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WHAT IF
Introducing: Preston Jennings & Ramón Herrera
FT: Jericho Phillips & Gavriel Shomer
Small FT: Phantom Menace 
(Conan Dawson, Lorelei Mercer, Hennessy James
Asher Mitchell & Carter Jenkins)[/sub][/color][/right]
[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/230828/82306a5da0332ea8239bcd745c8685d5.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/hUm1rSa.png[/img]

[url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/aces-away][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220626/fe2d9304a6eaff80a4d45d6ff074a27f.png[/img][/url]  [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220626/20e4a27e1adc68a5da4e5e803a955a8e.png[/img]  [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/users/lovelycomplex][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/220626/22d3f6d4b12b79b1c1bf810756ff3845.png[/img][/url]
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[color=lightgray][indent][indent]In the control room of Absolute Sounds music studio, Jericho Phillips watched the promising band, Phantom Menace, do a warm up song. A cover of [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBkKWuO7KuI]Awake and Alive[/url] by Skillet. He was incredibly engrossed in the music as he made sure the signals of each channel were sound and good for recording, adjusting as needed. In the room over, a small kitchenette, Preston Jenning was bobbing his head to the music as he fixed the herd of people sandwiches, while waiting for the milk to steam for JP’s espresso shot.  

He had already given Gavriel, who was standing beside JP, his caramel mocha, with almond milk and six shots of espresso. He also prepared and gave a dirty chai latte to his lover, Ramón Herrera. Well, all three of these boys were his lovers, which was weird to process at times because he did worry that he and Rye would clash. They didn’t, thankfully and actually could relate on a variety of things like anxiety and fear of missing out. 

Ramón was pouting on the sofa, like he does, having offered to help Pres make food for their little family and the band, but Pres being Pres, a.k.a. stubborn as fuck, told him no. Their job was to make sure music and entertainment went without a hitch or the Queensnake would come for them. So, Pres tasked Ramón with reaching out to other local talents, compiling a list of those who would perform at his jazz club, Blue Heaven, for Beau’s retirement party. He also tasked his lovers with getting in contact with Beau’s children, especially the broadway star and the singer-songwriter, to see if they’d be willing to do a surprise performance for their father at the end, singing his favorite song. There was no doubt in Preston’s mind that Genevieve and Evangeline had the range for it and could make their father cry tears of joy.  

After preparing JP’s drink, Preston came out of the kitchen and offered it to Rye to hold, seeing how breaking JP out of this zone was more work than not. JP watched carefully as Conan Dawson and Lorelei Mercer did a duet together, moving around each other as if this was what they were born to do. As if they were angels of music personified, in transcendental harmony and melody. Conan, the lead guitar, Lala the keyboardist. Around them? Hennessy James, on her white violin, gifted to her by her cousin, Maxine. On the right side of her was Asher Mitchell, best friend to Mirabella Belmonte, playing his carbon fiber black cello. He obviously had the dual purpose of being the bassist, but this song sounded better with the cello.  Behind them all, on drums, was Carter Jenkins, a mutual friend of Mira and Ash, channeling energy into power.  

This group of young, starving and hungry musicians, almost famous, held the ambition of immortality just like their predecessor band, The Gallows. A group of likeminded people who use their music as a weapon, in a war against unhappiness. They are spirits, admitting themselves in other’s souls, where they can never die. Rather than explain how they felt, they showed it and got lost in the music. The only medicine they knew to heal the heart and soul was music. Preston smiled at JP before giving Rye a quick kiss on the cheek. When he saw Ramón staring at him like a hawk, he sighed, [color=d16aa8]“Fine, come help me,”[/color] before disappearing into the other room once more. 

Ramón finally smiled and got up to prance after Pres, bopping Rye playfully on the nose and getting a tongue stuck out at him in return as he passed, his phone with the very list he’d been tasked to compile held tightly in his hand. Ramón had always done better when he was multitasking, and helping Pres play host was the perfect little bit of stimulation on the side to keep him focused on the task of rounding up the Beauregards and the rest of the willing Edenridge talent. Plus he always found it to be a little personal victory when Preston gave in on being stubborn for no reason, there weren’t many people that could glare him into submission and Ramón was of the proud few. Now in the kitchenette, he sidled up to Preston’s back and wrapped his arms around him, kissing between his lover’s shoulder blades before asking, [color=bb3a50]“What can I help with?”[/color]

He was happy to help in any way. It was a little too late for any sewing aside from last minute fixes, and the party didn’t exactly have a costume theme for him to work his magic with, so he was picking up any little last minute thing that had been missed or forgotten until now, hoping to disperse some of the stress from his lovers’ shoulders. The last thing he wanted to do was end up getting in the way of Pres, and even when Ramón was being demanding or being a bit clingy, he knew when to step back and just follow suit so things went as smoothly as possible.

He was more than in the way. He was a distraction. Detaching from being the parent of their quartet, Pres unlatched Ramón’s hold on him and gently switched positions where his lover was against the counter and his tall form was pressed against him. Taking all distance away, he firmly grabbed his boyfriend’s chin and whispered, [color=d16aa8]“Mm… I think I need something relaxing.”[/color] Drawing Ramón in with his heated gaze, he inclined his face towards his and let their lips join. He was tender and loving, even if there was so much passion being restrained so he didn’t misbehave. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against his soulmate and softly asked, [color=d16aa8]“What do you have in mind?”[/color]

Ramón’s sharp grin was answer enough.

[color=a8d16a]“That was great,”[/color] JP’s voice resounded in the sound room from the booth when the song came to a close before suggesting their next song to play, [color=a8d16a]“Okay, let’s do another warm up for Lala’s voice. [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckGM15dGLvM]Wasted On You[/url], by Evanescence.”[/color]

The band listened to JP’s commanding presence, seeing how he was their direction and the one that knew how to push them in ways that none of them understood. They were all gifted in their own way but he knew where all of them needed to improve. Conan had more talent than he realized and he had the drive, he had the whole package, but he still was fighting a beast that JP didn’t know how to save him from. A southie syndrome where you didn’t think you deserved any good that happens to you. 

Lorelei was so incredibly gifted, her voice could be the next Evanescence if she saw beyond this little town they called home. Unfortunately, the ghosts of her parents lurked over her and she was still struggling with following her voice. She was good at listening to her brother and her best friends, but never herself. Henny struggled with confidence and preferred to fade in the background. Asher wasn’t as committed to the band because he was raised in a northie household where music was damned as a successful career. Carter had a vibe but it seemed he was just here for the moment and not thinking about the long term. He would make it to practice but if they got a record label, JP was unsure he’d follow the band into the future. 

The one who dreamed though? The one who wanted them to be more than just a small town band. Conan. That boy lived and breathed music and if JP had anything to say about this, he would make sure he could help make that boy’s dreams come true. He just had to help him believe that he deserved all the good coming to him. That it wasn’t just Chase meant to escape their unfortunate circumstance. No. Conan. You will live and you will live well. 

[color=a8d16a]“I don’t know how you do it,”[/color] Jericho broke the silence of the sound booth, turning from the band to look at his best friend, and lover, Rye. [color=a8d16a]“What this town can do to people, especially to Southies, it’s such a hard thing to break. I am fortunate my mom carried all that pain and protected me from it, but seeing people like them,”[/color] he gestured to Phantom Menace who started singing a song from The Bitter Truth album and leaned back in his seat, nursing his espresso shot in his hand. [color=a8d16a]“I just…”[/color] he paused and took a moment to down his shot, going from one train of thought to the next. 

[color=a8d16a]“You know to this day, all I can really do is talk music with the Boaz boys. There’s a fine line of how much I really can understand. Yeah, my dad was a dick. I got abused, but I still don’t think I have the right to connect with such… dynamic people. My mom shut that down a long time ago and you helped me get over that trauma. He gave up on my family but that just made me want to be better than the man he could ever be. Even with that being said, that’s nothing in comparison to what this town has done to some of these kids. Like Lala’s rapist step dad? Conan’s serial killer parents? Even right now, I look at them and just see the colors surrounding them, their potential. Their future. I can’t see their past and I can’t connect with it, even if I wanted to. I try, lord knows I do, but you Rye. You’ve always been so good at empathizing. Sure, at the detriment of your own health, but you get what I mean.”[/color]

[color=28e0af]“Jericho…”[/color] Rye started softly, his brown eyes locking onto JP’s own, his hands wrapped tightly around the warmth of his own mug as he untucked his feet from beneath himself and planted them on the floor as if to ground himself. His lover’s words struck a chord with him that he hadn’t been expecting, making him look out at the others as if he could see the colors that JP always described to him, before looking back to the talented man and seeing what Rye [i]always[/i] saw; the duality in his eyes of Hurt and Healer. Hurt is everywhere, it didn’t hide behind property or poverty lines, it just shifted and morphed until it fit the mold that hid the best within whatever statistic it found. Healer’s eyes were far rarer, which is unfortunate given that those with them are drawn to help those who’ve been harmed. Unfortunate that there are never enough. Even more unfortunate is when they’re a swirling mix like JP’s, when they show that whatever pain they experienced before, that’s what turned them [i]into[/i] healers. JP is drawn to people, but connecting outside of the music is different. 

Sometimes, in times like these really, it makes Rye wonder if the trade off for being able to see the light people give off, their potential and future- or seeing their souls as Rye would put it- is that he’s blinded to anything else that may be there in the here and now. He loved Jericho, of course he did, and he knew that this disconnect bothered the other man. They talk about it every now and then, usually in the dark just before bed where they whisper all their worries, but Rye was hoping that that cloud wouldn’t roll across JP’s sky on this particular day. With this whole day focusing on the connections of the town to Beau, however, he could understand what got his boyfriend’s gears going.

[color=28e0af]“I grew up with them,”[/color] Rye finally admitted once he realized JP was patiently waiting for him to say more while he was zoned out, and he pointedly ignored the ending comment he’d made about Rye’s own issue of ignoring his health in favor of helping others. He was an EMT, it was practically part of the job description. He shook his head with a tight smile. [color=28e0af]“Not here, and not actually them, obviously, but when I lived in Cleveland it wasn’t much different. I was upper middle-class but my best friend Tayvon Marcus was a lot like Decky, to the point where I visited his grave to tell him about Decky and Danny’s life once we graduated, so he could know that some people do get out where he couldn’t. My buddy Tre was all bristle-y like Mika when I first met him, so I knew with him I’d either get my ass beat before getting a new friend or I’d get a surprising level of ‘let’s see how this shit goes’ before getting a new friend. The gang activity was less organized and there were a lot of kids claiming to be in gangs when they weren’t, and we didn’t have the rich kids and poor kids all tied up in the same schools, but it was like a dry run for what my life here would be, really,”[/color] He set down his coffee and tilted his head. 

[color=28e0af]“You know I don’t…connect with people quite as well as you think I do, right? Unless I’m a better actor than I thought, because I was pretty sure that I was tolerable at best to a lot of people,”[/color] He laughed, realizing it sounded dumb as he said it. The amount of people he’d surrounded himself with since coming to Edenridge was vast, and he knew most of them didn’t have the disposition where they would [i]just put up with him[/i] if they didn’t want him around. [color=28e0af]“Honestly JP I just insert myself against what my anxiety tells me. I literally faked it ‘til I made it. If this is really bothering you, come to more hang outs with me and the Southies, and when you’re listening to their stories, close your eyes and [i]just[/i] listen. Don’t try and boost them to their potential, don’t look at them like they could be your next project. Step out of Healer mode and acknowledge that you know hurt, and that you can sympathize even where you can’t empathize. No one out there wants pity, and they don’t want people worrying about what to say around them. They want to talk about how shit things in their lives are and they want you to pat them on the back, tell them ‘that’s rough buddy’, and then roast them over something completely non related. You may not have a full conversation on your hands, but you’re still learning about them, still connecting, even if it doesn’t really feel like it. I don’t feel like I’m on the same wavelength as most people, I always feel like I missed conditioning for a sports season and everyone on the team already knows each other and the hand signs while I’m just rolling up before the first game,”[/color] He shrugged, rolling his mug between his hands and giving JP a crooked grin. [color=28e0af]“So I really don’t know if doing things the way I did will help, but there’s always [i]trying.[/i]”[/color]

Preston had Ramón pushed up against the wall by the open archway, hearing the other two talk. Into his lover’s lips, he gave an exasperated sigh, no longer prioritizing their lunches and his current snack, a sexy, smol latino. Releasing the other boy,  who groaned in frustration, he led the way back outside and crossed his arms, looking at the back of Rye and JP’s heads. [color=d16aa8]“You both need to shut the fuck up.”[/color] At this point, Jericho had taken a moment to drink his espresso shot only for him to choke on it, cough and turn his attention to where Pres was standing tall. [color=d16aa8]“Doesn’t matter how old we get, you two got more chaos in your minds than Charlie Decker sometimes that you can’t see the obvious. Come here. The both of you. Now. And yes, JP, just let the musicians be.”[/color]

Rye, after almost dropping his half full mug from surprise and somehow managing to save it, set the drink on the table and followed after his boyfriends, catching up with JP and wrapping his arms around the other man’s bicep nervously. Ramón rolled his eyes at the curly haired man, who once again stuck his tongue out at the sassy man only to recoil when the latino snapped his hand out and caught Rye’s tongue between his fingers. The indecipherable look in the similarly petite man’s eyes conflicted with the cocky smirk, and Rye was once again struck with the familiar feeling of being studied on the spot before Ramón dropped his hand, trailing it across JP’s shoulders before he returned to Pres’ side.

[color=28e0af]“Um, what’s up Pres?”[/color] Rye asked when they reached their destination, licking his lips anxiously. 

[color=d16aa8]“First off!”[/color] Preston tenderly grabbed both of their heads and pressed them against one another. [color=d16aa8]“Fake it till you make it? You [i]only[/i] talk about music?”[/color] Exasperated, he glared at both of them, letting his questions sink in, so that they could replay it in their minds and hear how dumb they sounded. [color=d16aa8]“I’m the one with a psychologist for a mom that psychoanalyzes me everyday and talks about my most embarrassing shit on the web for EVERYONE to hear and here I am, listening to this, and suddenly you two got a degree in psych. Going down the rabbit hole like it’s nobody’s business. Doesn’t matter how old we are, you two do the same shit. Over and over again.”[/color]

Crossing his arms once more, like the parental figure of the group (which was an odd role for him seeing how both his parents were selfish pricks), Preston caught JP’s soft and deep gaze, those eyes full of depth that could draw any person in, enthralling them by the imagination that waits on the other side, [color=d16aa8]“Jericho, your love language [i]is[/i] music. What you can’t say in words, you express it with song, whether it’s giving someone a record that they can resonate with or playing a song that makes them cry and realize something they’ve buried deep inside. You ever thought that maybe, just maybe that’s enough for people like Decky and Danny? I doubt they want people to constantly undress them emotionally, they got lovers and best friends for that. Pops can call Decky out so quick and suddenly he got puppy dog eyes and he’s thinking of ways to make things right. Sonny and Maya? Don’t even get me started with them and what they do to him, and no I don’t mean sexually. We find people and they all do different things for us, that’s why we got this whole poly thing going on. You do more than enough and I’m pretty sure they appreciate you or they wouldn’t keep coming back and wanting to listen to whatever shit you got going on in your head. It doesn’t have to be deep, but believe it or not, JP, you don’t have to say shit for something to feel profound. You carry this spirit that just attracts people and makes them want to be near you. Where you think you lack, we, the ones that love you, can pick up. I know for a fact I can’t just pick the right song for someone, but I sure as hell can see patterns and find the root cause of your trauma, given time. You understand?”[/color]

JP kept quiet and nodded as Pres went full mama lecture mode on their asses. He knew he over-thought, just as much as Rye did, but it was nice to have someone like Preston and Ramón to bring them back, in their own ways. Speaking of Ramón, the latino boy found himself naturally near Pres, behind him, tracing his hands on his back and massaging his shoulders, seeing how Pres was more often than not extremely tensed. Even when near those he considered family, Pres carried plenty of tension and Ramón took it upon himself to be the one who relieves it, whenever he can. Silent but helpful, thinking he was in the way when he did more than enough by being there and doing plenty of small things that are never left unnoticed. At least not by his lovers.  

[color=d16aa8]“Now Gavriel,”[/color] Preston reached out and grabbed Rye’s hand, rubbing it with his thumb affectionately. He didn’t say anything until Rye looked him in the eyes. Only then he began to speak. [color=d16aa8]“Since when did caring become an act to you? You might not understand the how or why you do the things you do, but does that matter when you worry and love deeply? You call it anxiety, I call it kindness and a pure heart. Understanding a person doesn’t need a logical explanation. And this is for you both,”[/color] Pres glanced back at JP, sighing once more. He returned his hazel eyes to Rye and interlocked his fingers with the other boy’s. [color=d16aa8]“Empathy comes naturally to you. I know for a fact neither of you have walked the same paths most of these southies have. You, Rye, befriended them, but you do not know what it means to live in their shoes. That doesn’t mean you don’t know how to provide a safe place, which is something you effortlessly do, and that’s what Jericho sees. He sees you effortlessly go beyond the shallow understanding and put in the time, effort and hard work to understand. That means the world to people. When you don’t judge them and you try, and try, and try your damndest to get past the barriers, it does a number to you, where I’ve told you you need to learn this thing called boundaries, but it’s also just who you are and I’ve come to accept that. That doesn’t mean I won’t help you maneuver around those flooding emotions, to the best of my capabilities. That I won’t do my part to keep you together.”[/color]

With ease, Pres tugged Ramón to come beside him and brought his boyfriends in a giant hug, [color=d16aa8]“But that’s beside the point. If there’s one thing you have in common, it’s the fact you don’t walk away from someone when you feel lost for words. You’re there for them, even in the silence. And [i]that[/i] speaks volumes to someone like Decky. Who cares that you both go about the same thing differently? It’s not about who’s more right, who’s more wrong, or having all the answers. Pay attention and look outside yourselves for a moment, see what you actually do for people because you’re both so authentically yourselves. Stop explaining the why and the how, no one asked. You do enough. I’ll repeat myself: You. Do. Enough. And the Boaz boys, the Dawson boys, Ramón and myself, we all love you just the way you are. You are great where you are, and that should be enough.”[/color]

He understood the constant need to improve oneself and strive to be better, but it was also absolutely necessary to see your journey thus far and love the person you are today. Find comfort with yourself and the now. Something he learned a long time ago with Rye and JP was they both were restless, thinking about everything and nothing at all, focused on everyone else but in a rather self centered way. They were both healers, yes, but when they thought about the good they did, it was focused on their own metric system of self worth, rather than the difference they made in that other person’s life.

[color=d16aa8]“Why can’t that be enough?”[/color]

Rye took the group hug as an excuse to keep his head tucked down between JP and Pres, Ramón meeting his forehead with his own from the other side of the two taller boys. The men all stayed like that in silence for a moment, breathing in sync as Rye and JP gathered their thoughts. Before either could say anything, however, Ramón’s shoulders began shaking as a few giggles escaped his lips. Rye looked up at him questioningly, and Ramón shook his head with a smile.

[color=bb3a50]“Sorry,”[/color] He said shakily, like he was holding in more laughs. [color=bb3a50]“But like, [i]’I always feel like I missed conditioning for a sports season,’[/i]-”[/color] He lost the battle and laughed again. [color=bb3a50]“Sorry it was just so quiet and I started thinking of it and it’s just that…Gavriel you’ve never played a sport in your life. It was so weird to hear that and not say something right then and there, but we had to let you guys use your words first.”[/color]

[color=28e0af]“‘Món!”[/color] Rye squeaked out indignantly before clearing his throat as their circle broke. [color=28e0af]“Don’t dissect my rambles, they never make sense!”[/color] That just made Ramón laugh harder, the slight man falling against  Pres for balance as he tried to breathe. 

[color=bb3a50]“You’re eighty percent rambles,”[/color] He shot back teasingly. He knew exactly how to press any of his boyfriends’ buttons just enough for it to stay lighthearted while also succeeding in pulling them the rest of the way out of their own heads. Or pulling their heads out of their asses, depending on the situation. [color=bb3a50]“Are you saying you want me to ignore you eighty percent of the time? Did you switch up your kinks on us, cariño?”[/color]

[color=28e0af]“What, no!”[/color] Rye turned desperate puppy dog eyes towards JP. [color=28e0af]“JP I’m getting [i]bullied[/i],”[/color] the curly haired man whined, pointing childishly at Ramón. [color=28e0af]“This is unacceptable.”[/color]

JP didn’t respond with words. Not immediately. Rather he kissed Rye’s lips insistently and repeatedly, to take the breath right out of him. A passionate motion laced with adoration and worship. Freeing his lover, he gestured for the other two to do the same. To kiss him. With Preston, their shared souls intertwined sensually, while with Ramón, there was a feathery lightness to their loving embrace, extremely playful and spirited. While JP didn’t know how to respond to the conversation, he was still very much present and thankful for their company. He chose to show that with his honest smile and soulful lips. 

The four lovers in their own world were pulled out from their seclusion when a familiar voice laughed out loud and humored, [color=ff8000]“Man! Someone tell Danny to give me some of this love. My boy is oblivious as fuck.”[/color]

[color=3b776d]“Conan,”[/color] Lorelei elbowed her friend in the stomach as two members of the band made their presence known. [color=3b776d]“Sorry for interrupting. Eh-hem, we were getting a little hungry…”[/color]

[color=ff8000]“Yeah, are those sandwiches ready?”[/color]

[color=3b776d]“Don’t be rude,”[/color] Lala snapped, only being rewarded by an eye roll from the Dawson boy. 

[color=ff8000]“Oh most wondrous gay gods, can I has't the sandwiches thee did promise?”[/color]

[color=d16aa8]“Shit,”[/color] Pres mumbled under his breath, having gotten distracted and forgetting the main task at hand. None of these kids ate before coming here due to how last minute practice was fit in. Everyone got stupid busy this past week and there was no way JP would’ve been okay with having the band perform tonight without having one more practice. Ramón sent JP a look that said [i]’Distract’[/i].

[color=a8d16a]“One more song, then yes. You blow my mind and I’ll see if you deserve some delicious sandwiches from the PresMón cafe,”[/color] Jericho slipped out of all his lovers’ grasps, back in business mode. [color=a8d16a]“To add extra incentive, Rye was able to get some beignets from Beau earlier today. I know how much you love Beau’s beignets, Conan. Oh and just for you Lala, strawberry shortcake.”[/color]

[color=3b776d]“Really?”[/color] Lala looked at Rye for confirmation, as if she couldn’t believe someone would go out of their way for her.  

[color=28e0af]“Oh yeah,”[/color] Rye said with a blush, having completely forgotten the treats he’d gathered when he got off shift that morning and had a text from Ramón letting him know about the impromptu session. By now he knows the favorite treat for pretty much everyone in the room, and it just seemed like a nice thing to do in his tired brain. His heart, as it always does, ached when Lala’s disbelieving eyes fell on him, but he simply grinned at her and headed to the couch to grab the bag of treats he’d left to the side of it. He waved the bag back and forth enticingly, though not strong enough to disturb the pastries within. [color=28e0af]“One rockin’ recording for a rather scrumptious dessert for breakfast. Sounds like a good deal to me!”[/color]

[color=bb3a50]“And don’t think we didn’t hear that little comment, Conan Dawson,”[/color] Ramón cut in before the group could return to the booth, smirking with his hands on his hip. 

[color=28e0af]“Oh yeah,”[/color] Rye said for a second time, a devious smile overtaking his face and attention turning to the younger man. [color=28e0af]“You know you’ll have to tell him directly to his face how you feel or what you want, right? Oblivious as fuck is practically generous, that kid’s intelligence is geared almost entirely towards logic and numbers.”[/color]

[color=bb3a50]“You’re going to have to be honest with your emotions!”[/color] Ramón gushed, squishing himself up against Rye and holding his hand to his forehead as if he were swooning, making his curly haired lover laugh. [color=bb3a50]“Something the Boaz and Dawson brothers are [i]so[/i] well known for doing, right?”[/color]

[color=28e0af]“Listen, I've been watching this develop and then stagnate for [i]years[/i],”[/color] Rye added in agreement. He shrugged carelessly, Ramón’s head bobbing with the motion, and threw his arms over the latino’s shoulders to draw him in closer. Ramón smirked devilishly when Rye faux-whispered to him, [color=28e0af]“Some of us have bets going.”[/color]
 
[color=bb3a50]“[i]Oh,[/i] I need in on that.”[/color]

[color=ff8000]“Fuck off!”[/color] Conan cursed out loud and disappeared into the music room, along with Lala who had a wide smile on her face from the sight of cake. 

Practice would resume and hopefully Mr. Beau would love their music just as much as he loved telling his students stories. 

One could hope. [/indent][/indent][/color]