So Tree Adams is currently working on the music for the trailer. If you haven’t seen some of his twitter likes, he’s been liking a TON of bellarke-positive tweets (!!!) and he confirmed last season that the piano represented Bellamy and the cello was Clarke (although I think he commissioned a new instrument to represent her this season, so we’ll have to listen for it)
So y’all can bet your asses I’m gonna be picking apart the music to see if there’s any delicious bellarke musical stuff and things in the trailer.
If they don’t make bellarke blatantly obvious in what we see, maybe they’ll give a hint of it in what we hear. ;)
NEW! Here, at last, is a piano everyone can play—even if you’ve never
had a lesson in your life! Perfect for parties and family fun…hundreds
of new music rolls available. FOR MANUAL PLAY The Pianola becomes a
superb modern spinet, clean in line, compact in design. Come in for a
Free “Play-It-Yourself” Demonstration.
Remember that countdown photo of Bellamy at the piano from last season? Because I sure as hell do.
Clarke didn’t sleep well these days. It was rare that she made it all the way through a night without waking up in a panic, and once she was awake it took hours to fall back asleep. Sometimes she didn’t even bother and just got up to wander the halls of Arkadia in the small hours of the morning. They didn’t have much time left, after all.
She trailed her fingers along the cold, metal wall as she walked and in the distance she heard a soft, melodic sound. She drew closer to the mess hall and the quiet plink of piano keys grew more distinct. It was halting, like the musician was trying to remember the notes, but she recognized the melody— a lullaby, old and sad.
Clarke wasn’t surprised to find Bellamy in the mess hall— he slept just as poorly as she did— but she was surprised to find him at the piano, his blunt fingers searching out the keys. “I didn’t know you played,” she said as she walked across the deserted hangar.
“I don’t,” he said without looking up. “Not really.” He shifted automatically and Clarke sat down next to him. “Gina taught me,” he said after a moment of silence.
Gina. Bellamy hadn’t talked about her; not to Clarke. That night at Niylah’s Clarke had heard Raven sneer you were never that devoted to Gina, and wondered what that meant. Who was she, and why did her name make Bellamy look so stricken? At the time she thought they had years together, plenty of time to let wounds heal before they revisited them. But now their days on earth were ticking past with alarming quickness and it felt like a goddamn tragedy, because there was still so much about him she wanted to know.
“How did she learn?” she asked, and placed her finger on a white key. A note rang out, high and sweet.
“Her grandmother taught her on a datapad. She wasn’t very good, but she was better than me,” he said with a sad smile. “She told me to try and listen to the music in my head, and I had to admit I didn’t have any.”
Clarke touched a black key this time, it’s sharp sound just a little lower. “Lexa tried to teach me to throw a spear once,” she said, because if this was all they had— stolen moments while the end of the world marched ever closer— she would share it with him. And that meant honesty, even though the mere thought of Lexa brought a lump to her throat.
“That sounds about right,” he said drily, and Clarke smiled a little.
“I was pretty good, I’ll have you know,” she teased gently.
“Never said you weren’t,” he replied, his own grin just a bit brighter. He played a chord but stopped when she leaned her head on his shoulder. He draped his arm around her and pressed his cheek to the top of her head.
“The world is ending, Bellamy,” she said quietly. “And I don’t know what we’re going to do.”