The Battle of All Time, bandies vs the corrupt ones

[Nerrek]

[CHAPTER ONE]

My arms were close to elbow-deep in the warm, soapy water as my hands took up the cloth, washing away the remains of the food that the dishes had carried on them only moments ago. One headphone dangled down the front of my shirt, the other was in my ear. I was staring intently into the soapy water, but I never once saw the dirtying water. The steady circling of the wet dish cloth. A slight shiver coursed through me, but I kept my eyes on the sink, my mind idly wandering in boredom.
Then something changed. The lighting perhaps? Blinking at the sudden brightness, I focused my gaze on the window –or perhaps what lay just beyond the glass-. A van? We weren’t expecting any visitors were we? My eyes narrowed in thought, but then the door opened. Turning away briefly, grabbing a dry cloth I started drying the dishes hastily. Throwing them into the cupboard, I’m disrupted by a swift knock at my door. I can hear my mom shifting, about to get up.
“Got it mom,” I called out, and I heard her sit back down again. Speed-walking to the door, and then swinging it open I scowled into Jon’s face. A mixture of curiosity and annoyance flickered through me. He had something of a smile, but also a kind of… sketchier look to his eyes about him. He grinned –but it seemed forced- and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“Hello Jon. Is there any particular reason you’re here?” I tried to sound happy, and genuinely friendly. Noting how his lashes lowered, and he half-turned away I wasn’t sure if I should be worried or just flat out annoyed. Then he flicked his wrist, and I heard him speak again.
“Come outside would you? There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Worry sunk into me, and I scanned my yard. Where was Aaron? They were best friends were they not? And it was Aaron who was my boyfriend. So why Jon? Following hesitantly, I closed the door behind me once more.
“Jon, can’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“No. This is very important.”
My eyes narrowed, confusion and worry flicking through me. “Where’s Aaron? Is he alright?”
“He’s in The Van. He’s fine. It’s not about him.”
This wasn’t helping. All he was doing was confusing me more! My lashes lowered as I narrowed my eyes in frustration. I could feel myself getting annoyed again, but instead of lashing out at him I leaned against the railing, and watched him. Waiting for him to continue already. Unlike some people, I did have a life.
He frowned then sighed softly.
“Pack a bag. Bring clothes. Food if you can. Music, whatever you’ll need to survive. Maybe a guitar… Aaron didn’t have enough time to grab his.”
“Whoa! Wait up. What’s going on?”
“Think of it as a road trip. A very long, extended road trip. With me, Aaron, and Joey. And the balance and fate of the world resting on this nice, fun little road trip’s shoulders.”
I recoiled, feeling my lip curl even further, a twitch near my eye. “Are you stoned or something? You’re crazy. Deff crazy.” I shook my head slightly, then rolled my eyes. “If this is about me going to Winnipeg with you guys, I can’t.”
I glanced back at him, searching his face. Where was the hint of laughter? That mischievous glint in his eyes? I needed a tell-tale sign he was kidding. There would obviously be one, it was Jon. But his face was still perfectly straight. Grim almost. Had he really gotten that good at lying? Then I saw a touch of annoyance and anger enter his face as he inhaled to speak. His words were swift, and pretty final sounding.
“I said go get your stuff. We’re leaving soon. If you don’t, I’ll make Aaron pack it for you. And that could get awkward… Aaron and Joey going through your room. We’re leaving as soon as possible.”
I laughed. It was the only logical reaction to this. He was so toying with me! The laughter died in my throat as his face turned into a scowl. I felt my eyes widen slightly as I looked at him in slight disbelief.
“I can’t leave right now! I have…homework?” I arched an eyebrow, not quite sure what else to do. And then I saw the splotches of crimson rising in his face. Definitely from the cold. It was Winter, eh?
“I said, do it now.”
My jaw dropped. Shaking slightly –obviously I was day-dreaming, even Jon and Aaron and Joey weren’t this mental!- I turned on my heel and re-entered my house. My head was slightly spinning, and I giggled softly to myself. Saving the world? With a road-trip? With Jon and Aaron and Joey?
My mom looked up at me, her own eyebrows raised. I could just feel it in my bones, what she was going to ask next. As I turned down the hallway to my room, I mouthed the words silently to myself even as she started to speak.
“Well, what did they want?”
“I’m going out tonight mom.”
“You’re what?!”
“I’m going out. Jon, Aaron, going to movies. Want me to go.”
“You most certainly are not going out! It’s a school night!”
And tah-dah, yet another sighting of you typical nazi mother of a teenage girl. Pull out your cameras, because this is what one of them looks like when they’re preparing to feed. That is, fee on the fear they can practically taste as it rolls off of you in your scent, when they start yelling. I could practically hear one of my friends; And this is how we observe the nazi, strict, overly-possessive and controlling mother in her natural habitat. When she sees the vulnerability –no matter what form it may come in- she must strike. Strike, or be striken is how she views it. It’s a fight or flight reaction… and fight always wins.
My eyes rolled yet again and I grabbed my schoolbag roughly off the floor. Upended its contents onto my bed. And as I grabbed some clothing and stuffed it in, I heard the ring tone on my cell phone go off. Growling, swearing to myself I snatched it up off of my bed. Flicked the damned thing open. Went to my inbox and looked at the next text message. And swore even more.
Hurry Up. Or Baron Is Going 2 Help.UDont WantThat,DoU?
I was torn between laughing at the weirdness of the situation, and biting off a sarcastic comment. Something along the lines of ‘glad to know you can use the space button, and spell Aaron’s name’. Or perhaps some statement or other comparing them to a JK kid. Instead, I chose to simply ignore the text message. They didn’t need a reply, did they?
Bag full of various contents, I walked out the door of my room, slipping both headphones in my ears. I could still hear my mother yelling –had she stopped, or was she still ranting and raving to my not-listening teenage ears?- and sighing I barked off a reply of my own.
“Mom, I’m almost 16. Give it a rest. One random movie, is not going to kill me. Nor will it fail me in any of my classes. See yah later, don’t know when I’ll get home.”
That had her fired up. Wincing, I darted down the stairs, grabbed my jacket, slipped my shoes on and slung the jacket over my shoulder. And just as hell was breaking loose on its way down the stairs, I kicked the door open and sprinted to the light blue van parked in my driveway.
Sliding the door open and jumping in, I scowled at Jon through the back of his seat. Him and his stupid drivers license.
Aaron and Joey were ranting about some random thing in the background again, and for a moment I paused to listen.
“Oh and we’ll have triangles! Lots of triangles!” That would be Joey…
“No! Only one triangle!” And that, would be Aaron.
“Fine! But the triangle has to be ruled over by a rubics cube….”
“And the game has to be done as a rip-off of bio-shock!”
“Okay, then they can kill anything circular!”
“Sounds good!”
I rolled my eyes then threw in “and one of the bosses can be a capital B with a triangle hat.” Not bothering to listen to their reply to turned my seething gaze back to Jon.
“I do hope you realize this trip is raising all hell when I get home later.”
“You won’t be home for a while. If you ever go home again. Don’t worry about it.”
Scowling –I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not- I slid into the seat on Aaron’s other side, while Joey slid the door closed. Sighing, I leaned my head gently against his shoulder and I felt his arm circle slip around my waist. If there were any pluses to this crazy, absurd and absolutely ridiculous so called ‘road-trip’ this was definitely one. Getting to see him, just might make this random adventure worthwhile. The warmth at my side that could be called Aaron, was now bitching. Oh dayam.
“I’ve had enough of your stupid history insiders!” Oh, brace yourselves people, the demon was being let loose! And who said bandies couldn’t have a temper? Slipping my finger into the pocket of my hoodie, I adjusted the volume of my music. Just a little louder would be sufficient.
“Are you tuning me out now?” Smirking I looked up at him, meeting his eyes and laughing softly on the inside.
“Why no, why would I ever do that?”
“Because you’re mean like that.”
I laughed at the slightly pouty tone to his voice and kissed his collarbone quickly. The street-lights were on, and it was dark outside. Every now and then splashes of light would manage to break the gloom on the inside of The Van, slipping in through the windows. Every now and then, they would land on his face, and I could tell he was giving me a mock scowl. For being mean, I assumed. Joey was quiet now. Or should I say, for now.
Closing my eyes, I was content for now to simply lean against him. Let Jon do the driving. Silence reigned supreme throughout The Van and time passed. Songs started and finished. Well not many. Only like, three. Or maybe five.
Then the speed was slowly. We weren’t quite driving along anymore. The Van was slowing down. Turning. Into a driveway, perhaps?
Cracking open an eye-lid and lazily covering a yawn with the palm of my hand, I froze temporarily. Why, oh why were we at Aaron’s? I glanced at him, and the returning smile he gave me had a hint of, well… plotting joy?
Narrowing my eyes and scowling, suspicion running high I scooted out of The Van after him. Tripped. Swore some, and then pulled a face at his amused expression. He had no right to laugh at me! Well, maybe a little. But that was beside the point. Catching his hand, uncertainly, then letting it go. I followed him slowly, meekly up the stairs. Through the door. Closed it behind me, then kicked off my shoes. Dropped my jacket on top of them. I then followed him to his room.
What awaited me, was rather shocking. Not only was there a Jon and a Joey, there was an Amanda and a Dom, Caitlin and Beth, and Gavin. Also, sticking out rather like a sore thumb, there was Logan sprawled out on the floor playing Animal Crossing. Again. Everyone here appeared to be in the band, with that one exception. Silly Logan. Was this some kind of ‘surprise, band meeting’ thing?
Looking about rather shiftily, I sat gingerly on the edge of his bed, following his movement. Leaning lightly against him. Jon closed the door behind us, then went to stand in the very center of the room. Scowled at Logan and quite purposefully turned off the gamecube. I flinched backwards, away from the high keening noise that followed. That was keening, not Logan speaking right? Oh, nope. It was Logan exclaiming his outrage.
“How could you! I was yknow, playing that game! I didn’t get to save…. Now that stupid mole is going to come and yell at me again.”
I felt the corners of my lips twitch into a smile, and stifled a giggle. Glanced over at Amanda, seeing the same unimpressed, but amused feeling on her face that was fluttering through me. Was I being as subtle as she was? Oh well.
Jon glanced around the room, holding himself dutifully. Glanced at Aaron, waited and received a nod. A go ahead sign perhaps? Oh well, what did it matter.
“Now, you’re probably wondering why we’ve all been called here. To this very, very small room.” His face was so grim, it was hard to believe it was Jon talking and not some kind of crazy replica. “Well, the truth is, there’s been a crisis of sorts. Or soon shall be. Assuming that we, the gathered Bandies –and Logan- do not do something about it.”
My eyebrows were so god damned raised, it felt like my face was stretching. Or about to simply fall off. I glanced at Aaron, and sighed softly. Full attention was on Jon, and I could see the faint agreement written all over his face. Well then, this was going to be one hell of a night now wasn’t it?
Jon inhaled dramatically, preparing to continue speaking and rolling my eyes I returned my gaze back to him.
“Now, we the gathered Bandies have a sworn and solemn oath to uphold. One of the likes, that only the superior –okay, higher ranked- Band Council Members are ever informed of. In tradition, it is passed down from the senior members to the grade nine or ten Rep. However, we are breaking tradition and informing the general public of our Band. The loss of our conductors these past years –as in Mr. Scott and Mrs Hudson- were no coincidence. What we face, is not a matter of our conductors, our guidance simply up and leaving for a better job. It is all part of a conspiracy!”
A collective gasp of astonishment rose up from the ‘General Public’ of the Jazz and Concert Bands of Beaver Brae Secondary School –of course, missing quite a few members. Aaron’s room can’t fit everyone- and Jon raised his hands to gain silence within the room. And of course, this was followed by more talking on his end.
“Now then, as I was saying. We, the Band Council, have a sacred duty to uphold. And you, the Bandies don’t really do much to help us. But that is not your fault. We are to intervene should ever the Corrupt Ones overthrow the leadership and thinking of the Innocents. Now then, never before in the past have the Corrupt ones ever had much sway, well much more than their standard. However, recently with last years new wave of Grade 9s, things have changed. They are gaining power, very swiftly. They are aiming for world domination, and we the Bandies must live up to the oath we have all sworn –it’s in the sheet you got at the beginning of the year in very fine print that you handed in with your money-. We must thwart the plan of the Corrupt Ones! And if the need arises, we must dominate the world first!”
Aaron scowled at the last bit, shaking his head. “That last part, that’s not in the oath.”
“Be quiet you! As I was saying, we will dominate the world first. Anyway, we cannot accomplish this if we all stick together. So we shall be dividing into teams. Four teams.”
Here Amanda frowned, then rather neatly cut into Jon’s seemingly never-ending flow of talking. “If we split into four teams, will we have enough members to each division to still be able to accomplish anything?”
Jon scowled back at her, glaring. “Don’t you question my judgment. Anyways as I was saying. Four divisions. More or less in the groups you came here, with a few exceptions. Amanda, your coming with my group. And Logan…”
And so he droned on. Sighing, I closed my eyes and turned my music up yet again. If I missed anything important, I could always ask Aaron later, right?
Oh, so wrong.
I felt a pinch near my rib cage, and flinched. Not sure where I flinched too, I just did. I opened one eye, and realized the room had lost quite a lot of people. ‘Well, this would be my group then?’
Well I most certainly wasn’t complaining. There was Amanda, who was probably going to be my savior, the keeper of my sanity in this bizarre thing Jon and Aaron were setting up. Then, of course, there was Aaron. No comment needed there. Jon was there too. Again no comment. Joey, my Second or Third Trumpet, who could ask for a better side-kick? Well, I could, but I wasn’t about to. And then there was Logan. Weird kid. So we had a Tenor, two Bassists, two Trumpets…. And an ex-Trombone player. Or just that random kid who talked fast named Logan. Oh well, I was good with all of them. No complaining here.
About to lean against the wall, when I realized that the bed didn’t quite touch to wall. Almost fell. I caught onto Aaron’s arm, and dragged myself back up to a sitting position. Met his green and blue and grey eyes [so pretty… and randomly colored?], and smiled sheepishly.
“Did you even hear any of Jon’s explanation?”
I grimaced a bit, then sighed. “Not really. I stopped listening. You don’t expect me to believe it, do you?”
Then his face darkened. And I instantly regretted the question. Widening my eyes a bit, and flashing him a grin. “Haha, kidding!”
He didn’t look very impressed. Brushing his right hand lightly over my stomach, he sighed.
“Guess I’ll have to explain then. In short, we the Bandies must defend the world against the Corrupt ones. Who are, also known more commonly, as the majority of the Cheerleaders. Led by Alix Daignault, with a second-in-command of Danene Groshak. They also have some of the male athletes with them. Now, our Band-a-letes –like you and Amanda and Joey- are the ones we’ll rely heavily on should it come to blows. So don’t go starting any fights. Anyways, they are trying to take over the world. So we, the Bandies are temporarily scattering out into various hideouts in the City, and eventually we will be going to different cities. We called Dan in to drive one of the groups, Caitlin has agreed to drive another and Jon’s mom will drive the last group. Now, we have to go about disarming them of their powers-“
He stopped talking. I figured it might have something to do with the expression on my face. Something mixed of disbelief, and a gut-wrenching amusement. The kind you have to fight down so you don’t randomly burst out laughing, and possibly insulting someone. He scowled, then stood up.
“Jon, lets go to The Van. It’s not safe here anymore.”
Bewildered, and rather shocked, I felt him grab my wrist. Let him drag me to the door. Out the door, and into Jon’s van. Took the back two seats with him, with Amanda taking shot-gun and Joey and Logan taking the middle seats. Let Aaron pull me against him, and I curled up against his side. This was absolutely absurd. Soon, I’d close my eyes. Re-open them, and be in my nice, warm bed. Hugging a teddy-bear. But that would deff be easier to accept than this. Bandies versus Cheerleaders? Now that, that was just uncalled for.

[Nerrek]

How long has it been since then? Weeks? Months? Naw, I’m just kidding you. Its been precisely five days, five days and approximately thirteen hours and twenty five minutes. Well, I’m not sure just how long, to that exactness it has been. But it has been five days. I’m seriously, not lying to you this time.
It’s lunch time. And the savages are at work. You can practically see the lust for power in the black pits of darkness they have for eyes. Well, fine they have blue or brown eyes, just like everyone else. But that is so not my point!
I’m standing in line with Aaron, Joey, Logan and Jon for no particular reason. Well, they’re going to get food. I don’t eat at lunch, so really there is absolutely no point to me standing in the café line with them. Except for maybe, strength in numbers. Amanda is holding down the music room, our designated practice room secure. Nothing to worry about?
Looking up at Aaron, we’re at the door now. I plead with my eyes to stay, but I know I can’t. I’m simply not buying food. So I leave, walk around to the front. Lean casually against a café table, and wait. I hate this waiting part. It leaves me vulnerable. In English I have Jory, two against the world it feels like. In History, I’ve got Logan and Joey and Alex and Karen. Well Alex and Karen aren’t part of this, but I trust them. I’ve dropped subtle hints, stay away from the Corrupt-ones. But they can’t know what I mean with my Backwards C and Upside Down O slang. They just laugh. Laugh likes it’s some kind of joke! And so, I laugh along with them. In Careers, I have this other Alex kid, but there aren’t really any corrupt ones there. I can hold my own in my home room period.
Second period though, that class is like some kind of period to gather strength from my fellow comrades. Seriously, if Bandies traveled in packs, or worked together in packs separately but congregated at times other than Band Practice, this is it. Well we do get together other days. But not armed with our instruments of truth. Not armed and defended, fortified. Now, did I say strength in numbers talking about the café line? Well second period, is like the mother of all defenses. Too bad it only lasts for like 75 minutes.
I look around, because I’m growing bored. That’s when I see trouble, rearing its ugly face in the form of a Corrupt-one. I feel myself tense, and I attempt to look away. Wrong move!
She comes closer to me, and I realize this isn’t just any Corrupt-one, it’s the commander and her second in charge! Both of which, are in my English class. Coincidence? I sure as hell hope so.
Laughing, giggling like the mindless freaks they are, I watch them. They walk closer, closer. And then they pass me.
Relief leaves me numbed. I cast a glance over the dungeon, and spot a fellow. A comrade in arms. My best friend, Shelby. She’s on her way out of the Café. Jumping up, I catch her arm and grin, sketching out a bit. I’m looking all over the place, it’s so hard to know when I’m safe. Anywhere that is that is outside of the Music Room. The home-base. The safety zone. All hail the music room and its holy supply of musical instruments.
Smiling, I hug her. Accidentally elbow her in the neck.
“Oh my god! I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you.”
I grimace slightly, annoyed with myself for being such a klutz. I swear, I’m the most accident-prone Trumpeter to walk the halls of Beaver Brae. Like seriously, can you get any worse than me? At least I haven’t accidentally destroyed any of our very treasured wea- musical instruments.
Shelby kinda raises her eye-brows at me [us Bandies do that a lot?] and sighs. “I’m busy. Got to go to the science room or something.”
My eyes narrow, and I gasp slightly. “Shelby are you still with us? They haven’t gotten to you, have they?”
She rolls her eyes in response then sighs with exasperation. “For 20 millionth time today, I’m still with us. No they haven’t gotten to me. Can I leave now?”
Glancing over my shoulder, I can see Aaron and Jon just leaving the café line. Sighing, hanging my head a bit I nod. “If you so wish, by all means leave.”
And she turns on her heel. And leaves. Just as I feel him slipping his arm around my waist in a one-armed hug. I grin, looking to him. All is good, and I feel safe again. Aside from our own kind, the Bandies, I know that no one can truly be trusted. The Band, is all we have. This last week, has been mind-blowing and opening for us as a band. It has drawn us tighter together than ever before. And above all else, this week has started the rituals of old, the teachings of the true purpose behind solos and improvisation soloing.
I follow them meekly again. It’s been accepted who the leaders are within the council, and the band. You see, even us Bandies have this order of hierarchy. Break it, and you… well I’m not all too sure. No one has broken it yet. Maybe you get beaten with a bass guitar or a sax? Or maybe, you get your memory erased via some crazy, unknown spoken of solo. Either way… Hierarchy. I won’t even touch on that, it’s so complex. If you don’t get it, nothing I say will explain it to you. You just have to feel it inside of you. Or leave. Or get it somehow beaten into you through your thick skull. Anyways.
I curl up in the corner of the practice room, offering Amanda a smile. I’m nervous. My movements are stiff and jerky as I lean against the wall beside her. Aaron sits on my other side, but for the moment I’m more set on talking to Amanda. I need some kind of counseling, reassurance after my close call with the Corrupt-one’s Leaders.

[Eclipse]

[CHAPTER TWO]
It had been a long week [or perhaps two, or maybe even three] since our first encounter, and fight with the faceless cheerleader. Well, she had had a face, but even as of now she remained nameless as far as I was concerned. We, the Bandies, were constantly on edge. How long would it be until th next fight occurred? What if it was not them, but us who lost next? A shiver touched my spine at the thought, and I hastened my pace.
Shelby's presence at my side was calming. Having my best friend around almost 24/7, especially now that both her and I slept in the music room most nights. A good chunk of the band did at that. Not every night, but most nights. Unless, of course, your last name was Corbett. Then you just went home. After all, the Corrupt Ones are too lazy to go all the way out to the boonies to hunt you down in that case. Seriously, I would be too if I was them. It takes, like an hour to get there! Okay definitely an exaggeration, but still...
Getting back onto the living conditions. Most of us, sleep in the music room regularly. We all have our designated areas [well, more or less]. Sleeping bags, pillows, and instruments cases plus the cold, hard floor. Unless you're Gavin. Some nights, we find him curled up upon the bass drum, and others we find him sprawled out across the xylophone, drooling on the keys. Last night, was a rough night.
You see, we were all sleeping, and all was quit. We made James go on guard duty last night. If anything were to come, surely he'd squeal and we'd all wake up. That, or his soloing would wake us up...
Anyways, so dead of night, all is calm and quiet. When we hear an ear-piercing scream, and a voice we think is masculine going "No! not the chocolate covered marshmallows!" And as if that's not bad enough, the symbols in the percussion section go crashing to the floor. I'm pretty sure Megan screamed in response to the already high volume of the noise. Most of us jumped up, instruments in hand, prepared to defend HQ, when we realized it was just a false alarm. Just Gavin again. Needless to say, rough night, and very little sleep after Gavin's incident.
Shelby was mumbling something about role-playing mixed with something about soloing and the need for tighter security of the HQ [aka the music room]. If you, the reader, hasn't yet figured this out yet, the tension is slowly driving us all the levels of insanity we thought never to reach. The vibrator on my cellphone starts going off, and I feel my body flinch in a nervous reaction to it.
I slit my eyes slightly, and glance nervously at Shelby, before pulling the cell phone out of my pocket. I make sure no one is watching us too closely, and I proceed to check the caller id. Recognizing the number, I flip my cell open. Listen to the voice on the other end. "Meet HQ. Immediately." Then a click, and the line goes silent. I don't need to look to know Shelby's watching me, waiting for me to tell her. She's probably as edgy and nervous as I am. But I cannot afford to let my fear show through. None of us can. Fear is a vulnerability, and we can't afford to be vulnerable. We've got enough on our hands as it is.
"We're going back." I speak softly, paranoid beyond belief. All of this fear and wariness is getting to me. I'm starting to see monsters in shadows, and fiends in the closets. Shivering, I watch her expression. Notice as she frowns a bit.
"Why?"
"I'm not sure. Guess we'll find out, now won't we?"
Not even one more word is exchanged between us as we make our way back to the music room from one of the numerous trails out behind the school. Now, even these druggie infested trails are safer then the hallways of the Broncos, where cheerleaders roam freely.
We waste no time as we hurry back to the music room, and enter the school via the atrium. Less chance of running into the foul beasts known as cheerleaders. We almost jog in through the hallway just outside the music room, my nerves on overdrive. All those eyes and people on either side, lining the wall... it's enough to make any of us worried. It is suspicious, dark and dangerous times we live in after all.
I throw the door open and enter the music room slightly before Shelby, my muscles tense and stiff. My marks in school are dropping slightly, but I'm pretty sure everyone else's are as well. Who cares about school when the fate of the world rests in your hands? Well, maybe the teacher pets do, but obviously they aren't world-saving material then, are they?
We throw open the second set of doors, and slip into the wonderful safe haven. A place we have come to know as something close to home, in all of its heavenly and holy glory. Here, Shelby and I separate. She goes to her seat within the Alto Saxophone section, and I go to take my place beside Joey and Margeret in the Trumpet section. Order and structure, are very important now in these days. In the history of band, these will most likely become known as the Black Days, but soon we shall commence the Golden Era of Bandhood.
I look around, my shoulders squared and my head slightly lower than I usually would hold it. It would appear to be Shelby and I are among the last to arrive. 'It feels as if someone is missing...' I look around again, but as far as I can currently tell, everyone has arrived. It would appear to be that Jon also has decided almost all of us are here.
He steps forward, to the front of the room. Something seems off on his expression, but I can't quite place it. So I shrug it off for now, deciding I'm content to simply listen for now. Surely he has something comforting to say.
"My comrades in arms, we live in very great days for the legacy of the bands-"
"These aren't great days! They're horrible days!" Dom's interjection cuts Jon off quite swiftly, and a low mumbling rises up within the band. Could it be that structure was failing? Was this a sign of things to come? A senior and a senior about to argue?
But things are quickly picked back together. Jon scowls, but not in anyone in particular. Then he resumes his speech -or whatever it is he was getting at-.
"As I was about to say, we are winning. He have as of yet, suffered no casualties. However, it is with-"
As the door to the music room is opened suspiciously late, Jon is cut off yet again. All eyes turn to the late-comer, Brenden the grade nine trombone player. Th tension in the room grows, and Margeret leaps from her chair, shattering the suddenly chill and still atmosphere.
"Brenden! Why are you late?! I told you to come immediately! Why weren't you with anyone?"
The tense atmosphere becomes more shocked than anything else, and attention is equally divided between brass brother and sister. Brenden's face contorts into a sneer, and his cheeks flush with color. However, as Brenden opened his mouth to contribute to the sibling spat, Jon intervened.
"To your seat, latecomer. You come to this meeting late, and stir up drama! Know your place fool!"
There's an awkward silence, as everyone now turns their attention to Jon. 'Well that was a random out-burst...' I think to myself, before shifting in my chair. I glance at Joey, but his face is impassive as he returns the look. Impossible for me to read, or even suspect his feelings. Oh well.
"Wait a second, isn't there another saxophone?"
Most of us disregard Dylan's question. After all, it is only Dylan. What nonsense could he be speaking of now? Of course we had all of our saxophones -we think even as we stare at the empty seat where some grade 9 usually sits. Aaron's the only one who bothers to answer Dylan, and it's quite obvious the bassist is in one of his moods again.
"Shut up Dylan! Of course we have all our saxes. I mean, look at all of them! Surely there can't be even more."
An awkward silence follows yet again, while we all shift away. I glance once at Aaron's face, before looking away quickly. His eyes are slightly wider, and he had something of a bewildered look to his face. Definitely a dangerous thing.
"ANYWAYS resuming this meeting!"
All eyes snap to the front, drawn to Jon by yet another spazztastic outburst. I lean forward in my chair, resting my elbows lightly on my knees and I wait. What is this meeting about anyways?
"We must re-visit security and personal protection. Seeing as everyone knows percussionists are the weak link in our band, they can never travel together. They must always be with a senior. Gavin, you must travel with Beth and whoever she chooses to be with. Jory..." A pause slightly longer than necessary followed before he continued. "...you can go with Ellie and Josie. And Kevin can go with Erik and James." Yet another long pause followed, as he frowned again, looking carefully around the room. "Am I missing something?"
Caitlin looks to her sides, examining the saxophone row. "Jon, do you know where Erik is?"
A collective gasp arises from the band. Suspiciously, Brenden is slow to react, gasping only after taking in the room full of bandies. I watch him carefully, only taking small glances so as not to hinder my eye-sight. Could it be-
"Erik? Oh, Erik!"
My line of thought is severed as Jon speaks. I flinch back slightly, then sigh. Then it clicks. Where's Erik?

[TBC]