I slumped down on the bench. The wooden pavilion was the only safe place for me anymore. Danielle has been acting weird lately, but she has never bailed on one of shopping sprees in Dludum. It’s a ritual that we go out to Dludum every weekend during break. I really shouldn’t be jealous. She’s probably just found more friends, upperclassman, that she can hang out with. We couldn’t just be attached to each other for the rest of our lives. We’re too different. We could still be friends, I think.

“Don’t think about it,” I pulled my guitar out of its case and strummed over its familiar strings. I could almost see the old music professor, a kind-hearted, open-minded, full-blooded elf who gave me my love of music. He had enthusiastically taught me how to sing and to play the guitar, piano and violin. In his will, he had given me this elvan-made guitar that changed volumes depending on the user’s mood and an elvan-made, black violin that let listeners feel the emotions of the musician.

“Hey.”

I jumped. A male voice seemed to come from the bushes. I roughly wiped the tears from my face. “Who’s there?”

“Down here, beautiful,” looking down a saw a young boy standing in the bushes that surround the raised pavilion, his head barely taller than the bushes. He looked to be from one of the younger years and height-wise probably barely up to my waist.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Shawn. Sorry to interrupt your beautiful moment, but could I join you up there?”

“Sure?”

“Thanks!” He had to jump up to reach the rail I could have reached just raising my hand over my head. He offered a hand to me. “I’m Shawn, official playboy of Y7. My band and I have been looking for a singer and guitarist since our last back-up singer and guitarist both graduated. You’ve got a great voice and it sounds like you’ve got some skills on the guitar. You wanna join? You might to deal with Nick. He’s not going to be happy that I found someone with a voice better than his.”

“A band?”

“You probably wouldn’t know us unless you’ve been to the clubs out in Dludum. Nick’s in Y9. Me and our percussionist Phoenix are in Y7. I don’t think you’re in our year…”

“No, I’m in Y8.”

“Nice! Right in between! This is going to be sweet!”

“I haven’t quire accepted yet,” I glared at the short boy. With his spiked blond hair and lively gray eyes, he looked to be in about Y3 or Y4, but… “Wait. You said you’re the official playboy of Y7?”

His eyes lost some of its gleam, and he started to pout. “Yeah, I’m half-human, half-dwarf. I supposedly got most of my looks from my mom, but I definitely got my height from my dwarf father. People say I look too young, but I’m totally destined to be the greatest player in all of history, just like the Forest Panther.”

“Oh,” he definitely looked young, but I could see how the mixed blood would affect his appearance. He was definitely a self-proclaimed player, because no actual player would declare themselves as a player. I don’t know the other guys, but they can’t be too bad. Besides, I have to find friends of my own to hang out with whenever Danielle goes out. I can’t forever just mope around in our dorm room until she gets back. “What kind of music do you guys play?”

“Yes!” He was definitely a Y4 or something. Y7 guys don’t do weird looking victory dances, right? “You gonna join, right? We play all kinds of music. I like the very rock, R&B, hip-hop-y, pop or rock & roll-type stuffs. Nick’s got a thing for pop stuff and love ballads. We’ve got to keep the ladies happy, if ya know what I mean. You’re probably a fan girl of some boy band, right? You like them love ballads? Then, Phoenix even makes us play some classic music, you know, like instrumentals and boring stuff like that. You’ll fit right in.”

This is probably a mistake, but getting myself out there is the first step to making friends, right? This kid seems enthusiastic about me joining, and I can always find more people to be friends with. Musicians should know more musicians, right? “Fine. I’m in.”

“Yes!” I stepped back as his face surpassed my height. For such a short kid, he could be a high jumper. “Meet us next weekend at NMC 210. You know where that is, right? The north music building?”

“Yeah. I know where that is.” That’s where the late Professor taught me how to play music.  “When next weekend?”
            “Oh, right. On Septim, around noon. Bring your guitar! We’ll be waiting! You got a name?”

“Um... Y-yeah. Leah.”