Nocturne

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No, nothing.

Really? Yes!

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Hey, wombie. -

Have you seen my score for the Saint-Saëns?

It's not in my folder.

Why would I know where your music is?

I don't know.

Sorry for daring to ask a question.

Are you done?

I need to borrow your phones. Mine are fucked.

Not like I'm getting anything done anyways.

You know what they say.

"Whoo-hoo. Spring break."

I'll be in my room.

- - Welcome.

No, no, no, wait. You have to go north.

They have these amazing vineyards.

It's, like, this wine country...

- Uh-huh. - Mm-hmm, yeah.

Uh, right next to Venice. What's it called?

- The Veneto. Well, that is an option.

- That's an option. Il Veneto.

- You got to get it right. Yes. -

Oh, hey.

Juju, sweetheart, you girls finished practice already?

Uh, Vi's still going.

Juliet's our youngest.

Oh, I thought you had twins.

Two minutes apart.

Someone has to hold the door. Right?

But we heard your news. Juilliard.

Congrats. That's incredible.

Uh, you're thinking of my sister Vi.

She's going to Juilliard next year.

Julie is taking the gap year to consider her options.

That's smart. You know what, I have a cousin.

He did fine arts, college, everything.

Eight years later, he's teaching preschoolers

- how to make things out of washi tape. Hey.

- Crafts are important. - I'm just saying,

there's eight billion people on this planet,

and everybody wants to have

their moment in the spotlight, and it's not gonna happen.

The Instagram generation needs to be more realistic

about long-term career prospects.

I don't have social media, so...

- See? Oh, good.

That's a start.

Dad, what time are we leaving tomorrow?

- Oh, whenever you want. They're at boarding school.

- Lindberg Academy. The arts school?

- Mm-hmm. - Isn't that where that girl...?

Hmm-mm-mm-mm-mm.

It's fine.

I didn't really know her.

Okay, hey, sweetie, make sure you got

everything ready for tomorrow.

Okay.

Nice to meet you. - Bye, guys.

- Um... okay. -

So, what was... I'm sorry, what was that place?

Max! Max!

- Hi. - Hey, Vi.

Yeah, no problem, Vi!

Just take your time!

Car will unload itself!

Young love.

A father's waking nightmare.

You got your pills?

All right, look.

I know the Juilliard thing hit you hard.

And they don't know what they're missing.

But no, listen to me.

You got a big heart.

You got a beautiful face.

- Dad. - And no matter what

those artistes in there tell you,

there's more to life than solos and spotlights.

And any academic school would kill to have you.

All right, I'll get your stuff.

Moira Wilson was one of the finest musicians

ever to grace Lindberg Academy.

For many of you, what happened here six weeks ago

will be your first experience of loss.

Moira's passing is a stark reminder

of the darkness we all face

in our lives and in our artistic pursuits.

As you all know, Moira was to deliver the concerto solo

in our Music Showcase later this quarter.

A long-standing school tradition,

the senior concerto has successfully launched

the careers of many Lindberg graduates over the years.

Following much discussion, we have decided

to rerun the senior concerto competition

- in her memory. -

Music majors of all disciplines are encouraged to participate.

Submit your repertoire to Dr. Cask.

So, you orch dorks horny for Hunger Games round two?

"Orch dorks"? I resent that.

Did you tell him the news?

Who says I don't know the news?

Um, were you in assembly?

Uh, I had shit to do.

They're rerunning the concerto.

In memory of Mad Moira.

Oh, my God, will you stop calling her that?

She carved symbols all over the wall and threw herself

out a third-floor window. Plus, she talked to what,

like, no one the entire time she was here?

And she was ambidextrous.

And that's relevant because...?

She wrote with both hands.

Inside out, like Leonardo da Vinci.

The chick was just new levels of freaky.

She was brilliant.

It's just weird, the competition.

I mean, she died six weeks ago.

Yeah, it's kind of soon,

but the showcase is a big opportunity.

I mean, someone else should get a chance.

Yeah, I heard Juilliard's sending scouts this year.

- Really? And my golden gal

is gonna wow them all again when she plays her concerto.

It's an open competition.

Oh, come on, you're with Cask.

Best teacher, best student.

Anyways, if you're asking for my completely unbiased opinion,

it should've been you the first time around.

Oh, so you pushed her.

- And then... Shut up!

And then she's just born for greatness.

It's all coming together.

You gonna change your entry?

It's too late.

And Roger won't let me.

Oh, you know what I think. Nobody...

"No one ever won anything with Mozart."

Jules, I say this lovingly as your sister:

Grow some balls.

Repeat after me:

Roger Melling, you are a drunken,

cockless excuse of a teacher...

- Okay, I can't actually say that, though, can I? - Why?

You're scared he'll set the claw on you?

Okay, stop.

It's focal dystonia, and it's common in musicians his age.

The claw. It's gonna get you.

Hey, you dropped...

- Phrasing. -

Good. Very good.

I see you managed to fit in some practice

between all the drugs and the underage drinking.

I leave the drinking to the experts.

Very funny.

- They're rerunning the concerto. - So I hear.

Feeling positive?

I was thinking about changing my piece.

I've been looking at Saint-Saëns' 2.

Third movement still needs work, but I can get there.

- You mean Vivian's piece? - It's not that hard.

Cask lets Vi play it.

Henry's methods are his own.

I know, but if I just get the chance...

You'd make a pig's ear of it.

Is that what you want?

Stick with Herr Amadeus.

He will reward you. He always does.

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Uh, Dr. Cask?