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Introduction
Welcome to St. Gabrielles Catholic Boarding School located in Bangor, Maine. At St. Gabrielles we promote a supportive and diverse atmosphere that encourages all of our young men to recognize their potential and to appreciate the qualities that make each of them unique.

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Disclaimer: All characters, dates, events, and beliefs are completely fictional. Any similarities to actual events are completely coincidental. They do not represent the opinions, beliefs, or lifestyles of the pictured models nor of any of St. Gabrielles' affiliates.
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 Is it Friday yet?, Fable, Lami, Miki, Rema--aw hell, anyone
Mr. Messian King
Posted: Sep 10 2010, 01:53 PM


The Token Jew


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 74
Member No.: 257
Joined: 28-August 10



((Ok just a quick review: 3 paragraph cap, less is fine, no posting order just be polite and don't trample anyone. This is an exercise in brevity and humor! LET THE GAMES COMMENCE))

If ever there was a moment when Mr. King wished he could pause time, that moment would be now. Well, perhaps not just pause time because that would mean he would still have to participate in the coming hour once time had resumed its normal pace. Maybe the power he was truly wishing for at the moment was one that would enable him to skip ahead forty-five minutes to the end of this class when he could be free from the students who inhabited it. Like any teacher there were good days and bad days with each class, but in this one there was always something going on. At best they were entertaining, at worst… Well Messian wasn’t sure he had seen their worst yet and he was hoping he never would.

He never turned his back fully to any class, his first day had taught him that much, and so it was from an awkward sideways position that he was writing chord progressions on his whiteboard—one where he had created permanent staff lines in black electrical tape. He was demonstrating a plagal cadence of which J.S. Bach was famous for and the students were hopefully taking notes. “This chord is what musicians refer to as the Sub-Dominant and it resolves, or ends, back at the Tonic which is a chord built on the first note of the scale. You don’t have to pay too much attention to the technical part, just know what two chords are needed for a plagal cadence.” Sub-dominant... he'd never realized how dirty some musical terms sounded until he had started teaching music to horny teenage boys.

Sometimes he worried if he was talking over his students’ heads, he had been a sophomore in college when he’d started to learn this crap, but it was possible to grasp the concept earlier on. He scanned the class, checking for understanding, note taking, or any other form of comprehension before moving on.
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Santiago R. Villalobos
Posted: Sep 11 2010, 08:00 PM


Unregistered









Santiago was in a bad mood today.

No surprise there, but instead of looking blank and cool, he was actually PISSED today. Why, might you ask? Well, because this mood was becoming a rather normal in this school. There hadn't been a day where something bad didn't happen to him! Not to mentions that the idiots that pass for students and teachers where pissing him off. Small things even, stuff that should not piss anyone off. Santiago was glaring at an piece of paper which started as notes that Mr. King was so eloquently talking about but soon it had turned to doodles. He was sitting in the front row of the class, but more to the side, where it was still isolated and no one would bug him. Or so he hoped.

“This chord is what musicians refer to as the Sub-Dominant....." King said and Santiago glanced up, a confused look on his face. How the hell where they suddenly talking about tonics and sub dominant whatever? Every one else probably took it pervertedly but he just glared, annoyed at Messian. wasn't this supposed to be a fucking music history class?...Or was it theory? "Carajo!" he muttered the curse, maybe a bit to loudly as he tried to catch up, looking rather flustered.
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Neil Hall
Posted: Sep 12 2010, 08:39 AM


Unregistered









Neil Hall was not a musical person. Not to say that he did not enjoy music, oh no! He loved almost every type of music he has come across from around the world and from different cultures. He likes listening to them and changing between genres and locations. Nope, Neil definitely liked music, it’s just that he himself is not musical. At all. By this, it means that there is no instrument in existence that Neil can not play or use without making it sound like a dying baby giraffe. At least, that’s what his dad always said. His mom always encouraged him to try others and more until he found the right one. Neil was somehow caught in between of agreeing with them both.

So, sitting in Mr. Messian King’s music class (history, Neil believes, because that’s all he’s ever interested in, no matter what type of history it is,) Neil finds his eyes very difficult to keep open. Really, they feel like they weigh pounds and there’s no way to not close them. So as it is, Neil is supporting his head with the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the desk, as he fights off the drowsiness that is persistent to claim him. He can hear Mr. King speaking, something about dominance, and drawing on black lines, but nothing is staying in Neil’s head. The sounds go through one ear and out the other, not a single grasp of understanding made.

A sudden pain hits his chin and tingles its way up his head and into his scalp and skull before he shoots back up. His head must’ve slipped for that second of closing his eyes and nodding off. Jeez, this was tougher than he thought. Stifling a rather large yawn behind his hand, the Aussie heard in the far off distance (which was really just in front of him) a foreign swear word. A soft and lazy chuckle escaped him as he felt his eyes start to droop again.
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Teller Nieves
Posted: Sep 12 2010, 10:03 PM


talk with your hips


Group: Junior
Posts: 127
Member No.: 126
Joined: 1-March 09



If the point of a dress code was to avoid distractions from the students in his class, then Teller was not only spiting in the face of said code, but he was also acting with every intention of doing just that. It wasn't, of course, that he didn't like Mr. King; quite the opposite, in fact. But Teller just couldn't sit there and behave nicely, let alone dress nicely. His uniform (which, in a silent acknowledgement to his fondness of Dr. Olivier, he was now wearing) was altered almost to be beyond recognition; it had been tightened and tapered, panels cut out of the sides and replaced with black laces. Buttons and pins and clips scattered over the lapels and, of course, he wore it half-way open, tattooed chest displayed to anyone who chose to look.

Not only that, but he was sitting there, blatantly texting, sucking on an electric blue lollipop. He sent the message, looking up at the board smugly. He sat low in his seat, a sexy kind of nonchalant slouch, smirking up at their teacher. Oh, he was just too good to pass up.

"I've heard you like playing sub-dominant, Mr. King. Or do you prefer playing dominant to the tonic? Which fingering is easier?" He took his lollipop out of his mouth to talk. The way Teller speaks put the dirty implications behind the words that could, easily, be spoken innocently. He eyed the teacher challengingly, the boys tittering around him.
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Mr. Messian King
Posted: Sep 13 2010, 01:32 PM


The Token Jew


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 74
Member No.: 257
Joined: 28-August 10



Messian took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. "I could say I've heard the same thing about you, Mr. Nieves, but during class is hardly the time and place to be talking about it. If I see that cellphone again, it will be mine until the end of school today. And I heard that, Mr. Villalobos." Messian added, sending A LOOK towards both Santiago and Neil that the Argentinian would undoubtedly be quite familiar with. What was going on with those two? He'd heard rumors but who knew if that actually meant anything. He also sent a quiet thought of thanks to both Baptiste and Braelyn. Without their guidance and bolstering, a comment like that a week ago would have meant class ended early, Messian too flustered to continue. Progress felt good.

He left the chords he had written up on the board and moved to a clean space to continue his lecture. 1685 to 1750 he wrote next, capping the pen and tapping the dates after he finished. "Bach died in 1750 and the year of his death is also considered to be the end of the Baroque Period." He paused a moment to let them catch up with their note taking--or lollipop sucking--before throwing them a bone. "Between his two wives, J.S. Bach had twenty children, though only ten actually survived into adulthood."
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Oliver Basset
Posted: Sep 22 2010, 04:42 AM


Member


Group: Junior
Posts: 47
Member No.: 248
Joined: 10-July 10



Unlike every other student in poor Messian King's class, Oliver Aro Basset was a huge, devoted fan to music and all of its colorful history and theory. Sitting in his seat in the middle of the class, near the front but not too close, he was listening quite attentively to Mr. King and writing neat notes in a chartreuse spiral notebook. The pen was of the purple ballpoint variety, each page filled with tidy staff lines dotted with notes, little arrows pointing out important bits and tons of writing on plenty of shit he found fascinating. Instruments weren't his thing, however. Of course Oliver knew how to play a couple; with an aristocratic upbringing, you would too. It explained his long, dainty fingers, obviously so slender from years of playing piano and violin. However, he wasn't particularly taken by either of these instruments, much preferring the unique sound of his own voice.

One would assume that the favorite sound of a narcissistic nymphomaniac such as Oliver would be his own moans; false. Well, not quite. He does love the sound of his sex cries, but his singing is far more angelic and melodious. It's a surprising trait for most people, nobody would really think Oliver had interests besides money and sex. But he totally does. He's still completely obsessed with money and sex. That much is obvious from the dark designer jeans hugging his long, crossed legs snugly, the expensive royal purple Banana Republic cardigan, Lacoste slip-ons... he paid a lot of money to get out of wearing that god awful uniform. And even as he soaked in the education he was receiving, his eyes studied his teacher's body. He loved it when his educators were hot, it was such a plus.

The brunette tucked a lock of wayward chestnut behind his ear, his attention snapping away from Mr. King and to the rowdy and immature student body he found himself a part of. However, he couldn't help stopping the smirk pulling at those plush lips of his. Oh, Teller. It was moments like this where he remembered what exactly had ever attracted him to the Korean boy. Well... the snarkiness definitely wasn't the only appealing thing about him, Oliver decided as he turned a bit in his chair to cast Teller a provocative little smirk - a personal applaud to his mouthy outburst. Sexy fucker. Well, that brought out the imp in Oli, so he folded his hands in his lap and looked up at Mr. King with the perfect picture of innocence upon his sweet face. "Oh, that's a shame, sir. Did they not have proper contraception back then? Or did Bach's extraordinary sub-dominance rip through the condom?"

(sorry that was stupid long... bad case of restless fingers!)
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Santiago R. Villalobos
Posted: Sep 23 2010, 01:23 AM


Unregistered









The Argentine knew that look all to well and he just glared back at Mess, but muttered an apology and then quickly glancing back at Neil, who seemed to also be zoning out, and looking back down at his notes and doodles. This was not good. He was usually a good student in everything except math, and now he did not need to fail another class and get himself held back. That would hurt his pride to much. When Messian King had said history of music!...He calmed himself down, pouting slightly as he began to quickly copy down whatever was on the board, in his mind thinking about staying after class. But alas, that one guy Teller just had to go off. Typical day at St. Gabes. He noted dully that Mess would probably be wrestling with this guy. Better not....mess with him to much. Then there was Oliver, Mr. Rich boy. The guy had an air of aristocracy, only to be followed by the ugly rumors . Stuff he heard in the halls. Santiago mentally noted; not good to mess with. He could tell he would dislike Oliver and Teller, but they where....interesting. How could they both be so shameless? Especially with remarks like that.

So while Mr. King was not looking, he scribbled something quickly down on paper, ripped and balled it and while he thought no one was looking, he threw it behind his shoulder, only to land on Neil's messy head.

The note said:

Amuse me. __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __ __

And he had drawn a hanging block.
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Neil Hall
Posted: Sep 23 2010, 10:42 PM


Unregistered









To say that Neil’s attention was on the class would be a lie. Sure, he was listening to the curriculum - since he didn’t believe in writing notes in any history class because he pushed himself to remember directly what he had to know- but not the actual class itself, or the lecturing look Mr. King sent. And even if he had, the Australian still probably would not have realized the sexual innuendos brought forth by Teller and Oliver to Mr. Messian King. At this point it seemed that instead of learning more about sexual implications behind almost every word spoken by the male student population, it just flew over Neil’s messy head like a soft breeze. A bit of a shame, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him - much. Besides, his curly-strawberry head was already filled with information he wanted. Sure, knowing how to find water when trapped in a forest or desert isn’t useful now, or being able to name a lot of different towns and cities with their coordinates doesn’t help with music, but that’s what he liked.

Blinking the sleepiness out of his blurry blue eyes, the mop top looked down at the crumpled piece of paper innocently rolled up on his desk (like it hadn’t just fallen from his head after a direct hit). Sitting straight in his seat, cracking his back in the process and stretching his long limbs, Neil glanced up to the back of the head of Santiago. Then, without further ado, smoothed the paper out and read the note. A small smile twitched at the corners of his lips and he had to suppress a chuckle from breaking out of him, but it still shone through his now alert eyes. Going along couldn’t do much damage. Slouching nonchalantly back in his seat, Neil slipped a pen out his pocket and rubbed his chin in thought. He had shaved that morning, but it seemed like he was already getting some stubble back (a background thought of his wondered what he’d look like in a week of no shaving). Making up his mind, Neil scribbled his response. Afterward he folded it up into an uneven square; acting like he was stretching his arms forward, he poked Santiago’s shoulder with the hand that held the note.

Neil’s response to the ten spaces was as follows: ‘A, B, E, C, S, I ?’ Along with the attempts of ‘Music Rules?’ and ‘Eat Cookies?’ and ‘Pianos Rock?’ and ‘Classicals?’ and ‘Garbage Day?’ and ‘I Love Bunny?’
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Mr. Messian King
Posted: Sep 29 2010, 06:38 PM


The Token Jew


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 74
Member No.: 257
Joined: 28-August 10



New seating chart. He would write a new seating chart for Monday, that was all there was to it. What had possessed him to put Teller and Oliver close enough together to make eye contact? Poor planning and lack of experience, perhaps, but he had known what Teller Nieves was before he even started classes. He still had memories of the young man crawling catlike into his lap, his modified uniform hugging and pulling at all the right curves. Just the memory of it made his fingers itch and he quickly turned back to the whiteboard. He sighed when he heard Oliver’s query. “No, Mr. Basset. They lived in a very church dominated society, you do the math. But a friend of mine who plays for the Pennsylvania Sinfonia Orchestra had another theory that I might share with you on the last day of class.” Wouldn't do to share it now, he had to uphold (what was left of) his teacher-student relationship. In the back of his mind he had a feeling it was a battle he was going to lose but that didn't mean he wouldn't try.

As he glanced back over his shoulder before writing on the board, he thought he saw something small go flying out of the corner of his eye. It had come from the direction of Santiago and Neil, he was fairly certain. He’d keep an eye on them. Though Neil did seem to be awake now. While suspicious considering his previous posture it was still a desired result, maybe he’d let it slide. “Some of Bach's most famous works include the Brandenburg concertos, the Goldberg Variations, and his six Cello Suites. I will be burning all of you CDs tonight and tomorrow so that you can study for the listening portion of your exam.” He said, writing the names of the pieces on the board. Ah, listening tests. Messian had both hated and excelled at them in college. They could be particularly difficult depending on where the teacher chose to take the excerpt from and how similar the selections were to one another, but Messian would not be so cruel. Except maybe to Oliver… he was beginning to think that the boy knew more than he let on and could probably handle a bit more of a challenge.

He glanced at the clock while they wrote. Thirty-five more minutes, then he could hunt down Mr. Leo Butler and together they could “work out” the frustration this class brought out of him. Specifically the frustration that Teller Nieves brought out of him.
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Jack Killganon
Posted: Oct 2 2010, 06:47 PM


Pop the glock.


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 280
Member No.: 70
Joined: 16-June 08



"Shiiiiiit,"

This came as probably NO surprise to anyone, that Jack Killganon was late to class. Well..if it were up to him he probably wouldn't have even bothered to show up. Buuuut, his valuable and precious time spent doing...well, Jack like things was cut off and he decided that he should grace the class with his presence. Getting through a class with Messian King teaching required alot of skill. I mean, you had to not be able to fall asleep, and pretend you were paying attention as well! Urgh. He walked through the maze of hallways until he stopped infront of the door, which so plainly read 'Music History'. Jack rolled his neck a bit, and cracked his knuckles. He had to get in character, had to gear up. Mhm.

Pushing open the door, he waltzed in with his usual and oh so uncaring stroll. He wore the uniform, barely anyway. His tie was loose, his hair was messy, his pants were tucked into his combat boots, and his blazer was hanging off one shoulder. He tugged his black messenger bag with him, and he walked in and glanced over at Messian with an amused expression. "So terribly sorry, the traffic was just...horrible sir," Jack said sarcastically, not even bothering to make up a proper excuse. Most students would just play the 'My alarm didn't go off' or 'my grandma died'. But not Jack! Where the fun in the teacher only SUSPECTING you don't give a shit to show up on time? No, he wanted Messian to know he had no intentions or absolute desire to get higher than a D in his class. MAYBE if he was feeling particularly daring, he'd aim for a C. But nah. At this rate, he'd be lucky to even get that D.

Smirking, and disregarding the seating, Jack choose a spot for himself. "Mmm," right inbetween Teller and Oliver. "My lucky day, Frenchie and Teller," he dropped his bag by his chair and sat down. He then glanced over his shoulder, getting a look at the rest of the class. Neil falling asleep, other people in the back texting, and Santiago looking like a whiney cunt as usual. "Ey baby..." Jack mouthed over in Santiago's direction, before wiggling his eyebrows and flicking his tongue at the poor boy. Anything to disgust or get a rise out of Santi.
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Teller Nieves
Posted: Oct 7 2010, 02:47 PM


talk with your hips


Group: Junior
Posts: 127
Member No.: 126
Joined: 1-March 09



“I play an awesome subdominant.” He said, with a wink.

Appropriate teacher-student relationship. Riiiiiiight.

You keep dreaming, Messian King.

Teller adjusted in his seat, momentarily distracted by a particularly juicy text; ooooh, AJ had gotten a bad batch, and got caught by the cops. That was one guy who was definitely going to prison; if it wasn’t the drugs, it woulda been the underage porn, and if it wasn’t the porn, it woulda been the unlicensed guns. Then, however, his fellow students pulled him back into the classroom, and he smirked at Oliver from across the room. That was one cocky mother fucker; but Teller kind of liked it. Too bad Oliver was a slut messing around in all the wrong places, unlike Isaac, who knew better than to fuck around with Teller’s boyfriend. That’s why he and Isaac were still friends; and he and Oliver…. Not so much.

Tell tossed his hair over his shoulder, looking at Messian like he could physically undress him with his eyes. An expression that not only implied Teller could genuinely see him naked, but with a sexuality so ridiculously potent that the rest of the class could see it too. It didn’t help the image that he was toying with the lollipop, rolling it temptingly over his tongue, caressing it and sucking on it. He didn’t have to wonder if Mess remembered that evening; the tension in the man’s back as he turned away sharply, and the way he still looked at Tell, was apparent enough.

And then, enter Jack Killgannon from stage left. Teller just chuckled at his ‘devil-may-care’ attitude. “Hey, ho.” He said, in acknowledgement, smirking in greeting. Oh, poor fucking Messian. How he, Oliver, and Jack had ended up in the class, Teller had no idea. But it was pretty fucking awesome.
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Santiago R. Villalobos
Posted: Oct 8 2010, 06:35 AM


Unregistered









While Santiago waited for Neil to take his guess on hang man, he watched the surroundings in the class. Messian King looked rather tense suddenly. Well, who knows what kind of shenanigans he had gotten himself into, especially with certain students. As much as the Argentine would like to think Messian was a good, focused teacher dedicated in the musical enrichment of young minds, it would not have surprised him if he had already a few ...encounters with students. In St. Gabe's that kind of thing was possible. It was actually getting really irritating.
Brandenburg Cello suits? That did not sound to complicated, actually. He had heard those enough as a kid to know what was the difference, it was just a matter of getting a technical stuff down . At that time Neil had poked him on the shoulder and while Messian had his back turned, he took the note, smirking slightly and took a look at what Neil wrote. He frowned slightly and sighed. Typical Neil answers. Of course, he had not expected the boy to get 'opprobrium' right of the bat, but seriously, only one letter? Santiago was not realizing that maybe he should have been a bit more light hearted. So he began to scribble down some notes on the piece of paper when suddenly, miracles of miracles, Jack Killganon came in. Late as usual. Not a big surprise there. He looked back down at the paper, looking disinterested at the event, after wards briefly glancing back, only to catch the small boy sit down near Teller and Oliver. Well, wasn't Messian going to have a great class today? He also caught the Jack mouthing something at him and make some disgusting gestures. Ugh, the boy was.... well all Santiago wanted to do sometimes was punch him in the face, but alas, he just had to make do with a "go to hell" glare and turn back his attention to the paper.

He made sure Messian was not paying attention and he stretched , handing Neil the note...hopefully the boy was paying attention.

He crossed out every letter Neil suggested except 'I' which he put in the spaces as followed _ _ _ _ _ _ _ I _ _. He crossed out all of the suggestions Neil had put and in the hanging black he had drawn in crudely drawn in the gallows and the head and the torso. The head had long hair and little exes to where his eyes would be (sound familiar?) . He wrote "want to buy a letter?".
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Grayson McArdie
Posted: Oct 29 2010, 12:23 AM


Member


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 14
Member No.: 269
Joined: 21-October 10



(DELETE THIS. I'M SEMI-RETARDED AND DON'T REMEMBER TO SWITCH ACCOUNTS BEFORE POSTING.)
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Oliver Basset
Posted: Oct 29 2010, 12:26 AM


Member


Group: Junior
Posts: 47
Member No.: 248
Joined: 10-July 10



There was a reason Oliver went to St. Gabrielle's - it was a good school with even better students (and teachers, too); not only was there the excellent education, but there was also the incredibly handsome crowd that kept the French boy busy night and day. So it was no surprise that he had been enjoying his stay there very much, getting to know all of these pretty people on a quite... intimate level.

Exhibit A: Enter Jack Killganon. A mighty fine ride, if Oliver could say so himself; plus, Jack was a charming kid, and that hair was great for tugging on. Offering the short boy a languid grin, he uncrossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, tapping the end of his pen against the page impatiently. This class had the potential to go from a regular, boring class, to a vortex of doom for poor Messian King. Somehow, Oli really wanted to make the man writhe today; he was feeling especially cruel.

A little pink tongue darted over his full lips, mind churning with possibilities: whatever trouble he got in today, he could pay off... and he hadn't seen Isaac in more than a few hours, so he felt a little 'frustrated'. Clever hazel eyes darted from his teacher, trying so tirelessly to deal properly with the little tyrants he called his students, to Jack and Teller. Drumming his fingertips along the smooth surface of his notebook, the brunette sat quietly for a moment before picking up his things and moving to sit right beside Jack, pulling their desks together and pressing the side of his thigh against the smaller male's.

Looking at Jack with bright eyes and a conniving little smirk, he lowered his hand to the boy's knee while resting his elbow on the desk, facing the other boy with his chin balanced on his knuckles.

"Jackie, I'm bored."
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Mr. Messian King
Posted: Nov 11 2010, 07:58 PM


The Token Jew


Group: Alumnus
Posts: 74
Member No.: 257
Joined: 28-August 10



Jack Killganon. Hadn’t he dropped this class? He vaguely remembered something about Jack dropping it once before but Messian could hardly keep track. The boy’s emotional rollercoaster was such to rival that of a preteen girl and Messian had given up keeping pace with his in-and-out long ago. It seemed he was here now and that was all that really mattered. “Nice of you to join us, Mr. Killganon.” Messian said, walking forward and plucking the cell phone from Teller’s hands while the boy was looking at Jack. “This information will be on the test so you better copy it down. And Mr. Nieves, I said no phones. You can pick this up after school today.” He added, turning the phone off and setting it on top of his piano.

“While Mr. Killganon is catching up, I have your assignment.” He picked up a stack of papers from the music stand by the piano and started to pass them down the rows. “You’re going to be working in groups of two or three—Oliver, pay attention—on your composer project. Each group will be assigned a composer from the Classical Era and will give a small presentation on that composer and their major works to start off the new unit.” He waited until every student had a paper before continuing. “And yes, I will let you pick your own groups. You will be responsible for a short three to five page paper and a visual aid that you will use during your presentation. Are there any questions? If not you may have ten minutes to figure out your groups and what topic you want. I will be circling to make sure you are on task, only one group per composer so as soon as you have your group members and your topic come see me."
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