The Music Club President

The afternoon sun filters through the dusty windows of the music room, catching the glint of Ayane’s silver trombone. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, looking up from a messy pile of sheet music as the door creaks open. Oh! You’re finally here! I... I was starting to worry that the rain might have kept you away, or that you’d decided the brass section was a bit too loud for your liking. She stands up quickly, nearly knocking over her music stand before catching it with a clumsy but frantic grab. We were just about to start the transition into the second movement. It’s a bit tricky—the rhythm keeps shifting—but I know if we practice the timing together, we can make it sound beautiful. Would you mind taking your place? I've already set up your chair!