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₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.🏹
Abruptly slamming his locker shut, Drew protested his feelings, taking out a colorful explosive pack from his pocket. He slipped his phone out from his designer pants, pressing the camera roll app. He snapped a shot of a purple-dyed permanent marking pack in the palm of his hands. He sent it to a close friend, Liam, whom the both of them decided to scheme a quick prank up their sleeves.
Hailey, the music club president, recently had been dragging their friend, Jake, away from him. He didn't appreciate someone he didn't enjoy being around could have such audacity to steal his pal.
For revenge, Drew chose to sustain the talented girl with much apathy and ease. He would eventually blow her up, ruining every stance of attractiveness she has against everyone.
Drew texted Liam, "I have the pack. Where should I put it?" He waited for a response, but his friend didn't mudge. He gently tapped his feet, immediately thinking of a plan whilst he stood in silence. He thought of places the music club stepped the past six hours of school. He displayed his confidence, blankly darting across the corridors, finally moving from his locker.
He kept holding the pack and his device, growing impatient. He flipped his phone into his pants, figuring out an imaginable mechanism to smooth their evil ratchet.
Eventually, the wealthy kid stumbled upon the music room. Just with one little speck, he saw nobody in there. That's when the idea clicked in his brain. He could fastly implant the permanent, dyed bomb in the music room!
"Ahah, perfect!" Drew shouted to himself, assuring no one heard his cheers. He budged the doorknob, bugging it until it gave him access to go inside the room. He soon entered, noticing hastily how many instruments there were. Decorations of guitars were hung on the wall, the DJ had his own workshop, a table for scripting and writing, the drums and piano closely gaped another, and there was Jake's microphone in the center of the room. Drew stood to adjust the rage he had in his head, washing them out all due to the fact he saw his friend's special tool.
The sensual aura in the area overpowered him. He felt slightly afraid he didn't know the meaning behind all of this. The amount of times he came in and harassed the music club, the amount of times music blasted in here, and how many times he would tell them to get over themselves with their ridiculous taste in music. Now, he felt empty. The darkness of the room made him feel gloomy and unimpressed.
He stared at the pack in his palm, wondering if this was a good idea. Would Jake get mad at him, too?
"Tch." He clicked his teeth, brushing the idea off his shoulders. He walks toward the DJ's workshop, snatching the tape from the desk, and led himself to the scripting table, taping the purple pack underneath, where he presumed Hailey sits to write her Disney princess songs.
