Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, staring at my laptop screen in disbelief.
The email from the Montana Philharmonic Fellowship committee had arrived just moments ago, and its contents had turned my carefully planned audition strategy upside down.
Dear Ms. Tinsley,
We are pleased to confirm your upcoming audition for the Montana Philharmonic Summer Fellowship Program.
In addition to your prepared classical selection, the committee has decided to require all candidates to perform a contemporary piece (composed after 1980) that showcases versatility and modern interpretation skills.
This addition reflects the Philharmonic’s new community outreach initiative aimed at engaging younger audiences. Your contemporary selection should be 3-5 minutes in length and demonstrate technical proficiency while highlighting stylistic range.
We look forward to hearing your selections.
Sincerely,
Eleanor Beckman
Fellowship Committee Chair
I slammed my laptop closed and groaned. Three weeks until my audition, and now I needed to not only perfect my Bach Chaconne but also learn and master a contemporary piece I hadn’t even chosen yet.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel asked, pausing in the doorway to my bedroom with a mug of tea in her hand.
“The Philharmonic just changed the audition requirements,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “They’re adding a contemporary piece requirement to ‘engage younger audiences.’”
Rachel winced. “Ouch. How much time do you have?”
“Three weeks.” I stood and began pacing. “The same three weeks I was planning to use perfecting my Bach. Now I have to split my practice time and learn something completely new.”
“What are you thinking of playing?”
I shook my head. “I have no idea. I don’t really specialize in contemporary.”
That was an understatement. I’d always gravitated toward the classics when it came to violin—Bach, Mozart, Tchaikovsky. Contemporary music was fun sometimes, but I didn’t have very many pieces in my repertoire and certainly none that would be impressive enough to get the fellowship.
Rachel set her mug down on my desk and gave me a thoughtful look. “What about that Philip Glass piece you were messing around with last semester? The one from that movie soundtrack?”
“That’s not technically demanding enough,” I said, shaking my head. “They specifically mentioned technical proficiency.”
“Jennifer Higdon?”
“Too experimental for my taste.” I flopped back onto my bed. “I need something that shows range but doesn’t sound like I’m just making noise.”
“Ayanna might have some ideas. She was working on some contemporary stuff for one of her classes.” Rachel glanced at her watch. “And speaking of Ayanna, we’re supposed to meet her and Talia for lunch in twenty minutes.”
I groaned. “I can’t. I need to figure this out and start practicing immediately.”
“Harper,” Rachel said firmly, “you need to eat. And Ayanna might be helpful with this. She loves contemporary stuff. One meal won’t derail your audition.”
She was right, of course. Rachel was always right about these things. With a reluctant nod, I grabbed my jacket and followed her downstairs.
Lunch with my roommates would normally have been exactly what I needed, but today I couldn’t focus on anything but the looming challenge of my revised audition. Ayanna had suggested several pieces, none of which felt right. They were too flashy, too abstract, too technically simple, or too obscure.
“You need to stop overthinking this,” Talia said, stealing a fry from my barely touched plate. “Pick something that speaks to you, not what you think the judges want to hear.”
“But that’s exactly the problem,” I argued. “I enjoy contemporary music, but I’ve spent years perfecting classical pieces. I don’t have anything in my repertoire that’s both contemporary and polished enough for this level of audition.”
“What about Joel Sunny or Max Richter?” Ayanna suggested. “Joel’s style is really connecting with younger audiences these days. I see him recommended all over my Spotify account.”
“Or Lindsey Stirling,” Talia added. “Imagine doing one of her crossover pieces. That would definitely catch the committee’s attention if they’re trying to reach Gen Z.”
They were good suggestions, but it still left me with the monumental task of selecting and mastering a completely new piece in three weeks, all while not neglecting my Bach.
My phone buzzed with a text just as we were finishing lunch.
Andy
Emergency. Any chance you could watch Rory for an hour? I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.
I stared at the message. A month ago, I would have laughed at the idea of him of all people asking me for a favor. Now, I found myself typing back before I could overthink it.
Me
Be there in 15
“I’ve got to go,” I told my roommates, gathering my things. “Drew needs help with Rory.”
The knowing looks they exchanged made me roll my eyes. “Don’t start. He has an emergency.”
“Uh-huh,” Talia said with a grin. “And you’re just being neighborly.”
“Exactly,” I said, ignoring the heat creeping into my cheeks. “See you guys later.”
The walk to the hockey house gave me time to clear my head, the crisp early spring air helping to ease some of the tension that had built up since reading that email. By the time I knocked on Drew’s door, I’d managed to push my audition worries to the back of my mind—temporarily, at least.
Drew answered on the first knock, looking frazzled. “Thank you so much. I owe you huge. You’re seriously saving my ass here.” Relief was evident in his voice.
“It’s fine.”
“Gordy’s helping Sam set up a venue for some sorority thing this weekend, and neither Liam nor Ava are answering their phones. I completely spaced about my lab practical for my kinesiology class that I can’t miss.”
“Drew. Seriously, it’s fine,” I assured him, stepping inside. “Where’s the little tyrant?”
Drew’s mouth quirked into a half-smile. “In her swing. She just ate, so she should be good for a while. There are bottles on the counter next to the formula if she gets hungry, and—”
“I’ve got this,” I interrupted gently. “Go to your lab.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “I won’t be more than an hour. Thank you, Harper. Seriously.”
After he left, I found Rory contentedly watching the mobile above her swing. “Hey there, sweet girl,” I said, kneeling down beside her. “Looks like it’s just us for a while.”
She gurgled in response, a tiny fist waving in the air. Man, this kid was too cute for her own good.
“Want to help me figure out what contemporary piece I should play for my audition?” I asked her, settling on the couch near her swing. “The committee just added a new requirement and threw me for a loop.”
Rory blinked at me, which I chose to interpret as interest.
“See, I’ve spent years perfecting classical pieces like Bach and Mozart—that’s my wheelhouse.
I enjoy contemporary music, but I’ve never prepared anything at the level they’re expecting for this fellowship,” I explained to Rory as if she understood my dilemma.
“I need something that’ll impress them but that I can actually master in three weeks. ”
I pulled out my phone and started searching for contemporary violin pieces, scrolling through videos and listening to snippets while Rory watched her mobile with complete fascination.
I liked several of them, but nothing felt right for this audition—either too demanding to master in three weeks or not impressive enough to stand out among the other candidates.
After about twenty minutes of searching, Rory started to get fussy. I set my phone aside and lifted her from the swing, cradling her against my chest.
“You’re not loving any of those either, huh?” I said, gently bouncing her. I let out a sigh. “We’ll figure something out.”
I began humming absently as I walked around the living room with her, a melody that had been floating in my head for days.
It wasn’t classical—more of a folk-inspired tune with modern harmonies that I’d been playing around with on my guitar during practice breaks.
It was just something that had come to me naturally.
Rory settled against me, her eyes growing heavy. I continued humming, adding variations to the melody as I paced, and before long, she was fast asleep.
I was on my fourth or fifth lap around Drew’s living room when the idea sparked in my head like a wildfire.
What if I played my own composition for the contemporary piece?
The idea was terrifying—I’d never performed my own music publicly—but it would certainly showcase a different side of my musicality.
I’d been composing this one on my guitar, but I could make it work for violin.
The thought was both exhilarating and panic-inducing. I’d have to not only prepare a piece but fully compose and refine it. But maybe that was exactly the kind of risk I needed to take.
The more I considered it, the more the idea of composing my own piece appealed to me. I settled back into the couch with Rory still nestled against me, her tiny body warm and comforting. Her breathing was soft and steady against my chest as she slept.
I hummed the melody again, imagining how it would sound with different techniques.
My thoughts drifted between musical phrases and arrangement possibilities as the quiet of the house and the rhythmic sound of Rory’s breathing lulled me into a state of calm.
The weight of the sleeping baby against me was surprisingly soothing.
I closed my eyes, just to visualize the structure of the piece more clearly…
The sensation of being watched pulled me from sleep. I blinked my eyes open slowly to find Drew standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. How long had he been standing there? Rory was still sleeping soundly against my chest so I couldn’t have been out that long.
“Hey,” I said softly, my voice rough with sleep. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off.”
Drew didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he continued to look at me with that strange expression, and the moment stretched between us, charged with unspoken emotions I was too chicken to acknowledge.
“It’s okay,” he finally said, his voice slightly raspy and just above a whisper. “You looked peaceful.”
The way he said it made me feel suddenly vulnerable, as if he’d glimpsed something private. I carefully shifted Rory in my arms, trying to tame my hair with my free hand, aware of the warmth creeping into my cheeks.
“How was your lab?” I asked, desperate to break the strange tension.
Drew seemed to snap out of whatever trance he’d been in. “Great. I passed.”
“That’s awesome.” I gently transferred the sleeping Rory to Drew’s arms. “She was perfect. Got a little fussy at first, but then fell right to sleep.”
Drew cradled his daughter in his arms, looking down at her like she was pure magic in his world. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice. I know you probably have a lot going on with your audition coming up.”
I hesitated, surprised he remembered. “Actually, they just changed the requirements. Now I have to prepare a contemporary piece too, which is not my forte.”
“Seriously? This close to the audition date?” Drew frowned. “That’s rough.”
“Yeah, well…I think I might try something different.” I bent to pick up my bag. “I’m considering composing something myself.”
Drew’s eyebrows shot up. “You compose?”
“Sort of. Nothing formal, just ideas.” I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “It’s probably a terrible plan.”
“I don’t think so,” he said thoughtfully. “If anyone could pull it off, it’s you.”
The simple vote of confidence caught me off guard. “Thanks,” I said, unsure how to respond. I was still adjusting to his support instead of his derision.
I headed toward the door to leave. “I should go. Lots of work to do now.”
Drew stopped me just as I opened the door. “Harper?”
I paused, looking back at him. “Yeah?”
“If you want someone to listen to your piece when it’s ready—you know, before the audition—I’m available.”
The offer surprised me. Could I trust him with something that felt so personal? I guess if he could trust me with his daughter, I could trust him with this. “I might take you up on that.”