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Karl Jacobs plays the cello.
Karl Jacobs plays the cello very, very well in fact. One of the best cellists in the whole school.
Karl Jacobs even plays his own music sometimes. The pieces he composes are absolutely beautiful.
Karl Jacobs, unfortunately, likes to play at 4 AM. His songs are not so beautiful when it keeps people awake.
"Jacobs," The voice outside his door was one so familiar, always accompanied by a rapid succession of knocking.
Karl rolled his eyes as he leaned his cello against his bed, walking towards his door, and swung it open.
"What?" Karl asked.
"Curfew was like 7 hours ago, will you please shut up," Sapnap hissed.
"I'm writing a piece and if I wait until tomorrow-"
"You'll forget it, I know, I know, you've said that countless times before-" Sapnap groaned. "Might I suggest voice notes? Fucking, sing it out, Jacobs."
"That doesn't work out good, and I need to practice," Karl said. "We can't all just be good without practice."
"Okay, not this again," Sapnap rolled his eyes. "You can practice in the morning, for the love of god Jacobs, I have a class with Desrosier first thing tomorrow, she's gonna roast me if I'm late."
"No one else has a problem with it Sapnap," Karl said. "Why do you?"
"Because I have been cursed with sharing a wall with you," Sapnap sighed. "The other closest room is George and he'll sleep through a Tsunami."
"I just need to finish four bars," Karl bargained.
"Jacobs-" Sapnap whined.
"Four bars and I'll steal coffee for you from the teacher's lounge for breakfast tomorrow," Karl said.
"Fine," Sapnap grumbled as he dragged his feet back into his room.
The thing is, Karl did intend on fulfilling his promise and get coffee for Sapnap the next morning, had he woken up that is. After missing the first two periods of History and Math (which was honestly a blessing, Karl would've slept through them anyway), Karl sprinted into his English class, tie undone, shirt untucked, and shoes untied.
"Look who finally showed," Sapnap sneered. "You still owe me coffee."
"You look like you just got run over by a bus," Quackity said.
"Stayed up late again, did you?" George asked.
"Yes!" Sapnap exclaimed loudly. "4:12 AM, I do not know how you slept through it Gogs."
"Is that why I had to come get you?" Dream asked.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Karl muttered as he took his seat around his friends.
"You should be," Sapnap mumbled. "Desrosier wouldn't shut up for like 10 minutes that we came in like 3 minutes late."
"I said I am, god-" Karl rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be so whiny about it."
Sapnap opened his mouth to say something snarky back but Mr. Mathers came in. Sapnap rolled his eyes as Karl just huffed, both of them trying to tune in to his lesson on The Great Gatsby.
The class went by way too slow. Karl spent the entire class scribbling on his notebook, his brain tuning out the talks about the green light and the eyes, and the whatever that happened to Leonardo DiCaprio- see Karl only watched the movie.
He was humming, soft and slow, repeating the tune he'd been curating in his mind for the past few weeks, pencil tapping on the desk. He heard Sapnap, who unfortunately was sitting right behind him, huff very deeply. Karl stopped almost immediately, knowing this awkwardness with his friends' friend was always at the edge of spilling into a fight. And then what?
Dream and Sapnap had been friends since before they came to the school, and they're friends with George, who's friends with Quackity, who is also friends with Sapnap. Quackity and George being Karl's closest friends make this complicated because Karl never thought Sapnap liked him very much.
There was always that bit of tension coming from the two string players of the group. Theoretically, they should be good friends. George, Dream, and Quackity playing bass, guitar, and piano respectively tend to have more songs in common in comparison to a violin and a cello.
There was even that one time when he and Sapnap made up half of a string quartet for the Spring recital, and they did perform pretty well.
Well actually, the practice for that was kind of difficult and either of them was constantly annoyed with the other, so I guess-
"Hey," Quackity snapped his fingers loudly in front of Karl. "Class is over, wake up."
Karl snapped awake from his daze. I guess he looked so out of it that it may have looked like he was napping with his eyes open.
"Maybe he should've slept last night," Sapnap muttered.
"I wasn't asleep," Karl scowled.
"Tell me about it," Sapnap rolled his eyes as the group made their way into the halls for lunch.
"Sapnap, I offered earplugs," Karl said. "You just didn't take them, that's on you."
"We share a wall, it vibrates, your cello is loud, and you stomping, pushing your sheet stand over, or throwing your pen across the room when you're angry doesn't help," Sapnap said.
"Okay, okay," Dream interjected, throwing his arms around Sapnap and Karl. "We're not fighting today boys, we're not gonna fight-"
"We're not fighting," Karl said.
"We're not fighting," Quackity mimicked mockingly. "All you two do is fight."
"Let them fight," George said boringly. "It's just the audition nerves."
Karl and Sapnap glanced at each other, eyes meeting before averting their gaze quickly.
"Audition," Dream questioned. "You're both going to be fine, the Junior Philharmonic Academy is going to take you both."
"You both play different instruments, you're not exactly in competition," Quackity said.
"Wrong audition," George chimed in. "They don't care about the 4-week summer program, come on Dream."
"Who's coming then?" Dream asked. "Ooh-" He hummed when he suddenly remembered. "Julliard."
"Julliard," Quackity repeated ominously.
"Easy for you to say," Karl said. "You guys have already committed."
"Not really committed-" George shrugged. "More like legacy privilege," George pursed his lips. "In my defense, I offered you both an audition with the board."
"I'm not interested in going to Royal Academy of Music," Sapnap said.
"Why not? It's like third-best in the world," Dream said.
"It's also in the UK," Sapnap said. "What do I have in the UK?"
"Me," George sounded very offended. "I'm going there remember?"
"And me," Dream said.
"Exactly, you both have each other," Karl sneered. "I'm not trying to third-wheel for 4 years."
"Come with me then," Quackity said. "You two already got the Curtis acceptance."
"I wanna go back to New York Q," Karl sighed. "I wanna go home."
"And let's face it, Julliard is the best school for violinists," Sapnap said.
"I mean," Quackity shrugged. "Stay stressed I guess. When are the scouts coming?"
Sapnap and Karl looked at each other, both knowing that they've memorized the date at the back of their minds.
"Friday," They answered at the same time.
"Well," Dream said. "You got 4-5 days to prepare."
"You'll be fine," George sighed. "That thing about only taking one string is absolute bullshit, you both know it."
"What?" Quackity asked though Karl and Sapnap stayed quiet.
"There's this rumor going around that Jönsson is part of the scouting committee this year," George explained as they sat down on the lunch table.
"Layman terms Georgie," Dream said.
"Gerhart Jönsson, worked at Philharmonic since he was 18. Worked for 13 years, 5 of which was first chair violin, 2 as conductor, and 3 as a composer," George said. "Now a professor at Julliard, unbelievably mean."
"And you know this because-" Dream mumbled.
"Used to be roommates with my father," George muttered.
"Of course he was," Dream said.
"It's not a rumor," Karl said. "I've got a friend at Burton's Academy of Music and Jönsson came and shredded-"
"And you're better," George shut it down almost immediately. "You're the best cellist in the school-" he turned to Sapnap before he could say anything. "And you're the best violinist. You're fine."
"And what-" Quackity chimed in. "What's this one string thing?"
"Jönsson doesn't take more than one string per school," Sapnap said.
"Which is a bullshit rumor," George said calmly.
"Well he hasn't this year," Karl said defensively.
"He's not the only one in the scouts. Marianna Bianchi and Alexis Mertens are also coming and they're arguably nicer," George said.
"So you do know that Jönsson was coming," Sapnap accused. "So you lied."
"I didn't want you to worry," George shrugged. "And the bullshit rumor was about the strings. He's not gonna keep to his so-called rule once he hears you guys play."
"You don't know that," Karl muttered softly.
"Yes, I do know that," George said sternly. "Both of you just- go, practice, scatter, you'll be fine."
Karl and Sapnap, both with their untouched lunches, quickly cleaned up and left their three friends to sit in the dining hall, running off to grind their asses off for the next 5 days. George sat back, sighing as he shook his head before taking a bite out of his lunch.
"Right, so how much pull do you have with Jönsson?" Quackity said. "Fess up legacy."
"I don't know what you're talking about," George replied.
"Your father's roommate?" Dream questioned.
"Yep," George nodded.
"And?" Dream continued.
"He might be-" George said slowly. "My sister's godfather."
"Oh my god," Quackity cackled loudly. "Oh my god-"
"You are not telling Sapnap or Karl, they will never forgive me if they think I had anything to do with their admission," George said. "They're on their own, I promise."
"If you know this Jönsson, why didn't you go to Julliard?" Dream asked.
"Yeah, I think your god-uncle would have the same-" Quackity mulled over. "-influence as a legacy.
"Oh it does," George answered easily. "But Jönsson is a mean motherfucker and I'm not spending 4 years with him breathing down my neck."
"Oh is he that bad?" Quackity asked and George simply nodded wordlessly.
"Well good luck to Sapnap and Karl then, I guess," Dream grimaced.
To say that the following five days were torture is a bit of an understatement. Karl and Sapnap both constantly looked like they were actually run over by a bus. Every waking moment was filled with the repetition of the same few pieces, played over and over and over again. They were grumpy, overworked, under-slept, exhausted doesn't even begin to explain it.
But the thing was, Sapnap still gets his daily sleep. He knows his strengths, his weaknesses, and sleep- blissful sleep he knows, is very much needed for a good performance. So he tried to sleep.
However, adding stress to Karl's already fucked up sleep schedules and nocturnal tendencies means that Karl didn't sleep. By Wednesday, his friends were almost sure his body was 70% Monster energy drinks and not water.
The tension got worse, glares being thrown, annoyed huffs when each other came to meet their friends for lunch or dinner, both of them resigning to eat their meals in their room, or not eat at all for that matter.
By Thursday, Sapnap was at the brink of exploding, while Karl was at the brink of passing out.
"I can't- I can't-" To say Sapnap was infuriated wasn't even close. "It's tomorrow, and I need to sleep, he just needs to fucking shut-"
"Hey, hey-" Dream said. "Skip class, skip class and sleep in my room, I offered."
"There's an algebra quiz on Monday, I can't-" Sapnap exclaimed.
"Yes," George said adamantly. "Yes, you can."
Dream had grabbed Sapnap by the arm and forced him to look him in the eyes.
"You are taking a nap. Now," Dream forced.
"I-" Sapnap wanted to interject, but then he saw Quackity's eyes widen as he saw the person entering the dining hall.
Karl had managed to get himself out of his room, at about half-past noon after skipping however many classes, and is now looking at his friends.
Sapnap turned and looked at him with an immediate scowl. Quackity, Dream, and George immediately made a sort of panicked eye contact before Dream forcefully pulled Sapnap up from his chair to get him as far away from Karl.
"God-" Sapnap wanted to curse so loud but Dream had pulled him towards the other exit of the dining hall so there was no chance of them running into each other.
Karl approached the table, now with only George and Quackity sat a little bit uncomfortably, just in time as Dream and Sapnap exited.
"What's his fucking problem?" Karl wasn't usually this crass, or rude, or swore to the frank. But the stress-
"He hasn't slept. And neither have you," George said.
"I'm fine," Karl snapped.
"Sure," Quackity said. "He says as his hair is falling off and his sweater is inside out."
"You need sleep Karl," George's lip thinned in judgment. "If not for Sapnap's sanity, for your own goddamn health."
"I don't care about Sapnap's sanity-" Karl scoffed. "Auditions are tomorrow, god it's like you don't even want me to succeed." His words were mean and accusatory.
"Hey, I offered a way out," George replied venomously, not in the mood to take any of Karl's attitude. "You wanna run yourself to the ground, that's on you."
"I'm sorry," Karl sighed.
George's eyes were cold still as he glanced at Quackity who patted Karl in the back.
"I can't stop practicing," Karl began. "I'm not as good as Sapnap."
"Karl-" Quackity tried to comfort him.
"No, you know it's true," Karl said. "You all say the best cellist, best cellist, because you know if we were on the same field, Sapnap is better."
"That's not true, you both have your own strengths, you can't compare-" Quackity began his argument but Karl wasn't in a listening mood.
"He doesn't even practice that much!" Karl yelled, causing students casually eating in the dining hall to turn to him. "He doesn't even try- God, I hate him, I hate him-"
Quackity and George shared a look of pity. Though both of them could sympathize with the stress both of their friends are going through, they would be lying if they said they weren't counting down the seconds until the audition was finished.
And so, even though Dream, George, and Quackity didn't have to be anywhere close to the auditorium when the Julliard auditions were taking place, the three of them were standing backstage with Sapnap and then Karl.
Sapnap and Karl, were the two last auditions for the day, purposefully staged this way by their music teacher and advisor, Mrs. O'Connor, as two of her best students. As much as their friends like to hype them up, that fact is true regardless.
Sapnap was going first, all dressed up in a proper white shirt with a black tie, shirt neatly tucked in. Dream was fussing over him, as one mother-hen of a friend would, straightening up his tie and fixing his hair.
"Dream, stop, stop-" Sapnap swatted Dream's hand away.
"Okay, okay, okay-" Dream resigned and raised both his hands as he walked backward. "You'll do awesome, I believe in you, I love you brother-"
"I love you too, brother," And even though Sapnap sighed, a small smile formed on his face.
George gave him a similar smile and a scrunch of the nose, just to tease him a little, before nodding. All communicated very effectively without a single word. You'll do great, you annoying bastard.
Then Sapnap looked at Quackity, who gave him a thumbs-up, though not really giving Sapnap his full attention due to being a little preoccupied with Karl and his nervous breakdown. Sapnap understood though.
"Good luck," Quackity managed to say and Sapnap appreciated that as much.
"Wilder," Sapnap heard Mrs. O'Connor's voice echo through the empty auditorium calling him by his last name.
Lastly, Sapnap looked at Karl.
God, words don't even begin-
Karl looked back. A part of him knew they were friends or friends, and sportsmanship dictates you have to wish them good luck, break a leg, whatever. Some part of Karl wanted to say it, even though he might hurl should he open his mouth. But he didn't say a thing, eyes averting away after the bit of eye contact.
Sapnap wanted to roll his eyes, but Dream quickly pushed him on stage. Stumbling on the wooden floor, Sapnap quickly regained his balance before looking towards the 4 people currently sat in the audience.
His hand was getting sweaty as he gripped his bow a little tighter. Sitting from farthest left to right was Mrs. O'Connor, followed by Marianna Bianchi, world-renowned composer, followed by the infamous Gerhart Jönsson, front and center, then Alexis Mertens, one of the younger pianists that ever performed at the Sydney Opera House at the bright age of 14.
"Right," Sapnap heard his teacher introduces him. "Wilder is one of our best students, our best violinist- his talents with the violin will speak for itself."
"Wilder," Sapnap's last name rolled off Marianna's tongue, causing his nerves to pump his heart a lot faster. "You have a piece prepared?"
"Yes, I do," Sapnap's voice could not crack at a more inconvenient time.
"Saraste's Zigeunerwiesen," Jönsson read out. "That's a uniquely challenging piece." He was clearly skeptical.
"I'm aware," Sapnap said confidently. "That's why I chose it."
Mertens scoffed a little amused laughter, nodding slowly as he read through Sapnap's portfolio.
"I like him," Mertens hummed to Jönsson though received no reply back.
"He can do this," Mrs. O'Connor threw in her vote of confidence, nodding at Sapnap with a gleam.
"Alright then," Marianna nodded along. "Let's hear it."
If anyone is familiar with the piece that is called Zigeurnerwiesen, holy shit, was it really something to watch.
His friends had always known Sapnap was good, with pitch-perfect hearing, impeccable finger movements, swift and nimble, Sapnap was always good. But sometimes the word good doesn't describe it enough.
The first few notes of the piece were intense, hard, and sharp one after the other as Sapnap started to play, his eyes closed, not even needing to read the sheet music provided to him.
Fingers moving fast, moving even faster as he got a particularly tricky part not even 20 seconds into the song. Flawlessly executed. A pause, silence ringing through the hall.
Karl could feel his breath stop in his throat.
And then it continues, the same intense strokes, timed with immense precision, followed by the chord strokes, each melody moving with fire. Quickly followed by the high note progressions, only serving to show off even more of Sapnap's bleeding talent.
It wasn't only his fingers that moved. His entire body swayed, his torso turning towards the flow of the music, his face reacting to every single pull and every single sound. A smirk curved upon his face after completing a particularly hard section that was followed immediately with yet another pause.
"Holy fuck," Karl muttered.
The next section started out a lot calmer, Sapnap still moving his fingers instinctively rather than following memorized actions. Still, the piece was quick to throw him yet more challenges. Each one he performed with little to no faults.
The song goes on for 8-9 minutes, but Sapnap was asked to prepare a two-minute audition, so soon enough he was finished. He opened his eyes, and his first instinct, rather than look at the Julliard scouts, was to turn and look at his friends, standing side stage.
Dream genuinely looked like he was about to cry, though George looked prideful, nodding like he knew exactly what Sapnap was capable of. Quackity was gaping, as always, and Karl-
"That was-" Marianna said causing Sapnap to turn back to his audience.
"Good," Jönsson said.
"Good?" Mertens exclaimed incredulously. "That was insane, that was the best we've seen all day by miles."
"I could've done that when I was 12," Jönsson brushed off easily. "That was decent, though I agree, slightly better than what we've seen today."
"That was wonderful Wilder," Marianna said and Sapnap gave them a little bow.
"Thank you," Sapnap caught Mrs. O'Connor's proud face, her hand clasped in front of her.
"You've been playing since you were a kid?" Jönsson asked, eyes reading his little board now even facing up to look at a nodding Sapnap.
"Yes," Sapnap had to voice out his response, apparently.
"How old?" Jönsson mumbled as he scribbled down comments on his clipboard.
"Seven?" Sapnap answered with a little uncertainty.
"Well," Jönsson sneered. "That's a bit late, isn't it?"
Sapnap genuinely did not how to answer, though he guessed the snob was probably born with a violin. Mertens shook his head, looking at Sapnap, eyes widening as if to say Get a load of this guy, while Marianna gave her colleague a soft warning pat on the arm.
"The performance was good," Jönsson said. "Good. Not great, good," he reiterated.
"Come now Gerhart," Marianna tutted.
"You are some ways from being great," Sapnap couldn't even tell if he was getting complimented or insulted. "There is potential. You'll survive Julliard."
"I-" Sapnap was very confused. "Pardon?" His eyes flickered towards Mrs. O'Connor, practically bouncing in her seat.
"I'll see you in my class in the fall," Sapnap's admission was definitive coming from Jönsson's lips.
Sapnap stood there, stunned.
One string.
"You're in dude," Mertens said. "Welcome!"
"There's-" Sapnap stuttered turning quickly to his teacher for help.
"Right!" Mrs. O'Connor said brightly, clearly not understanding the vibe of the situation. "Wilder, if you could leave, we can get on with the last audition of the day,"
"Right," Sapnap muttered. "Thank you, thank you."
Sapnap's heart dropped to his stomach when he turned for the first time in a while to see his friend's faces, all mixed with confusion and pity. But the most gut-wrenching was the heartbroken look on Karl's face.
"Karl," Mrs. O'Connor called out.
Karl visibly gulped as Quackity brushed off his clothes and George fixed his hair. Karl and Sapnap were barely able to look at each other in the face. Soft whispers of Good luck, and you got this Karl, was repeated by Dream, George, and Quackity.
Karl picked up his cello case and headed towards the stage. But before he strolled out, Sapnap grabbed him by the arm, an impulsive decision really, and gave him a sincere smile, despite the situation.
"Good luck Jacobs," Sapnap mumbled, giving Karl the courtesy which Karl had not given him previously.
"Thanks," and with that, Karl left for the stage.
"Karl is one of our best cellists, one of our best students as is," Mrs. O'Connor said. "He played in our winter orchestra every year since he got to this school, he's amazing."
"Hello Karl," Marianna greeted.
"Hi," Karl replied nervously.
"You have a piece prepared for us?" Marianna asked and Karl nodded.
"Elgar's Cello Concerto," Jönsson read off of the paper. "A bit basic," he commented.
"Holy shit," Sapnap muttered as George tutted, shaking his head.
"Go on then," Mertens said with a nod. "Good luck."
Karl inhaled a deep breath before steadying himself, cello leaning against him as his hand hovered over the strings.
"His hand's fucking shaking," Sapnap murmured.
Two long bow strokes with a change little beat in between. The one stroke that flows into a string of melody, filling the concert hall with the deep tones of a cello.
Karl's fingers were shaking, that much remains true and Sapnap isn't blind.
The notes weren't pressed down as firmly and neither did the movement of the strokes. His pauses were a combination of too short and too long, the timing very offbeat. And as he continued on with the song, the performance seems to flail.
Sapnap took a step forward, looking out at Mrs. O'Connor's face, her eyebrows furrowed with concern as she, much like Sapnap, knew Karl could do so much better.
Mertens grimaced at a particularly off note while Marianna glanced fearfully at a stoic and un-entertained Jönsson.
"Right-" Jönsson interjected when Karl wasn't even halfway into his performance, one hand held up high to signal him to stop.
Karl stopped almost immediately, his entire body stiffened as he looked out towards the scouts. From the corner of his eyes, he could see his friends standing in absolute horror.
"Faulty entrance, choppy notes, your pauses are- just wrong," Karl's cheeks turned red almost instantly and the harsh words coming from the most fears scout. "Your strokes lack confidences, your notes are just-" Jönsson looked disgusted. "-sloppy and flat."
"-sorry," Karl mumbled as he quickly moved to place his cello back in the case.
"You could do with a little more practice, you're just having an off day," Mertens tried to be a little comforting.
"Maybe next year, Karl?" Marianna offered a last bit of hope.
Karl simply nodded hurriedly, muttering a barely audible Thank you, before rushing off the side stage to be met by his friends.
"Karl-" Quackity started, but Karl was already wiping his tear-stained face.
"Don't," Karl mumbled.
"Look, I-" George wanted to offer help, with all his privilege, but Karl continued to shake his head.
"No, no-" Karl said.
"I'm sorry," Dream said. "Karl, you did good-"
"No, I didn't," Karl was seething with rage all on his own. Disappointment, regret, you name it.
There was a silent exchange between Dream, Quackity, and George, all with an unspoken understanding that George could probably help sway their decision or at least give Karl a second chance. George was about to walk onto the stage when Sapnap finally spoke.
"This is bullshit," Sapnap piped up. "You're going back out there," He said sternly.
"Sapnap-" Karl didn't have the energy to fight.
"You are going back out there, and you are playing in front of the scouts again," Sapnap was about to walk onto the stage when Karl grabbed his arm and pulled him back.
"What is wrong with you? Do you just ravel in my failure? You just want me to be humiliated much longer than I already have," Karl said. "You won, just let me go." His words were cold, venomous.
Sapnap looked deep into Karl's eyes, starting to get swollen red from trying to hold back his tears, eye bags from not sleeping for the last week.
"This isn't a competition," Sapnap shook Karl's hand off and goes on to the stage.
"Oh m-" Karl could only scoff in hatred.
"Hey, real quick, with all due respect. Karl Jacobs is one of the most, if not the most talented cellist I've ever heard," Sapnap said, capturing the 3 Julliard scouts' attention as they were on their way out.
"Wilder-" Mrs. O'Connor spoke up, clearly seeing through the emotional outburst.
"No, listen, he's just tired," Sapnap said defensively. "He hasn't slept in a week, he's filled to the brim with coffee and Monster energy drinks, plus he's just absolutely scared shitless for your judgment."
"Irrelevant," Jönsson said. "Didn't affect you did it?"
Never has Sapnap been so angry at a compliment before.
"You said my audition was good, you liked my audition. I'm telling you, he's better," Sapnap insisted. "You should see the way his fingers move when he plays. He'd close his eyes and the music continues to flow, he doesn't need a music sheet or a metronome-"
"You trust him that much?" Mertens leaned forward, clearly intrigued by this unfolding situation.
"Whether or not you want to believe me-" Sapnap said, eyes glancing quickly at Karl, who was stunned silent jaw wide open, before looking back at the scouts. "-trying to be better than him is the only reason I'm as good as I am now."
"That's a high compliment Wilder," Marianna commented. "You're vouching for him?"
"It just wasn't his piece. That's why he was off beat and-" Sapnap tried to explain. "Let him play an original piece, please- there's this one that I hear him play at night, all the time."
Sapnap was talking as he jogged off stage, immediately grabbing Karl's wrist and pulling him onto the stage.
"No, no," Karl whispered, shaking his head furiously.
"I think you're gonna love it," Sapnap told the scouts, practically dragging Karl onto the stage.
"Sapnap, no," Karl hissed, swatting at Sapnap's grip on his wrist as he pulled Karl back onto the chair.
Suddenly the spotlight was back on Karl and his mind went blank. Karl didn't even have his things, Quackity quickly running onto the stage with Karl's cello case, opening it to bring out his instrument.
"Go on," Sapnap whispered softly. "You got this, you can do this." Sapnap was kneeling in front of Karl now, both his hands holding gently onto Karl's hands.
"I can't," Karl choked out.
"Yes you can," Sapnap said. "Of course you can."
"Sapnap-" Karl pleaded.
"Any day now Mr. Jacobs-" Jönsson's voice, cursed as always, caused Karl to squeeze Sapnap's hands instinctively.
Sapnap had never wanted to bite someone's head off before.
"Okay, wait, wait-" Sapnap said, running off stage to get his violin from Dream.
Quackity placed Karl's bow in his hand, leaned the cello against his thigh before running back off stage. Sapnap stood in front of him, his back facing the scouts, his violin on standby.
"Don't look at them, don't even look at me, you close your eyes," Sapnap said softly. "You know how to play this, you've only played this every night for the past 2 months driving me insane," he laughed light-heartedly. "How does it start?"
The question was purely rhetorical as Sapnap knew precisely the first three notes he had to draw to start the song. Of course, he did. He always listens to Karl playing.
The oh-so-familiar melody, though much higher now played on a violin, shook Karl to the bones. The song continued, the next few notes followed by a particularly long draw of the bow, then a mirror of the melody that slowly brings the tune to lower register. The next few notes were preparing for a transition, as Sapnap's finger attempted to do Karl's creation justice.
A pause, a little too long than what Karl had composed, but Sapnap did not want to continue without forcing Karl's hand to play his own masterpiece.
A slow pick-up, a soft draw to start the next portion of the song, slowly bringing the tune back up. Sapnap exhaled a little sigh of relief as he slowly stepped away, finally unblocking Karl from the scouts' view.
Not that it mattered though, Karl was playing, just as Sapnap said, with his eyes closed. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as he leaned into each and every note, focusing his entire energy on the performance of a lifetime.
Sapnap walked himself back, though his eyes never left Karl, he was gently caught by Dream who indicated that he could stop moving.
Sapnap hates to admit that he'd memorized Karl's entire piece, whether it was voluntarily or not, each vibrato played very softly, not because Karl wasn't confident with his strokes, but because it was purposely designed with emotion.
Sapnap scoffed a little bit of smile, finally taking his eyes off of Karl for a bit only to watch his friends' awestruck look on their faces. The song was enough to break your heart, had Sapnap not listened to it with the seething anger of the 4 AM practice.
The song definitely ran a little over three minutes, but it wasn't like anyone was going to stop Karl. Karl caught himself though, eventually, and wrapped up his performance, though Sapnap knew that wasn't the end of the song.
And when it was over, Karl opened his eyes to the harsh contrast of the blinding spotlight, unable to see the scouts clearly. He blinked rapidly, waiting for any kind of reaction.
"Your piece?" Mertens cleared his throat, asking the question like a pointless confirmation.
"Y-yes," Karl stuttered. "Yes sir."
"Right," The entire auditorium held their breath the second Jönsson began to speak. "Your performance was kinda sloppy still. A lot better than the first one but some notes were still shaky even if you kept tempo."
Sapnap was going to charge onto the stage, one foot already out though he was immediately held back by Dream and Quackity, each grabbing his arm.
"I'm starting to think maybe performing arts isn't the best choice for you," Jönsson continued. "With the obvious nerves and stage fright."
Before Sapnap could even move, George's hands were slapped across his face to shut him up. Sapnap's glare was burning even though Jönsson couldn't see him side stage. Sapnap glanced over at Karl and watched him visibly gulp.
"However," Marianna interjected. "You seem to have a talent for composing," She nudged her coworker. "I think the best fit for you will be our music writing program."
Sapnap felt his three friends loosen their grip on him in celebration. They all shared a look, glancing at each other in wait for further clarification.
"I'm-" Karl squeaked. "Really?"
"I want you in my class in the fall Mr. Jacobs," Marianna nodded.
Karl could see Mertens nodding along enthusiastically, while Jönsson- Jönsson was not protesting or criticizing, so that's about as good as a compliment as he's going to get.
"Congratulations," Mertens informed him. "Welcome to Julliard."
Karl turned to see his friends (and frenemy) celebrating in forced silence. Fists pumping into the air, Sapnap furiously shaking Quackity around, Dream whisper-shouting a Let's fucking go, and George jumping around. He quickly turned away as he was blushing hard, grinning from ear to ear as he bowed.
"Thank you, thank you," Karl breathed out, hurriedly packing his cello before running off stage to greet his friends.
"Let's fucking go!" Quackity yelled a little too loud, mimicking Dream's whispers.
"Alex-" Mrs. O'Connor called warningly as Quackity was shushed by everyone else.
"Sorry Mrs. O'Connor," Quackity peaked his head out to see their music teacher looking back at him, shaking her head slightly as she tried to lead the Julliard representatives out of the hall.
Once they heard the door close, they all turned back to their celebration.
"That was fucking good, that was fucking-" Dream said excitedly. "Karl, that was so awesome!" Dream rushed forward and pulled Karl into a hug.
"I told you," George laughed cheerfully. "You can finally sleep tonight."
"Thank you," Karl was still sobbing, just a little bit, wiping his face. He was laughing, hands covering his mouth as he looked around, eyes finally falling on Sapnap.
"Congrats," Sapnap smiled.
"Thanks," Karl said sheepishly.
Dream slowly walked backward, pulling Quackity and George with him, bickering with each other as they attempted to sneak out. Though Karl and Sapnap held each other's gaze, they definitely noticed and chuckled at their friends' antics. Dream had practically shoved his two friends out of the side stage and into the concert hall.
"God, I'm so glad I didn't have to say shit all to uncle Jöns," George exhaled in relief. "That was romantic, props to Sapnap."
"Oh it's happening, it's happening," Quackity giggled excitedly. "We'll pretend we don't know, we'll pretend-"
"He memorized the piece- we pretend?" Dream rolled his eyes incredulously though all very lighthearted towards his two friends. "Leave them, leave them."
And so Sapnap and Karl were left inside, alone as they should be.
"Thank you," Karl said again once all their friends left. "You didn't have to-" Karl gestured vaguely at the stage. "That was very nice of you, especially after I tortured you for this entire week."
"It wasn't really torture, per se," Sapnap shrugged. "I like listening to you play, just maybe not at 4 AM," Sapnap smirked.
"Noted," Karl laughed. "Still, you didn't really have to help me, and I really, really, appreciate-"
"Of course I had to," Sapnap cut off his statement, taking a step closer to Karl, closer to each other than ever. "I know what you can do, and everything I said is true. I can't imagine playing music without you pushing me to be better. Whether you're aware of it or not."
Karl's heart was beating fast, and he doubts it was because of the audition he'd just gone through. He felt a lump in his throat as he gazed over Sapnap's face, looking into his intensely passionate eyes before a little bit of him flickered to look at Sapnap's smirk.
Sapnap's lips.
"So uhm-" Sapnap continued. "Guess I'll be seeing you a lot next term huh?"
"Yeah I guess so," Karl said.
"I swear to god Jacobs if you live down the hallway again and keep me up at night I'm gonn-" Sapnap joked but he was immediately cut off by Karl leaning in and pressing their lips together.
It was short and sweet, a quick peck on the lips rather than a kiss. A little thank you from Karl to Sapnap because Karl couldn't think about any other way to express it. When Karl pulled away, Sapnap was silent, eyes examining Karl's face that was flushed red with embarrassment as he tried to step back.
Karl looked down, clearing his throat as he turned to look for his cello before he felt Sapnap's hand on his jaw, pulling his chin back towards Sapnap's face. You could only hear their heavy breaths as lips grazed each other, the gap between them almost non-existent though enough to build the tension in their stomach. Soft and slow, Sapnap pulled Karl in, his thumb on Karl's chin, tilting his face down as to deepen the kiss.
Lips melding into one another, both of them cracking into a smile. Karl's left hand found his way to the back of Sapnap's neck, fingers slipping into his hair, while his right hand settled nicely on the side of his neck. Sapnap's hand stayed on Karl's face though his other hand found its way to Karl's back, pulling him against his body, a burst of nervous giggle escaped in the midst of the kiss.
Karl's lips tasted like way too much coffee, though a hint of vanilla from Sapnap balanced it out quite nicely. They smelled of old books and sandalwood, peaceful and calm.
They kissed until they could no longer kiss, pulling away to take a breath, lips swollen red as they panted. Eyes looking into each other, bursting with admiration as Sapnap reached up to tuck Karl's hair, thumb caressing against his temple.
"If I buy you really expensive earplugs and soundproof my room, you wanna be roommates?" Karl offered jokingly, still trying to catch his breath.
Sapnap laughed, angelic as ever, and Karl had never felt so content. He'd much rather hear his rival laugh than anything else in the worlds
"Kiss me like that again and I'll let you keep me up all night," Sapnap said flirtatiously before stealing a quick kiss. "Though I have a feeling-" Sapnap continued in between kisses. "We won't be needing-" Sapnap now moved and left a trail of kisses from the corner of Karl's lips. "-two bedrooms." And ended by Karl's ears.
"Won't be needing two bedrooms?" Karl's ear was hot for more than one reason as he repeated Sapnap's words.
"Nope," Sapnap said, leaving one last kiss before pulling away. "So we can make one completely soundproof."
"Only one?" Karl asked mischievously raising his eyebrows. The source of his burst of confidence was unknown to himself.
"Or both," Sapnap responded just as quickly, biting his lips suggestively. "Both is good."
"Out of pocket," Karl said while softly shoving Sapnap off of him.
"You started it," Sapnap took Karl's hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of his palm. "Now, let's go to bed." He entwined his finger with Karl's, holding his hand tightly by his side.
"Well, you're eager," Karl snarked though he picked up his cello case and allowed himself to be led by Sapnap out of the stage door.
"Bed," Sapnap said intensely. "I haven't slept in a week, and neither have you. Jesus Christ, Karl," he rolled his eyes defensively.
"Karl?" The sound of his own first name had never made his own stomach flutter with endless butterflies. No longer was he Jacobs. Karl. And it could not have sounded sweeter.
"What else would I call you?" Sapnap asked as the two walked back to their rooms, hand in hand.
"Handsome," Karl joked.
"Yeah, but we both know that-" The two conversed lightly.
"Baby," Karl continued and Sapnap simply scrunched up his nose. "My angel," He continued sarcastically.
"My angel?" Sapnap tested out.
"Annoying neighbor," Karl suggested.
"Soon-to-be annoying roommate," Sapnap responded.
"Oh I know-" Karl grinned. "Yours."
"Mine?" Sapnap said, looking at his rival turned- turned his.
"Yours." Karl nodded, looking back confidently at Sapnap.
"Mine," He said once more, leaning in to kiss Karl one more time. "Works for me."