Strawberry Orange Star Night

Cresc.-Animato

In the early morning, the breeze quietly pushed aside the green radishes on the windowsill.Nuan Yang sneaked through the window, leaving a golden kiss on Fuge's face.

Fogg woke up.He opened his eyes and looked at the slightly out-of-focus ceiling with a confused look on his face.Even if you are a genius, you will inevitably be confused for a while when you first wake up in the morning.But only a second later, he suddenly jumped up from the bed, jumped onto the wooden floor barefoot, and looked around... until his eyes fell on the table and he found the familiar piano case, he breathed a sigh of relief .

He patted his face, woke up, and his mind gradually became clear.He couldn't believe that his life had changed so drastically in just one day.First, they got out of control and made a fool of themselves, were expelled from the house, and lost their homes, but found a place to stay—the "Passionate" band.What is even more unbelievable is that he actually played the first real music in his life!

At the sound audition last night, the orchestra members applauded him and accepted him after listening to his performance.Buccarati opened a bottle of wine to celebrate, Apaki cooked a simple home-cooked meal, and everyone laughed and made noise.He must have been too tired to remember what happened after the third cup.When he woke up again, he was in this bedroom.

This bedroom is not big and the furnishings are simple, far inferior to the one in his original luxurious mansion, but he likes it very much.He opened the window and bathed the whole bedroom in sunlight. He gently stroked the green radish by the window, smelling the refreshing fragrance of flowers, and the breeze combed his blond hair.Fuge felt as if a light hot air balloon rose from his chest. He looked back at the piano case placed on the wooden table and couldn't help laughing.

He went to the bathroom and found a new cup, toothbrush and towel.He saw himself in the mirror, disheveled and dressed in yesterday's recital clothes.But he had never felt so good.

After washing up and ignoring breakfast, Fuge put on the piano case and planned to go straight to the piano room.When he went down to the second floor, he didn't meet other band members on the way, maybe they didn't get up yet.

On both sides of the long corridor on the second floor, there are twelve doors.The door at the end leads to the piano room where he attended the audition last night. It should be the ensemble rehearsal room, because the room is very large and the reverb is very good.Maybe the front rooms were small piano rooms for solo practice, he thought.He pushed open the first door, and sure enough.

Thus, Fugo began to practice the cello for the first time in his life.He found a small rug and laid it on the ground as a non-slip mat. He moved a chair and sat down. He bent over to open the piano case. After applying the rosin, he took the piano out and leaned against his knees. bow.He tried his best to recreate that posture while recalling the cello performance he had seen before.He draws the bow with his right hand, starting from the first string, and draws out an empty string...

He was shocked.

The bow of the cello is heavier than that of the violin, and his bowing strength has not yet been adjusted, so the sound is small and muffled, extremely incoherent.However, this does not affect intonation.Why is the sound wrong?

The first string of the violin is the E string.And the first string he pulled on the cello was intermittent, but he still accurately heard it was the A string.He tried to play the second string, third string, and fourth string, which are D, G, and C, which are completely different from the violin.

Fugo tried to change the handle again, feeling even more uncomfortable, the violin is two degrees between each finger, and the cello, after repeated trials, he realized that it should be half a degree.

Not only that, the strings of the cello are also thicker than those of the violin. After he changed the strings many times, his fingertips, which were already covered with a thin layer of calluses, felt a long-lost faint tingling.

Frustrated, Fogg put the piano back in its case and stared at it.It seems that changing careers is more difficult than I imagined.

He decided to go to the bookstore to look for textbooks first.I remember passing a bookstore on the road yesterday, he thought.However, he is still penniless now, even if he finds that bookstore, he can only read Bawang Books first.He came to the living room on the first floor, left a note for everyone, posted it in a conspicuous place by the fireplace, and went out.

He returned the same way yesterday.It was still very early, and Naples hadn't woken up yet. The road was sparsely populated and very quiet, except for a few sporadic birds chirping... He stopped at an intersection and recalled yesterday's route.Where should we go?

Just then, he heard the melody of Little Star.It was a very simple part of nursery rhymes, crisp and slender, with a sound somewhere between triangle iron and marimba, perhaps played by a child somewhere.He stopped and listened for a while, thinking of the tragedy of yesterday's recital, he couldn't help but laugh, thinking that this coincidence was very ironic.

It should be in this direction.He is about to set off again... the little star next to his ear, enter the first variation.Not fast, but accurate chromatic scales, which is absolutely impossible for children - there are no black keys on children's toy violins.He couldn't help but ignite his curiosity.

He followed the sound and went away.He turned a few steps around the corner and saw a narrow alley, dark and dank, with rubbish overflowing from buckets.The noise came from the garbage heap.Fugo stepped forward, and an unexpected scene came into view.

It was a waif.He squatted on the ground, and there was a row of glass bottles in front of him, about twenty of them, and the water levels in the bottles were different.The waif took a stick and knocked on the glass bottle in turn, knocking out the first variation of Little Star. Hearing the sound of Fuge's approaching footsteps, he stopped his movements and stood up.

Fogg looked at the waif, the boy was half a head shorter than himself, with a messy black hair on top of a cap, dirty and too loose clothes, but grape-colored eyes were moist and bright.

Fogg heard himself asking, "What's the matter with these bottles?"

The waif immediately froze like a wild cat. He dropped his stick, strode across the row of bottles, raised his arms, and shouted, "Why are you asking this? Are you going to grab my bottles and sell them? "

Fogg quickly waved his hands, he took a few steps back, and showed a friendly smile to the waif. "No, I won't snatch your bottle. Hello, my name is Fuge. I just passed by here and accidentally heard the little star variation. I want to come and see who is playing it."

Seeing that Fugo was harmless, the waif let out a loud sigh of relief, and laughed too, showing a row of teeth. "Oh! That's how it is. My name is Naranga! How about it, Fugo, I play very well, right? I collected these bottles, and the water in them is the water I received from the fountain in the middle of the street. Just pour it in the bottle like this In Shangshui, some are more and some are less, if they are connected in a row, they can make a sound!"

Naranja eloquently introduced his masterpiece.Fugo's eyes followed Naranja's and carefully inspected the row of bottles, but he was still a little skeptical.If there is no absolute pitch, this kind of thing is absolutely impossible.

"I have a question, do you know the names of these sounds?" Fuge couldn't help asking.

"Of course," Naranja glared at Fugo as if offended.

"That's good," Fugo picked up the stick that Naranja threw on the ground, picked a bottle, and knocked a note. "What's the sound?"

"B."

"what about this?"

"F sharp."

"what about this?"

"G sharp."

Fugo knocked a few more notes, and Naranja answered all of them correctly.Fogg took two bottles, and pouring some water from one into the other, he made a new sound.He tapped it and asked Naranga what it sounded like.Naranja was still right.

Fuge had to believe that the dirty waif in front of him did have absolute pitch.Seeing that Fugo stopped, Naranja chattered again and again, talking about how boring this kind of test is, it is absolutely impossible for him to answer wrongly, he sleeps in the trash can, and he even knows the sound of closing the lid What is the sound, and so on and so on.Fogg looked at Naranga, at the ragged waif, at the sparkle in his grape-colored eyes.He seemed to see himself who had longed for the cello back then.

He took Naranja's hand involuntarily.Startled, Naranca said something aloud, but he didn't pay attention.He looked carefully at Naranja's hand, which was very large, with long fingers and short nail beds.

"Naranga, do you want to play a real piano?"

Naranja's big round eyes opened wider and rounder.He stared at Fugo, opened and closed his lips, but made no sound.Then they heard Naranga's belly growl.

Therefore, Fu Ge put the matter of the bookstore behind him, and brought Nalanja back to "Enthusiasm".Naranja finally came back to his senses, he seemed to restrain himself a lot, and asked about Fugo's piano carefully.Fugo gave him a general introduction to the orchestra.He told Naranga that the members of the orchestra were very good, how to keep him.

They are not far from the orchestra, only two streets away.As soon as Fuge finished introducing the members of the orchestra, he saw the pale yellow building.Nalanga didn't ask any more questions, and he didn't say anything. The two of them just walked slowly amidst the sea breeze and gulls.

In fact, Fuge was a little apprehensive.I just joined, so I took it upon myself to bring someone home, and even asked him to play the piano... I don't know if Bugarati will agree.It's useless to think too much, let's see the situation.They finally came to the orchestra.

Fogg went up and rang the doorbell—he hadn't got the key to the door yet—but Naranja was nowhere to be seen.He turned his head and found that Nalanga was more than ten meters behind him, hesitating.

"Come on," Fugo beckoned to him.

Naranja lowered his eyes.Seeing that he was unwilling to step forward, Fugo strode over to him, grabbed his arm, and tried to pull him away.Naranja writhed like a trout, and the two wrestled.Fugo didn't expect Naranja to have such great strength.Obviously the arms are so thin!

"Give me—come here—" Fugo became angry and squeezed out words through his teeth.

"This is a good family's house!" Naranja also gritted his teeth, "They won't let me in—"

"Who won't let in?"

The door opened, and Trish stuck his head out.

While wrestling with Naranja, Fugo called to her, "Come and help pull him into the house!"

Although Trixie didn't know what was going on, she was willing to help others.The girl's strength was also unexpectedly great. She and Fugo worked together to finally drag Naranja into the house and close the door.

Fugo and Naranja were panting heavily, and Trish looked at them with great interest.The sound of music came faintly upstairs.

"They were rehearsing upstairs. I was going to listen in. I just opened the door of the piano room when I heard you ring the doorbell. Fugo, have you found your book? Who is this?"

Fuge recovered his breath and replied, "I didn't find the book. But I found something better than the book. This is Nalanga, he has absolute pitch."

"Really?" Trish opened his eyes wide and looked at Naranja in surprise.Naranja looked uncomfortable, trying to minimize his exposure to anything in the house.

"Really. Where's Bucciarati?"

"It's rehearsal."

So Fugo dragged Naranja upstairs.Naranja didn't flop around in the room, probably because she was afraid of messing things up.He lowered his head and followed Fugo, followed by Trish. The three of them came to the second floor together, walked through the corridor, and came to the concealed door at the end of the corridor.Along the way, the noise became louder and louder, presumably it came from the open door.

"Ah! My fault." Trish jumped forward and made a cute grimace.Fuge couldn't help laughing, and turned around to drag Naranja in, but found that Naranja raised his head at some point, and looked at the door with crystal clear eyes.

"Come?" asked Fogg.

Naranja nodded.They went into the piano room.

In the piano room, Bugarati, Giorno, and Mista are rehearsing the ensemble.They were playing Brahms' Horn Trio, and the second movement had just begun.This is an allegro scherzo, full of vitality and love for life.The jubilant and jumping notes rush out from under the fingers of Bucciarati, and Giorno's violin is gorgeous and brilliant. Together with Mista's bright French horn, they show a layered and harmonious color.

It's so beautiful, Fugo admired secretly.He leaned slightly towards Naranja beside him, and said in a low voice, "See? The one who is playing the piano is the head of our orchestra." He didn't hear Naranja's answer.He turned his head to the side and saw Naranja staring straight at the piano without saying a word.

In the middle of the music, Buccarati stopped playing, and Giorno and Mista also put down their instruments.

Buccarati knocked on the score and said, "The next part of the waltz, the two of you should cooperate more sadly. Giorno, you stand out a bit, here should be..." Until Trixie knocked the door, he Only then did he notice the three people at the door.

The trio greeted the door.With sharp eyes, Mista saw Naranja - Naranja hid behind Fugo after the music paused - and shouted loudly, "Who is that?"

Fugo took a step to the side and pushed Naranja forward. Bugarati pulled out a chair and asked Naranja to sit down.He is really amiable, and he is far more comforting than Fugo.After being appeased by Bugarati, although Naranja still looked a little restrained, she was not as tense as before.Everyone sat down, and Fugo told everyone what happened.On the road to the bookstore, little stars, dark alleys, waifs, bottles, absolute pitch.Mista picked up the French horn and blew a few notes, and Naranja answered the names of the notes one by one.

"In this case, let's play the piano." Bukara lifted up, stroked Naranja's messy hair, and said gently.

Naranca raised his head abruptly and looked at Bugarati in disbelief.Bugarati gently pushed his back, led him to the piano bench, patted his shoulder, and encouraged him to sit down.

Naranga only touched a small corner of the piano bench.He looked down at the piano keyboard and was stunned for a while before finally moving.He repeatedly rubbed his right hand against his clothes, obviously trying to clean it up.Bugarati reassured him that it was okay.

So Naranja bent his right index finger and hesitantly landed on the white key.The piano answered him with a mellow note—he found middle C in no time.He paused for a moment, as if savoring the lingering sound, and after the resonance in the room dissipated, he began to play the little star.He only used his right hand to play, the speed was not fast, but he was accurate. He struck the black and white keys one by one, and then raised his left hand to his face and wiped it vigorously.Fugo saw Naranka's shoulders rise and fall, and he heard the sound of sniffling.

At the end of the first variation, Nalanga stopped. He was sobbing. He covered his eyes with the back of his left hand, but his right hand was still firmly on the keys. .

"Naranga, would you like to learn piano with me?" Bugara asked.

Fugo saw Naranja nodded.