Chapter Text
The hall is buzzing with excitement. People rush around fetching instruments and stands and music and all sorts of things. There's a steady thrum of anticipation that everyone can feel, and it makes sense.
After all, it isn't every day that the best - mostly classical - musicians of North America are all gathered in the same place for a huge competition. To finally see who's best, some say. Others are just there to have fun and listen to good music. That's what Cecil is here for. Fun and music. He's also just saying that because he saw Annabeth freaking Chase earlier, and there's no way he's winning this competition against the likes of her. The ones who build themselves from the ground up are always the best, and there's no pianist better than her.
Of course, there are some strong contenders. Luke Castellan is a pretty strong contender. So was Bianca di Angelo, back before her accident.
Long story short, Cecil doesn't stand a chance. Still, he has hopes. At least Cecil doesn't have to compete with the likes of Hazel Levesque or Percy Jackson, who play different instruments and are therefore in different categories. Now, them? Them, Cecil has no hopes against. Not just because he doesn't know how to play their instruments and would be entirely out of his depth, but also because they're this generation's equivalent of musical prodigies without the genius. Their skill and talent is all from years and years of practice and acquired skill.
Then again, so are most people here. Sure, he can recognize a few faces in the crowd from various pieces of news in the music world about child prodigies and musicians who don't need to put any effort in to win competitions, but they rarely ever get this far in competitions. After a certain point, practice is still needed.
Cecil fidgets with his sheet music. He's got his piece memorized - as every soloist in the room does - but he's still nervous about forgetting something. The repeats are always difficult for him to remember.
The pianists go first in this competition today. Whichever five (out of roughly three dozen) pianists win this will go on to compete with other musicians on other instruments. Some ensembles will be formed between all of them. In general, it's very stressful. Sounds nice, though.
The buzzing and chattering quiets down as the last few people take their seats and a man steps onto the stage. “Good morning, everyone, and thank you all for coming! My name is Dionysus - but you can call me Mr. D - and I am the official MC for this entire event. So, without further ado, welcome to the first round of the fourth Olympus Music Festival, which happens once every ten years and I'm very happy to be a part of! The first category is the pianists, and we have Luke Castellan up first, playing-” then he rattles off the absurdly long name of a piece Cecil doesn't recognize.
Luke Castellan walks up to the grand piano below the stage and bows before sitting. Everyone applauds, as is custom to do. Cecil looks around at the pocket of silence near him, only a little surprised to see Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and Nico di Angelo sitting stony-faced, hands unmoving in their laps. They're all rather popular musicians, and everyone who follows music-related news heard about the massive scandal involving the three of them, Luke, and some others a few years back. Luke - who had been Percy's accompanist at the time - was found out to be physically and financially abusing his at-the-time girlfriend (Silena Beauregard, who's competing today as a vocalist), got fired by Percy for it, then somehow caused the tragic accident involving Bianca di Angelo - Nico's older sister and Percy's previous accompanist after Luke - as “revenge”.
Cecil isn't very clear on the details, but he doesn't blame the three musicians for not clapping like everyone else.
Luke's performance isn't particularly impressive. It's nice, and has some fancy note patterns, but nothing special, even if the audience claps like it is. Everyone in this room who isn't a pianist or adjudicator probably finds it incredible. Personally, Cecil finds it underwhelming for such a well-known musician. Then again, he isn't sure he can do much better, so maybe he shouldn't be saying anything.
Then it's Annabeth's turn, because they're going in alphabetical order. The clapping lasts a lot longer and is noticeably louder. The whole room waits with bated breath for her to begin, but everyone's still caught off guard by the abrupt first notes and dramatic decrescendo into the first few bars. It's powerful, and even on an instrument that isn't particularly known for being good at dynamics, Annabeth makes the changes in volume and tone sound beautiful.
The audience is so stunned by the song that when Annabeth finishes, there's dead silence for a few seconds before the - extremely enthusiastic - applause begins and she bows.
Yeah, Cecil really can't compete with the likes of them. They're barely even older than him, Annabeth and Percy both being only a year older. Luke's a bit older, being eight years older than Cecil - 28. Cecil's only twenty. Although he's a similar age to most people here, he's hardly experienced.
Several more people go. Cecil doesn't recognize them, hasn't competed against them before or anything. They're good, skilled, but none nearly as skilled as Annabeth. Then it's-
“Up next, we have Cecil Markowitz, playing Rondo-Toccata, op 60, no.4, by Kabalevsky,” Mr. D announces. Cecil stands up hurriedly, setting down his creased sheet music and hurrying up to the piano. He forgot to grab a program earlier, so he had no idea who he was playing after.
He bows quickly, wiping his hands on his pants. The applause is encouraging. Sitting down quickly, Cecil wipes his hands again, waits for the applause to subside, accidentally makes eye contact with an adjudicator, and then starts.
Cecil doesn't miss a single note.
There's a loud wolf whistle during the applause after his performance. Looking around at the seated audience, he finds his friend Lou Ellen grinning at him. Cecil doesn't hesitate to go and sit next to her.
“Good job!” she exclaims. Cecil grins back at her. This day might not turn out too awkward, after all. “Thanks. I didn't know you'd be here. Are you competing?”
Lou Ellen winks dramatically. “Hell yeah I am. I wouldn't if Will didn't make me sign up, though.” She gestures at the person next to them, holding her viola and bow with one hand.
The person - Will - looks over and sticks out a freckled hand. “Hey! Great job on your performance. I'm Will Solace, nice to meet ya.” He's got a bit of a southern accent that slants his vowels, but it's barely noticeable.
Cecil shakes his hand. “Cecil Markowitz. What instrument do you play?”
“Piano, same as you,” Will replies with a grin. “Probably won't beat you in scoring, though. You're good.” Face heating at the casual praise - which is new, nobody ever says that to him - Cecil hopes he isn't as red as he feels. Luckily, even if he is, Will doesn't comment on it and they both turn back to watch the next performer.
It's a pale blond guy, with an expression that implies he's trying not to scowl. “That's August Octavian,” mutters Will. The applause is minimal and mostly polite. Cecil guesses nobody likes Octavian very much, for whatever reason.
The performance is fine. It's full of unnecessary flourishes and several wrong notes that every musician in the audience cringes at, but it doesn't suck. Which might be the only thing Octavian has currently going for him. The adjudicators don't comment on it, though they're probably noting it down.
Two more pianists that Cecil doesn't know perform. One of the pieces is familiar - Fur Elise. Although it's a little too simple for such a huge competition, it does sound really good.
“Next, William Solace, playing-” Cecil doesn't recognize this piece, either.
“Wish me luck,” Will whispers, standing up to head towards the stage. Cecil opens his mouth to do just that, but Will has already left the pew. “Good luck,” Cecil replies to empty air. And Lou Ellen.
The piece starts sweetly. It's actually a very nice piece, one that brings to mind citrus and caramels and sunlight. Actually, it reminds Cecil of gardening with his mom when he was younger. Up ahead, Will looks extremely focused but is somehow still smiling. A difficult feat, especially among musicians.
“It sounds like magic tricks before the trick is revealed,” comments Lou Ellen.
All around them, people are murmuring to the people next to them about the piece. A steady hum of quiet chatter is rising, and the music rises with it. It's a beautiful piece. The applause at the end is raucous, and Cecil thinks Will might have a chance at beating Annabeth.
The next person isn't nearly as good. Lou Ellen expresses a vague sense of pity that they're playing right after such a good performance, that the audience is comparing them to Will and probably finds then lacking. Cecil agrees wholeheartedly.
“You played really well!” he whispers when Will retakes his seat. “I think you might even match up to Annabeth Chase.” The blond pianist shakes his head. “Annabeth’s got way more technical skill. I'm still hoping to place second or third, though.”
Finally, the last pianist on the program steps up to play. Frank Zhang, his name is.
Cecil wonders whether it gets tiring to always be at the end of alphabetically-ordered-by-last-name lists. Frank plays well, hitting the right keys exactly when they're supposed to be hit. He plays perfectly, but without much emotion or particular emphasis on any notes.
After this, the adjudicators discuss among themselves for a bit. At one point, two of them seem to get into an argument, but that quickly gets shut down with a few stern words from Mr. D. About five minutes later, the smallest one of them stands up holding a clipboard to face the audience. Hestia, her name tag reads.
“Hello, everyone, and thank you all for being here. I'm very excited to announce the winners of the piano category in this music festival.” There's a slight lilt to her words, a mild accent softening her consonants and rounding out her vowels. “If your name is called, please come up to the adjudicators' table to receive your certificate and score.”
She pauses, sweeping her gaze over where most of the pianists are sitting. Cecil allows a tiny amount of hope to swell in his chest. There's five winners who will move on to the next round, and Cecil wasn't the worst performer.
“As second runner-up, we have Luke Castellan!” That makes sense. Luke was good, but not perfect, and certainly not as skilled as Will or Annabeth. Luke stands up and heads toward the adjudicators table to collect his certificate and score. He's scowling slightly.
“First runner-up, Frank Zhang!” Frank looks extremely surprised at winning anything. The girl next to him pats him on the back when he stands up. That's both runner-ups, which means Cecil no longer has a chance of winning anything. He's decent at piano, but not that good.
“In third place - and with a hundred-dollar prize - Cecil Markowitz!”
Wait, what. Cecil turns to Lou Ellen and Will to make sure he didn't mishear that. Then again, Cecil Markowitz is a pretty hard name to mishear, but he could have hallucinated that. He's faced with an encouraging grin from Will and a really wide smile from Lou Ellen. “You deserve this. Now get up,” she tells him.
Cecil gets up. Then goes to the front, where the adjudicators are. A grey-eyed woman with her hair tied in a bun and a name tag that reads Athena hands him the adjudicators’ note sheet, certificate, and cheque for a hundred dollars. At the bottom of the page, there's a number written in red ink. 94. Hell yeah.
“Good job up there,” another adjudicator with blond hair and tan skin congratulates, giving him a medal tied on a green ribbon. According to his crooked name tag, his name is Lester. Cecil gives a half smile back, then hurries back to his seat.
The last two is pretty much just between Will and Annabeth Chase. Technically, anyone who hasn't already won something could be in first or second place, but it's kinda obvious it's Will and Annabeth. The real question is who got second and who got first.
“In second place by half a mark, and a three-hundred dollar prize… Will Solace!” The applause is raucous, combined with Lou Ellen's wolf whistle and Cecil's “YEAH!!” of excitement.
Will goes up, receives his stuff, and comes back looking amazed. “I didn't expect to win,” he starts, and keeps going before either of them can interrupt. “I didn't expect to win, but look -” he brandishes his mark sheet at them. “I got 98.5. That means Annabeth got 99, which is really impressive considering Athena's the adjudicator. She doesn't ever give hundreds, and ninety-nine is almost impossible.”
Cecil gawks at the paper. “You got a 98.5?? I got a ninety-four-”
“And that's also a really good mark you should be proud of,” Lou Ellen butts in. “Oh, Will, can I see your medal? Actually, you too, Cecil-”
They forgo the topic in favour of comparing medals. Since the next category doesn't concern any of them or anyone they'd like to watch, they slip outside to talk freely. And order food from McDonald's, because none of them had the chance to eat breakfast this morning before coming here.
Will orders on his phone for the three of them, then asks if they want to all go pick up the food.
“Sure,” Cecil says. “How much do I owe you?”
His new friend waves a hand dismissively. “Nothing, consider it a gift,” Will responds, heading towards a beat-up grey Toyota.
Cecil still slips a twenty into his pocket when he isn't paying attention.