and every one of you here should be immensely proud of yourselves. We went through a lot of applicants and handpicked all 21 of you for your passion, charisma, creativity and talent. So please, give yourselves a round of applause.”
I did as instructed, the clapping somehow feeling hollow as it echoed in the unfittingly large room, as if this place was meant to hold more people. “Today, you will be paired up into your classes. They have been chosen based on similar skill level and compatibility. Consider your class your ‘team’ of sorts. However, class numbers and members may be subject to change over the course of this workshop.” Miss Von Fay took out a piece of paper. “When I read out the names of each member of each class, please group up with your classmates……Class A: Anora, Ayden, Connor, Luis and Serafina.”
The kids found each other, scattered about. One of the girls who was chosen–didn’t know who but had green and purple hair, looked ecstatic. If I had to guess it was because she was in the same class as AYDEN. On the other end, one of the guys with curly black hair who joined the cluster looked in disbelief, and judging by his expression, it wasn’t the positive kind.
“Class B: Adam, Belle, Mathias, Stephanie, Theo.” Another cluster of five kids joins together. My predictions for the number of classes and class sizes looked correct.
“Class C: Christiana, Jonah, Griffin, Inez, Kai and Natalie.” My roommate was paired with a bunch of other people I didn’t know. Most of them didn’t look surprised, they were practically standing together before Miss Von Fay even went up on stage. Guess they had the same orientation our class did during dinner last night.
“And finally, Class D: Hana, Jazmin, Lola, Noah and Rowan.” It was finally my turn. I met Jazmin and Hana last night and I would finally meet the other two. Jazmin looked as hyper and bubbly as she was last night and Hana was the same too. The first of the two I noticed was Lola. She was a black girl on the short side with long, silky hair with some of it pulled into two small pigtails. She wasn’t smiling, looking tired but not unfriendly. She was more focused on the lollipop she was sucking than us. As for Rowan…I couldn’t find him, I looked over the gym but nobody else was coming our way. It was just the three girls and I–
“Sorry I’m late, ma’am.” The voice came from the back of the room. His tone without a shred of sincerity. An older teenage boy the gym doors open, obviously coming in late. Kid looked like a punk. For starters, he was barely pulled together. Baggy and half-assed. Clothing expression was more lenient here but if he tried that at my boarding school he’d have been suspended.
Our final classmate.
“Rowan,” said Miss Von Fay, “You are in Class D.” She pointed to us. I could feel myself withering in real time.
“Gotcha.” Rowan gave her finger guns in response and our class was complete.
Miss Von Fay clears her throat to get everyone’s attention again, “Before I dismiss you for breakfast, as per your schedule, you will be having your first meeting with your class today and in your classrooms, I’ve given you a schedule of things to accomplish. Class A will be meeting in 101, B in 105, C in 201 and D in 205 respectively. If by any chance you forget, please refer to the map or look for your class name outside the door. Thank you.”
Miss Von Fay nods, some of us clap as she walks backstage. Once she’s gone, we disperse, and left with all that information to swallow during breakfast.