PettyPettyPetty by Llawlietz
That's what the atmosphere in this hall is like. Never mind the mouldy walls or dodgy wiring, or the toilets that no one dares venture into. This hall might be all we can afford, but none of that matters. From the first note to the last, there's me, standing on a pile of mildewy phone books, and them, the players, arranged in a vague arc around me on those red plastic chairs you only find in schools and hospitals. And then there's the music, this multi-layered alive thing we're creating.
Garrett is late. His chair is empty, and even if I shut my eyes I'd still feel his absence. There's a gap in the music, a gaping hole where our first violinist should be, and I'll admit it pisses me off to no end. The hall doors behind me swing open, but I don't bother turning around - I already know who it is. The other violinists glance at each other and roll their eyes to confirm it anyway.
I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing we're waiting for him. We s