Kate clicked open the latches on her violin case and gingerly removed the instrument. Unlike the sketchbook she carried everywhere with her, she actually treated her violin with respect. It wasn’t beat up, nothing was broken on it, and it worked just as well as the day it had been gifted to her. The same could not be said of the sketchbook. That poor thing was bent at the corners (despite the fact that it had a hard cover on it), the wire binding was squished in some spots and entirely out of shape, and some of the pages were hanging loose on the inside. Of course, the sketchbook didn’t have a pretty little case like the violin did and was often just thrown haphazardly into her backpack, but she was still thankful she had an idea of what deserved greater respect.
Lifting the instrument to her chin, she gently removed the bow from its pocket and drew it across the strings. It made a happy little sound, causing her to smile. She played a quick scale before pulling out the latest orchestra music. It was a section from Beethoven’s Violin Concerto in D Major. While parts of the song did sound a little melancholy, Kate liked the music. It was constantly changing, constantly painting a different picture. That appealed very strongly to the artistic side of the girl, which was, honestly, a large part of her. She loved pictures and music that could elicit strong emotions.
Setting the pages where she could see them properly, she began to play. The sounds filled her room and her mind as she continually drew the bow across the strings. Halfway through the third page, though, something caught her attention. There was other music. It was soft and normally wouldn’t bother her, but the notes clashed horribly with Beethoven. They seemed too modern. Kate stopped playing just long enough to listen to the other notes. After a while, she determined that they were coming from a guitar not too far away. Opening her door, she peeked down the hall in the direction of the common room. Someone was clearly playing down there.
Violin still in hand, she walked down the hall, following the sound of the music. Reaching the common room, she stood slightly off to the side, watching the young man play. He was certainly an interesting fellow with longer hair and quite a few tattoos, but he did know how to play. Kate at least had to give him that. She listened carefully for a few minutes, trying to place the song. When she couldn’t, she at least focused on the notes. Raising her violin again, she began to play along, trying to find a harmony to match the guitar.