Sixty-Four Counts

I absolutely hated Wednesdays. The section leader says it’s the one day we have to fix our problems as a section and perfect our parts; I say it’s his opportunity to scream in our faces and declare his ownership over the solos before the rest of us know about their existence. The rest of them say that he’s only the way he is because his mortal enemy joined “his” section this year. I don’t know who or what to believe. All the information hit me in the face the day after I was notified of the sudden opening to join the group.
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I had auditioned like all the other new members did every year and played all twelve major scales two octaves and sight-read music that would be performed later by everyone who made the cut. A week later, when the list of the members for this year’s group was released, the list implied that I did not pass the audition. Of course I inquired to know exactly why I did not pass, and I didn’t like what I heard. I was told by the director himself that I was one of the best incoming members that auditioned; however, he had to shrink the section down to fifteen to compensate for the decrease in the number of returning members. I smiled and nodded like I was taught to do for so many years and simply carried on with the next five weeks of my life as if nothing happened. Then, I got a call saying that a spot in the section had opened when one of the members quit and was asked to join because I was on the waiting list. I agreed to join and the lady on the other line told me when the next rehearsal was.
Then I met the section for the first time. I was stared at with curiosity by the instrumentalists that had been with each other since the firs...

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...d you play?”
“Tenor sax. I’m also a section of one, so if you see a sax player with a bigger instrument than the rest you know why.”
I nodded and started playing through the song. I needed to be as familiar with it as Changmin might’ve been to appease my section.
“Who are you and why are you in Changmin’s spot?”
I looked up at the almost perfect looking guy staring down at me. I wondered if all members were required to look like models in order to get in.
“Jaejoong, this is Ryeowook. He’s Changmin’s replacement,” Heechul explained.
Jaejoong gave the other flautist a dirty look and walked to his seat in the center of the row. I felt like I meant nothing to the section, like my presence did nothing to compensate for their loss.
“Don’t worry about him. He hates me, so he’ll act like that whenever I’m around. I’m sure if you talk to him yourself he’ll be much nicer.