Arthur's one of the bright lights of the conservatory, but he's sharing the stage with a star about to go supernova.

"Music is the silence between the notes" ~ Claude Debussy; or, life is what happens when you're busy wishing you could be in a practice room.

Set very shortly after "Ach, des Knaben Augen".

Arthur’s face shifts from interrogatory focus to something soft and slack and longing, almost within a bare second.

Arthur loves Daniel, he truly does; but it’s Eames. There’s no point in drawing a comparison. It’s not apples and oranges. It’s apples and Goethe, apples and Rachmaninoff.

"I'm next," Eames says. "If you don't smother me in blankets and tape me together my voice will be no use to you either. I'll probably sing in French instead of German or something equally disastrous."

When Eames travels, the thought of Arthur travels with him.

The story of ‘happily ever after.’

This isn't an old theory assignment; that much was clear from the instant Eames pulled it out, folded unevenly, from where it had been pressed between the pages of Thayer's dreary Beethoven tome.

Being a freshman piano performance major at a prestigious New England conservatory is difficult enough without landing the school's star baritone as your singer, and inevitably, your hopeless crush.