𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙊𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙐𝙥.

Eighteen.

West started school at the beginning of September, a few days after he arrived in Michigan. He made sure to familiarize himself with the campus before starting classes so he wouldn't fumble when it was time to head to a lecture.

The next day, as he approached the lecture hall for his music theory class, his gaze locked on the crowded bulletin board beside the door. Among the chaotic layer of papers, everything from tutoring ads to club sign-ups--a bright pink flyer caught his attention.

"Lead Guitarist wanted for all-girls band. No Freshmen, No Men Allowed!!! Auditions during break at theater. "

West frowned, scanning the details again. He wondered what kind of people would enforce such rules, but he couldn't deny the fact that he was intrigued. Despite not fitting their criteria, he found himself imagining walking into that audition anyway, proving them wrong with a single chord. Shaking his head, he stepped away, letting the thought linger as he pushed open the door.

As he stepped into the lecture hall, a wave of warm chatter ebbed and flowed around him. His eyes swept over the room, missing nothing but lingering on no one. He glanced at his watch, still a solid 5 minutes to spare, so he settled into a seat in the back and pulled out his notebook, letting the familiar scratch of pen on paper ground him.

On the far left, in the same row he was seated in, a pair of curious eyes lingered on him. A boy with messy curls and a slightly crooked smile--watched West with a quiet intensity. There was something about him that commanded attention, though the newcomer seemed oblivious. For now.

For a moment, the boy considered saying something... anything, but as the professor strode in, the moment slipped away.
He turned to his own notebook laid out in front of him, but continued to steal glances when he thought no one was looking.
----------------

At break time, West headed to his apartment to retrieve his guitar, then quickly made it back to campus so he could go to the audition, those silly rules weren't going to stop him. He WOULD be joining a band today.
He hadn’t even made it five steps into the theater before he was greeted by a sharp, resounding “No.”

The word cut through the empty space like a whip, making him freeze in place. The girl who said it was sitting on the edge of the stage, arms crossed, legs swinging lazily.

"What? You haven't even heard me play yet."

"No."

Her tone was so definitive it almost felt personal. West opened his mouth to argue but stopped short when his eyes landed on someone else in the room.

She was sitting further back, leaning against the wall with her arms folded casually across her chest. Her dark skin glowed in the hazy theater lighting and the black tee under her denim dungarees made her look effortlessly cool. West recognized her immediately.

"Hey, you're the-- we met at the record store... I bought a bunch of stuff from you..."

The girl raised an eyebrow, "So?"

West took a step closer, flashing what he hoped was his most charming smile. "So, help me out here, c'mon."

The girl barely even blinked, her expression unchanging as she replied with calm, practiced indifference, "Listen, I don't know how you missed it, but we specifically said "no freshmen... or men". It's in big red text and everything."

"First of all, "men" is a relative term--"

"No, it isn't." The first girl objected, but couldn't get another word in as the boy in front of them continued his spiel.

"Secondly. I'm not a freshman."

"Yeah, you are. You're in my class."

West turned, startled by the new voice. He vaguely recognized the boy who had seemed to materialize out of thin air. Soft features, dark hair, and wide eyes that seemed entirely fixed on him. Weston frowned, trying to place him, but nothing came to mind.