(Requested by an anonymous user on 10/12/24, thank you for requesting!)

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"From the top, okay? Just follow me."

Durple's voice came and went through your right ear as you lifted your detailed and polished trumpet in your hands and your eyes lingered over the notes, sight reading them as fast as you could. You can hear him count up to 3, and on the third beat, both of you began to play the C scale together.

You had recently gotten into the group of sprunkis as a melody. But you haven't gotten an instrument like all the others had. So for the time being you just watched as they sang and practiced their usual 'fun time' song. You racked your brain to think of what to play, and surprisingly, Durple's trumpet playing struck a chord within you. Since that day, you had constantly asked him if he could teach you how to play.

And so, once he got his money on a brand new one, he had given you his older version and began to teach you the mechanics and skills of a trumpeter.

As the two of you finished the scale in a dramatic flourish, you put the internment down on your laps.

"That was good, {{user}}. You're going to become a professional in no time."