They coudn't go to practice without their dual colored shirts: red for the boys, yellow for the girls.
Showchoir was an intense sport as any, leaving everyone and anyone who took part sore and spent by the end of each practice. And, considering the activity was in the music business, the gear was heavier, the girls were bitchier, the guys were gayer (which made them bichier), the festivals were a paranoia patients nightmare, and the uniforms tende to choke you with glitter.
Well, most of the uniforms anyway.
The "team" shirts were by far the most unglamorous things in the showchoir world of glitz, glam, and brightly colored spankies. Though, and you wouldn't have guessed by looking at them, these shirts were the items that really made each of the choral groups team. Every shirt from every year, cherished and worn over and over again, modified amateurishly to today's fashion, even old shirts were coveted and valued as collector's items by those school spirit enthusiasts and showchoir fangirls.
As she donned her yellow shirt and walked onto the stage, she knew her connection to this group, however deeper than any t-shirt could show, was being proudly represented through her practice attire.
She smiled.
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Holy cheeseballs this took forever to write. For those who don't know, showchoir is my life. End of story.
YOU ARE READING
She Just Wasn't
Short StoryI was never her, and she is not me, but still she's here, living my life. ~><~ I am trying to find myself. Sometimes that's not easy. ~ Marilyn Monroe
