xp_logs | Ashley, Jono, music room

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Ashley and Jono run into each other in the music room, and talk music and careers.

Jono hadn't felt settled since being exposed to the wormhole. He didn't like being treated like a child just because he was inexperienced with his powers. He had more experience with them than anyone else in the chapel- they didn't understand. If anything had come in there to hurt them he could have stopped it- he could have used his powers for something good- protected someone instead of destroying them. He'd just wanted to maybe feel good for once. His fingers itched and he stared at his guitar case across the room before relaxing his shoulders. It was worth a shot....it used to make him feel better at least.

Jono picked up his guitar and grabbed his amp, and carefully followed the hallways towards the music room where he could get set up and maybe work on the riff from This Charming Man- The Smiths always made things better.

Ashley had finished yoga, which was so boring but she had a dance teacher who would be so happy she finally was doing it now, so she guessed it was good for her career in two ways now, and frankly, was -bored-.. Taking a semester off was great, no homework, no papers, lots of time to do.. yoga and use the resistance bands and reluctantly lift weights in the gym and complain about it the entire time, and swim, and she wasn't really doing more exercise, but none of it was dance. Yet. Once she had swum and yoga'd and lifted enough weights that she could stop breaking every shoe she owned with a heel, she would find that dance room.

For now, she had other exercises. Even a semester off, she had self-assigned homework, vocal warmups, scales, a good belt from her chest voice if she could loosen up a little. Breaking everything didn't mean she had any excuse to let her voice get rusty. She needed that voice.

The first thing she done after moving in and unpacking and moving a ton of weird food out of her freezer (and keeping a bunch of it, free food!) was find out where there was a music room. This was a friggin mansion, there was one. She just knew it - and she was right, it was on the map she'd been sent.

She heard guitar before she went in - and barged right on in, mindful of the door, but equally unmindful that the guitarist might want privacy. He was pretty good, and she intended to clap once he was done.

Jono didn’t immediately notice Ashley’s entrance to the room, and continued playing. He was a bit rusty but didn’t let himself restart when he messed up. That’s not how you learned fluency, that’s how you formed playing habits that would bite you in the arse later. When he finished the song he furrowed his brow, taking a pencil to the tablature on the stand in front of him to mark the sections he needed to work on.

Once she saw the jacket, and the bandages, she knew, this was Jono, the guy who thought he would blow up. She still didn't understand that, but his face looked a little weird, flat and sloped under his nose and she looked away after what felt like staring for too long and she really hoped it wasn't as long as it felt. "You're really good. I only really know piano and violin but I know good, and you're really good.' She finally said, trying to cover the staring with a genuine appreciation for the music.

Jono startled and dropped his pencil. When had someone come in? How long had they been listening to him? His notebook was several feet away in his guitar case. He turned to her and nodded awkwardly, trying to make it known that she was heard. He really needed to learn sign language.

"How long have you played for?" Um. I know you can't really answer." Ashley said, start-stopping her question once she remembered. "I never got the hang of violin, but I know it took me forever to get any good at piano and you're good, so I guess... a while. Years?' She squinted at Jono. "Is it hard to learn? I mean I can't really, even if I wanted to, but guitar was like one of the few things my parents wouldn't cough up money for. That and flute but that was in the like, five minutes before I realized that unless you're Lizzo you're not playing flute and singing."

Jono held up one finger and then moved to his case, grabbing his notebook before coming back. Quickly he scribbled. Played since I was a kid, used to be in a band. Left my light writer in my room, sorry. I know my penmanship is utter shite.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes, she was trying to be nice it wasn’t her fault he was among the most easily annoyed men on earth. any instrument takes hard work, dedication, and consistency to learn.

"And probably hands that don't rip doors off hinges." Ashley added, a laugh only adding to the bitterness in her voice. "I was - I wanted to - I want to apologize kind of, I was really pushy about you not blowing yourself up when we were all together. I just don't think you should have to, even if you're dangerous. Nobody should have to die for what they are. Not ever. I don't think anyone should have told you that. But I was really pushy about it, and that was rude."

Hard to die when you’re already dead. Jono stared at her for a moment. I would have been fine, just a lot of fire toward whatever came our way.

He paused, tapping the pencil against the notebook. It was nice. I’m not used to people caring anymore.

"I don't think dead people can write." Ashley said abruptly. "Sorry, we had a whole argument at temple once about zombies and if they're corpses or not." She sat down on the piano bench, careful to not touch the piano itself, they were expensive. "I don't think you're a zombie, or dead really, is what I mean. I think you're alive and just on fire. Ugh, I am so bad at this. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry and that your music was cool."

I don’t breathe. Jono wrote. The only reason I know I still have lungs is because I can see them in the shower in my chest cavity which is constantly open. You don’t have to be sorry. But, and I’m not trying to be mean that’s just my normal state of being. You like the Smiths? You don’t look the type, seem more…ABBA-y.\

"They're really not my type of music at all.' Ashley agreed. "But. There was a jukebox musical, oh, before I was born, called Some Girls are Bigger Than Others." She grinned, wide and confident, all teeth and stage presence and pointed at herself, hint of a double chin and round face and pale thick arms. " And it has nothing to do with being fat or tall, but about every third emo drama kid has told me about it, so I looked them up and that's how I found out my dad did a bunch of goth stuff when he was in high school."

I’m going to cut you some slack on the goth line given that my band once did a photo shoot in a cemetery. Jono teased, or tried to, he hoped the crinkle in his eye didn’t just look like he was squinting at her. My ex flatmate’s boyfriend was into the musical. I’m familiar. So what do you listen to? Showtunes then?

"Oh, no I listen to a little of everything. Pop, R&B, country-pop, k-pop, okay a lot of pop" She counted down on her fingers. "Classic rock, a little hip-hop but it's not really-really my thing... theatre isn't just showtunes, even if there is a lot of that. I'm gonna tell my dad somebody here is into the same music he was but is my age and he's gonna be so happy but you gotta imagine this goth Jewish kid with the black eyeliner and the lip piercing but also a kippah. Also black." Ashley said, with a giggle. "He's all polo shirts and jeans now, but he was cool I guess, once."

They don't make music like they used to. Jono wrote. For modern stuff I mostly listen to independent bands- not too fond of the current label sound.

"I like some of it, it depends. Sometimes an artist has to, you know, kinda toe the line." Ashley said. "I mean, people eyeroll, but Miley had to be Hannah Montana before she could write Flowers. Okay, maybe bad example, she's a nepo baby, literally her godmom is Dolly Parton, but like..." She pursed her lips, clearly thinking. "Like Kesha's a better example. Totally manufactured sound, but you look at where she came from and it makes sense, and as soon as she broke away from her album, everything was a lot more thoughtful, emotive. But you can't like, always get to here without going there first."

"But that's the problem." Jono typed. "Objectively mediocre musicians are pushed forward by labels because their look sells or they fit a trend. The industry is no longer about the art, that's why shite like Taylor Swift sells when her singing is average at best, her lyricism is fine if you squint, and she can barely perform at the standard of other musicians in her age group. She's a brand not an artist. And the industry forces them to abandon the art. They don't make music like they used to because they can't. The industry is full of sell outs who appeal to aesthetic over artistic integrity. Labels stop pushing you when you break free from the manufactured mold, so there's no incentive to do so if you want to be successful, especially when we see what happens to artists who dare to push those boundaries. It's all about money. It's fucking embarrassing."

"I mean you're not wrong, but I won't write off somebody just because they're under a label." Ashley sat herself down on a piano bench, and picked through a tune. "Big labels suck, but artists don't, and when we write somebody off as sell-outs that's how we get an entire population who doesn't believe Kesha was assaulted. But commercial music, - or really writing my own songs isn't my goal. I like the music I like and I'm okay with that." She adjusted her fingers, cracked a knuckle, and the tune became Trevor's Song from Lizard Boy. "But if you ever want a full chested rant about Andrew Lloyd Webber, I will deliver. I don't even hate him, he seems like a nice old man, but he has really chosen money over art."

"You still have hope. Hold onto that, if you pay attention to the industry it'll be crushed within three year's time." Jono typed. "And I'm happy to give you song recommendations to make your dad happy. Since apparently he and I listen to the same music."

"Oh I don't have hope." Ashley said, and for a moment, let a scowl show and then replaced it with a serene smile, full of artifice. "I've been doing theater since I was ten. I'm a fat queer jewish woman, I'm already typecast. Tracy Turnblad, Jennyanydots. Fanny Bryce if I'm lucky. The whole reason I do indie theatre is because I know what I'm getting into. I've known since forever. You don't look the way I look and not know. You don't do modeling and theatre and choir and not know. I have to be uncrushable, Jono and I mostly already am."

“Good.” Jono’s eyes crinkled a bit in a smile, even if he couldn’t fathom why someone like Ashley didn’t give up on labels like he had. “Now, I can’t sing anymore, obvious reasons, but anyone ever teach you how to get that Joan Jett rasp to your voice safely without smoking? Happy to help if you wanna learn.”

'Yes.' Ashley's eyes were huge for a moment. "Absolutely yes, please and thank you!"