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  • An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 06

An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 06

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Ch. 06 song titles

The Firebird, Finale (Stravinsky)

Concerto for Trumpet in E-flat, Movement III (Hummel)

The Trumpet Shall Sound (Handel)

Petrushka, Ballerina Trumpet Solo (Stravinsky)

Pictures at an Exhibition, Movement I (Mussorgsky)

Symphony No. 5, Movement I opening (Mahler)

Pines of Rome, Movement II trumpet solo (Respighi)

Shut Up and Dance (Walk the Moon)

Have You Ever Seen the Rain? (Creedence Clearwater Revival)

An Unforgettable Melody Ch. 06

Melody awoke around 9:45 on Friday morning. Based on Mike's wish the night before, she was able to tell that waking him at 10:00 would allow him the perfect amount of rest, while still giving him plenty of time for an unhurried morning routine before heading to work. She lay in bed a few minutes more, gently stretching her body awake. As the clock hit 9:55, she began the task of awakening him in such a way that would perfectly relax him for the day ahead, which, according to his subconscious, was a handjob. Conjuring up a bottle of lube, she prepared her hands and quietly exposed his morning wood.

Kneeling beside him on their huge bed, she began gently massaging the underside of his cock, spreading the thick lube over his length. Once he was properly slick, she then wrapped him in her hand, stroking him at a slow to moderate pace with a perfect amount of pressure applied. As his breathing deepened, indicating his enjoyment, she then deployed part two of her plan.

Gazing at his alarm clock, she flashed her eyes and started up one of his favorite pieces of music, the finale to The Firebird. The music began ever so softly, the horns entering at barely a whisper. Through his subconscious, she knew exactly where the first big climax of the piece was, resolving to bring him to orgasm right at that moment. Varying her strokes perfectly, she increased her pace and applied just the right amount of pressure, all while keeping him asleep.

As she stroked, she used her powers to gradually build his orgasm within him, releasing his eruption just as the music changed to final up-tempo section. Mike moaned in pleasure, his cum spewing from his cock and coating his abdomen as he slowly awoke. Now empty of his seed, Melody gently laid on her stomach on top of him, savoring his cum as he began rubbing his eyes awake.

"Geez, girl. When I make a wish, you sure as hell deliver," he said sleepily.

Licking the last of his cum from his stomach, she giggled and sweetly kissed his belly button. "Sleep well?"

"Absolutely," he marveled, sitting up in bed.

"Excellent. It's 10:00, so that gives you plenty of time for a relaxing shower, a leisurely warm-up, and some lunch and mental preparation before we head downtown for your audition."

Kissing her sweetly as she crawled over his body to his face, he said, "You just think of everything."

Showering alone for once, Mike whistled through all the audition pieces as he shaved and cleaned up, occasionally moving his hands to the proper fingerings to make sure he had everything down. Exiting the shower and drying off, he combed his hair before looking through his closet, deciding on the appropriate audition attire. As this was basically a job interview, complete with his hero in attendance, Mike wanted to ensure he made a good impression. Deciding on a deep red wine dress shirt and a nice pair of dark blue jeans, he then slipped on his brown loafers and a belt to complete the ensemble.

Letting Melody know that he was done, he watched her shapely ass bounce as she strutted to the shower, seductively glancing over her shoulder before closing the door to the bathroom. He walked out to his practice studio, unpacking his C trumpet and warming up slowly, adjusting himself to each note he played as if he were entering a swimming pool one step at a time. After finishing his scales, breathing exercises, and acrobatic warm-ups, he returned to their bedroom to find Melody posing in front of the floor mirror, magically trying on different outfit combinations for the day.

With her lover back in the room, Melody now began modeling her outfit ideas for Mike. Several of these were hardly appropriate to see the light of the outside world, being little more than lingerie. Finally deciding on a pair of form-fitting black shorts and a tight canary yellow tank top, the latter of which accentuated her incredible cleavage beautifully, Melody completed her outfit with a pair of red casual sneakers. As Mike whistled his approval, she drew him close and kissed him sensually, moaning in delight.

"You don't look so bad yourself," she commented.

After a playful slap on her ass, the duo headed to the kitchen to scrounge for food. Mike opted for a simple turkey sandwich on wheat bread and a bottle of water, his traditional pre-audition meal. Melody made herself a peanut butter and banana sandwich. As they ate, Mike played around on his iPad, listening to his audition music all the while. Melody worked on his laptop, tweaking the photos of her website slightly to try and attract more clients. As the time neared 1:30, Mike packed up his equipment and music and the pair began the drive downtown to symphony hall.

Arriving in the employee parking deck a few minutes past 2:00, Melody turned to him and asked, "Can I come in with you to the audition? Invisibly, of course."

"Sure," Mike replied, shrugging. "Just no distractions. I'm in the zone, after all."

"Absolutely." A quick, sweet kiss on his cheek, and she vanished. Good luck baby. You'll do brilliantly.

Walking into symphony hall, Mike made his way to the green room, designated as the warm-up area for the candidates auditioning. Alone with his thoughts, just as he liked it, Mike unpacked his music and the three trumpets he would need for the audition. Before beginning to play, he recited his typical prayer before such situations: Alan Shepard's prayer.

"Oh, Lord, please do not let me screw up. Amen."

He began by playing some easy scales on each horn, keeping warm air flowing through each of them so as to keep the metal inside at an optimal temperature. Continuing his slow, easy warm-ups until the audition time neared, he was soon greeted by Janice, the music librarian for the ASO.

"Mike, good to see you. The audition panel is ready for you. I'll help you bring your equipment in, if you like," she said warmly.

"Thanks, Janice. That'll be great. You can take my music and C trumpet; I'll grab the E-flat and piccolo." Normally, Mike didn't trust anyone other than himself to carry his equipment, but Janice was a French horn player, and also had training as an instrument repair technician. He knew she could be trusted to handle with care.

Entering the main stage in symphony hall, Mike set his equipment down on a table just off-center stage and turned to greet the panel, seated near the backstage line. The trio rose to greet him. First was Jessica Miller, the principal violinist and concertmaster. Her elegant beauty always struck Mike, with her full lips, lightly tanned white skin, and flowing brown hair. Her true beauty, however, shone through every time she played. Never in his life had Mike seen such joy and passion in the face or mannerisms of any musician like he did in Jessica. He could watch her with no sound whatsoever and still be completely entranced. Though she was only a year older than Mike, Jessica had been a musical prodigy since elementary school, winning her first symphony job two months before her high school graduation, and had been the Maestro's second-in-command for nearly five years now.

Maestro Robert Spano was next, extending his hand in welcome. The balding man in his mid-fifties was typically quite introverted, but always got very excited when it came to auditions. He relished the opportunity to evaluate talent, and was constantly imagining which pieces in the orchestral repertoire would sound perfect with a certain player's sound. He shook Mike's hand firmly, and turned to introduce him to the third panelist.

Philip Smith greeted Mike with his trademark warm personality. His soft-spoken demeanor belied the immense talent and musicianship that lay beneath; Mike knew he was in the presence of a living legend.

Focus, Braxton. He's just a man, after all.

Though he was now in his mid-sixties, Philip never passed up an opportunity to further his skills and better himself. A year previous, he surprisingly resigned his job as principal trumpet of the New York Philharmonic, easily the best orchestra in the nation, to become a college professor at the University of Georgia. His reasons were simple: To spend more time with his family, assist the next generation of musicians on a more personal level, and to reconnect with God. In a move that reporters had hailed as cowardly and meaningless, Mike had gained more respect for the man than in any musical performance he could ever give.

"Mike, welcome," Philip said. "For this audition, we will begin with the concerto you have prepared before moving into the orchestral excerpts. Following that, we will do a short interview with you to close out. Are we ready?"

"Completely," Mike said, adding just the right amount of confidence to his voice.

Picking up his E-flat trumpet, Mike began his solo concerto, Johann Hummel's Trumpet Concerto in E-flat, Movement III. The quick, lively finale had always been a favorite of Mike's, the notes dancing over a comfortable range on the horn. Reaching the final strain, which featured a long, extended trill, Mike shaped the note beautifully, causing Robert to lean over and whisper to Jessica in approval, to which she smiled widely.

Raising his eyebrows as Mike finished, Philip simply said, "You sound like you could be shaken out of a sound sleep and still play that thing beautifully."

"You're not far wrong," Mike replied casually.

"I'm the same way. Anyway, let's move on to the excerpts. Of the five you have prepared, we will allow you to pick the first and last ones you play; the order of the other three will be chosen by us. What shall we start with?" Philip asked.

Wanting to play his piccolo trumpet before it got cold, Mike began with Handel's The Trumpet Shall Sound. He couldn't help but marvel in irony and nostalgia, as this was the piece that had begun his journey with Melody a week ago. Pushing those thoughts from his mind, he focused completely on his style and expression as he began to play. Though the notes were not difficult, they required great precision and the right tone quality to blend properly when played with a full orchestra, which is exactly why the panel wanted to hear this piece.

After he had finished, Mike switched over to his standard C trumpet, and Jessica called out the next excerpt: the Petrushka Ballerina solo. Regaining the ironclad focus he discovered from his preparation yesterday, he danced through the music as gracefully as the ballerina it depicted. All the while, he made sure to keep his tempo rock solid, as this was the most common mistake trumpet players made in this piece: speeding up or slowing down without realizing it.

Robert chose Mike's next challenge: Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. The opening solo to the piece began with nothing but the trumpet, testing not only the nerves of the player, but also their consistency, as his tempo set the pace for the entire orchestra two measures later. Playing with a pompous elegance, Mike's performance was effortless, jumping from low to high notes as if they were nothing.

After a moment of silence for his sound to finish reverberating through the hall, Philip named the penultimate excerpt: the opening to Mahler's Symphony No. 5. Considered by professionals to be the most important solo in all of trumpet music, this piece combined elements from every excerpt Mike had played thus far: the necessary style and blending of Handel, the varying volume and ranges of Stravinsky, and the nerves of a complete solo trumpet from Mussorgsky. Beginning the funeral dirge at barely a whisper, he masterfully built the music up to the startling climax, fully engulfed in the orchestra playing in his mind as he did so. Finally closing the solo with a return to the trumpet's lower range, his sound elegantly faded into nothingness.

At last, they had arrived at the final excerpt, and Mike's ace in the hole: the second movement solo from Respighi's Pines of Rome. Mike stepped away from the music stand before beginning; he had no need for it. Closing his eyes, he lost himself completely in the soothing, lyrical solo, clearly picturing Melody in his mind as he played. Her deep red hair, emerald eyes, and intoxicating laugh were all the inspiration he needed to paint a true masterpiece for the panel. As he finished the haunting melody, the panel sat in wonderment for several seconds, fully appreciating everything they had just heard. They said nothing, but it was clear from Philip's eyes and Jessica's smile that he had delivered a rare performance for them that day.

Moving into the interview portion, Jessica started by presenting Mike with a scenario in which egos in the section were creating drama and disagreement, asking how he would handle his colleagues in this situation. He replied that he would sit down with the section in a roundtable discussion, emphasizing that they are professionals, each hired to play specific roles in the orchestra. Being sure to never cut anyone down publicly, he would remind everyone that, without the role that each trumpet part plays, the orchestra's quality deteriorates, perhaps resulting in lower pay or less work for everyone.

Robert then asked Mike to tell him the name of the janitor that came in to clean the equipment storage room every Tuesday. Smiling to himself, as he had chatted with the portly man on several occasions about sports and family life, Mike identified him correctly as Jamal Anderson. Clearly impressed, Robert commended Mike for being familiar with all the staff members that help the symphony run effectively, regardless of their position or background.

Thinking for a few moments, Philip then said that he did not have any interview questions for Mike. Rather, he asked if there were any specific techniques he used that helped him prepare for this audition. Mike gave a quick overview of his typical daily routine. Sensing that Philip wanted more, he then began to describe the fire drill that his friends had set up for him two days previous, leaving out the part about them mooning and flashing him of course. His smile a mile wide, Philip told Mike that he had some incredibly dedicated and loyal friends, and that he must never take that for granted, no matter how successful he becomes.

The trio again rose to shake Mike's hand, and Robert dismissed him so that they could converse and come to a decision on which of the candidates best fit the needs of the orchestra. Thanking them graciously as he left, Mike returned to the green room to pack up his equipment. Reappearing with quiet footsteps, so as not to startle him, Melody applauded his performance.

"You are something else," she marveled.

Drawing her close with a big smile, he kissed her, stating, "The die is cast. It's in their hands now."

"Wanna know what they're thinking?"

"Nah... they'll tell me when they're ready," he replied. "Ok, so I'm gonna head outside and chat with Darcy for a bit. We'll have you walk up during the conversation as if you're here to pick me up. That'll be a good way to make the introductions."

"Sounds good to me." Another quick kiss, and Melody had vanished once again.

As he walked out of symphony hall, Mike couldn't help but have the same thoughts he had felt one week ago.

Nailed it!

"There's the man!" called Darcy from her favorite courtyard bench.

Running up to her with his arms in the air, Mike channeled his inner Rocky Balboa, exclaiming, "Yo, Adrian! I did it!!"

"So, how do you feel?" she asked with a laugh.

"Excellent. You guys really got me ready to go. Good thing too; Philip Smith was the third panelist."

"Philip Smith?! Holy crap! Is he really as soft-spoken as he seems in his interviews?"

"Yep. Great guy, definitely my personal and professional hero," Mike replied. "But hey, if I can ignore your antics, avoiding the intimidation of playing in front of the best trumpet player in the world is no biggie."

Laughing with a smug look on her face, Darcy shot back, "What? He doesn't have the rack I've got?"

"Not even close," said Mike, comically gazing at Darcy's bust.

"You got any plans for the evening? Wanna join me for dinner? I'll gladly drive if you need to down a few beers."

"Actually, I think my ride's here now," Mike said, looking over Darcy's shoulder.

"Hey baby!" Melody called, walking across the courtyard toward them.

Stunned with a dumbfounded look on her face, Darcy could only ask, "And just who... is that?"

Grinning his trademark smartass smile, Mike replied, "My girlfriend. Come on, I want you to meet her."

Meeting Melody at a nearby picnic table, she and Mike sat together across from Darcy. "Darcy, this is my girlfriend, Melody Roberts. Melody, Darcy White, the best bassoonist the city of Atlanta has ever seen!"

"Great to meet you!" Melody said, shaking Darcy's hand across the table.

"You too," Darcy replied, glancing at Mike. "Ok mister, what happened to 'no contact of the female variety,' huh?"

Shaking his head in exasperation, he responded, "Well, the truth is that Melody and I have been communicating for a couple of months now. I just wanted to keep things really close to the vest until I was certain of how serious things were, if you know what I mean. We met online, went on a couple of coffee dates..."

"Bullshit!" Darcy interrupted. "I know damn well you don't drink coffee."

"...Which is why I ordered a Coke! Anyhow, we have very similar personalities and interests, and last week, I officially asked her to be my girlfriend."

Sitting silently for a minute, glancing back and forth between Mike and Melody, Darcy finally asked, "You guys are serious, aren't you?"

Entwining his fingers with Melody's, Mike simply replied, "We are."

Smiling, Darcy continued, "Then in that case, you need to join us for dinner," pointing at Melody.

"That'd be great! Gotta celebrate, after all. I just know he hit it out of the park," Melody gushed.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Mike mused, pointing to the exit to symphony hall. At the top of the steps, Jessica, Robert, and Philip were saying their goodbyes and shaking hands. Mike was sure he could hear them chatting about "making an excellent decision."

"Wonder what that means?" Darcy asked with a sly grin.

As Jessica and Philip went their separate ways, Robert spotted Mike across the courtyard and began walking towards them.

"Could they have made a decision already?" Melody wondered.

"I suppose it's possible," Mike replied, "but that would be ridiculously fast."

"Mr. Braxton, I want to thank you," Robert said as he approached.

"Of course... but for what?" Mike inquired.

"For making our decision today extremely easy," he replied with a chuckle. "Want to know the first words out of Philip's mouth after you left the room? He said, 'After that audition, I don't think there's any contest.' Jessica and I happen to agree with him. We'll draw up the official contract on Monday, but it is my pleasure to inform you that you ARE the new principal trumpet of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra!"

As Melody clapped excitedly and Darcy started a victory dance, Mike tried to remain as composed and professional as possible. "Thank you very much, Maestro. This means so much to me, and I can guarantee that you will not be disappointed," he replied, his hands slightly trembling with excitement.

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