ladiekatie:

lemonsharks:

classicstarlite:

actualmodel:

One of my neighbours slipped this under my door while I was practising, I thought they were going to make a noise complaint but they just had a request. I played it with my windows open and I heard really loud clapping come from a balcony a few stories up which was super lovely. I’m in such a lovely mood now it’s so nice to be appreciated.

Why is this the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen?

IMAGINE YOUR OTP

When Claudia bought Stiles a farting keyboard when he was 3, he never thought it would lead him to Julliard.

It’s well into Stiles second year at the most prestigious art school in the country, and he’s living it up in an apartment a few blocks from campus. Sure his apartment is tiny, and he shares it with three other people, but it works. He’s got his vertical piano set up in the living room, and a mess of electronic keyboards, amps and extra long electrical cords under his bed for the days he goes and plays in the subways or parks. 

He practices mostly during the day, when people are more likely to be at work and not annoyed by his piano.He could very well practice on his keyboards with headphones, but there is something about having a real piano, with real sound. It’s a great day so he opens the window and overlooks the courtyard in the middle of the complex, letting his music sail up the walls of the concourse to the sky for his mom to hear. 

The music of the city fills in the space between making notes on his sheet music. Dogs barking, sirens, people yelling, even a car accident in the streets below. 

Stiles’ hand float over the keys and with practiced movements create the melody that the sheets ask him to. It doesn’t go without a few missed keys, and a couple of restarts, but it’s just practice. It’ll be worth it when he plays it at the school symphony in a month. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Stiles wonders which of his roommates forgot their key, and how lucky they were that he didn’t decide to join Erica to the park jam sessions. 

Before he even gets to the door, he sees a slip of paper on the floor. He picks it up, confused as to why there would be a note just on the floor. 

“a humble request to the pianist: 

Liebestraum No. 3 In A Flat

“ is all it says. It sends butterflies down to his stomach. He’s never gotten a request like this before. He wonders who could have sent it. The handwriting would suggest a man, and Stiles is willing to bet he’s hot, and if he’s into classical music? Stiles lets himself develop a crush on the anonymous patron. 

Stiles googles the song, always up for a challenge and ready for a little break from the piece he’s been working. He finds the sheet music with no problem, worried he was going to have to look in one of the university’s databases and sends the sheets to the printer. 

Once the pages are set up on the stand of one of his electric keyboards he starts to fiddle through it. It puts his sight reading to practice and soon he gets the first dozen measures down and moves on. He’s using a keyboard so he can control the volume so the audience doesn’t have to hear his fenageling. 

He gets the song down in an hour and goes to set up on the vertical piano. 

“Umm, hi. I hope you’re listening!” Stiles calls out of the window. “Enjoy!” He sits down and takes a breath in and out before he starts playing the song. 

The song floats out of the piano and into the outside air. It’s sweet, and somehow sad at the same time. The deep notes slow while the higher notes fast. It’s a magical piece and Stiles will definitely be playing it more. If not for the enjoyment of his patron, but for himself. It’s different than the pixar scores he got used to playing. 

Cars continue to honk, and someone yells “shut up!” from somewhere down below. Stiles has learned to ignore them and he keep playing. He moves with the music, his head looking at the sheet above but also feeling the music through his body. 

The song slows at the end, and Stiles lets his eyes fall closed while the music falls to it’s end. The last notes are bittersweet, like it’s the end of the song, but the beginning of a story.

It’s quiet for a few moments. A lone clap comes from outside the window. Stiles quickly gets up and looks over his piano to see who is clapping. There are a set of hands clapping from the window directly above him. Stiles thanks them, and retreats back into his own apartment to finish is work before heading into class. 

Stiles isn’t surprised when there is another knock on the door a few days later. He’s expecting another note. When there isn’t one one the floor he is forced to open the door to see who it is (someone painted over the peephole years ago and the landlord is to cheap to replace it). Stiles is surprised to see a man standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Umm, hi?” Stiles says, not sure what to make of it. The dude is hot, but that doesn’t mean Stiles has to make a fool of himself. 

“Are you the pianist?” The dude asks looking at Stiles with the most beautiful eyes, his glasses only make them bigger so Stiles can see every color that is in them. 

“Yes? Am I being too loud? I’m sorry, it’s just the practice rooms on campus are always full and I forget to sign up for time in them. I’ll keep it down I promise I-”

“It’s okay,” he says. 

“I’ll stop leaving the window open too,” Stiles adds. “Our A/C is broken so we have to open it to get cool air in here.” He lies. 

“No don’t worry about it. I actually live right above you? I hear you practice all the time, I even uhh-” his cheeks turn red but its hard to see because his beard is covering most of his jaw and cheeks, “I requested 

Liebestraum a few days ago?”

“Oh! That was you?” Stiles replies. 

“Yeah, I just wanted to say that I really love your work. I think you’re really good. I’m Derek by the way,” the guy-Derek- puts his hand out for Stiles to shake. 

“I’m Stiles,” he takes it, “nice to meet you.” Stiles smiles at Derek and watches as a smile makes it’s way onto his face. 

The beginning of a story indeed.