Strings Of Harmony

♫13♫ His Mood Swings Are Worse Than When A Girl Is PMSing

As stated in the previous chapter, here is the last chapter that I will post before I'm off to vacation! Next update will probably be around 7/10 or 7/11. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and it'd be awesome if you could vote/comment. :D

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Chapter Thirteen

His Mood Swings Are Worse Than When A Girl Is PMSing

Sterling and I didn’t finish our pizza until eight in the evening. After paying for our food, we started to make our way back towards the hotel, except it took us two hours, since we kept stopping every now and then to take some pictures and do some sightseeing.

“Look at this statue!” said Sterling, as he ran up to it. “My idol!”

“What is?” I asked, as I backed out of the camera app on my phone.

“Look!”

I turned around to face Sterling. “Is that Mozart?” I asked, as I scrutinized the statue. It was a yucky green color—like the one the Statue of Liberty sports—and it was sculpted into the figure of an old man with old-fashioned clothing. He was modeled into a studious-looking stature and he had his hands behind his back.

“Not really,” said Sterling. “It’s actually Beethoven, as you can see right here.” Sterling pointed at the huge bronze letters that decorated the podium the statue was situated on top of.

“I was close,” I said.

“Not even.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. They were all classical composers.”

“With slightly different music techniques: Mozart had a more conservative sound to his music than did Beethoven…oh, and did I mention that Beethoven’s music were also more dramatic?”

“That’s uh, interesting…do you take music theory at school or something? You sound like a music nerd.”

“Yeah,” he said, sheepishly. “I know how to play the cello, the drums, the electric guitar—and the acoustic guitar, since they are practically the same thing—and the piano.”

“Wow. You’re really talented. I could never learn that many instruments; I mean, I probably could, but then I’d end up forgetting how to play half of them.”

Sterling chuckled. “I come from a musical family…Maybe that’s why.”

“Is one of your parents a musician?”

“Actually, both. Mom’s an opera singer and dad’s a drummer. He’s in his own band called ‘The Clucksters’—and don’t ask me why my dad and his friends thought of that for a band name, but they just did.”

I giggled. “That’s a funny name.”

Sterling smiled. “Tell me about it. But they were only thirteen at the time, so who could blame them?” Sterling shook his head amusingly. “Oh, hey, you should like, take a picture of me with Beethoven.” He handed me his phone and then got into position with the statue. He held up a peace sign and stuck his tongue out.

“Wow, if Beethoven was still alive, he’d probably laugh at how stupid and goofy you look,” I said, as I rolled my eyes. I pressed the snapshot button and then handed the phone back to Sterling.

“We should take one together,” he said, as he looked at the photo I took.

“Nah, I don’t really—”