GABRIEL'S POV
I marched into the classroom for this stupid summer class, my mood as dark as a thunderstorm.
Every step was a declaration of my annoyance, and I made sure to slam everything in sight—my backpack, the door, my chair, you name it.
One kid had the nerve to glare at me and say, “Shut up.”
Oh, really?
I whipped around, veins popping in my neck, and yelled, “Mind your own business, idiot!” It felt good to let that out, even if it was a bit over the top.
As I plopped down in a seat surrounded by a bunch of strangers, the teacher waltzed in, clearly ready to rain on our parade.
“Look at you all! Summer school! What a privilege!” she mocked, sarcasm dripping from her voice like melted ice cream on a hot day.
I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my brain.
"Maybe if you students are being much responsible, this wouldn't happen, haha!"
Finally, the lesson droned on, but then—miracle of miracles—it was health break! I bolted into the hallway like a kid released from detention.
I spotted a student trying to open a door, and in a moment of pure mischief, I slammed it shut just before she could get through.
Her shocked face was priceless.
“Oh, do you need this to be opened?” I taunted, trying not to burst out laughing.
She nodded, looking like a deer caught in headlights.
I decided to be a nice guy for a second and let her open it, but just as she thought she was safe, I slammed the door again with a loud bang.
Her eyes widened, and I couldn't help but cackle, she was trembling, such a baby!
“Oh, I'm sorry, do you need to get inside?” I said, my grin growing wider.
I opened the door gently this time, letting her think she was finally free, then slammed it shut once more.
Watching her jump was the highlight of my day. Feeling like the reigning king of chaos, I swaggered back to my seat, chuckling to myself.
Summer class?
Pfft.
I was going to turn this place into my personal playground, one door slam at a time!
As I strolled down the hallway, still buzzing from my earlier antics, I heard the unmistakable sounds of music drifting from the music room.
Curiosity piqued, I peeked inside and saw a group of my summer class classmates jamming together.
To be fair, they were pretty good—like, really good. The harmonies were tight, and it made me want to join in.
Without thinking, I started to sing quietly, trying to match their melody.
It felt cool, like I was part of something even if they didn’t know it yet.
Just when I was getting into it, a long-haired guy turned to me and said, “Hey, wanna join the band?”
“Yeah!” I replied, my excitement bubbling over as I stepped inside.
There were five of us now: me, the long-haired guy—Kevin—who was clearly the ringleader, a chubby guy named Harris, another guy named Brian playing the drums, and a dude named Jacob on electric guitar.
How do I know their named despite this is our first time meeting? Of course they had IDs.
We all started covering a song, and it felt like we had this instant connection, like we were all on the same wavelength.
After we wrapped up, we introduced ourselves, and I couldn’t help but notice how everyone seemed older.
When we stated our ages, Kevin was 23, but he kept failing his grades and is supposed to be graduating college. Harris is 20, Brian is 20, and Jacob is 19.
I realized I was the youngest in the group. “Seventeen,” I said, feeling a mix of pride and slight embarrassment.
These guys were all in their twenties, and here I was, just a kid trying to keep up. But for the first time in a while, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
Maybe summer class wouldn’t be so bad after all!
We all dove into a brainstorming session to name our band, tossing out ideas left and right.
The air was filled with playful insults as we shot down each other's suggestions.
“How about ‘The Failed Students’?” Kevin joked, and Harris laughed, “Yeah, that’ll get us a record deal for sure, or a criminal record if evef we cross the line, haha!"
Then Jacob chimed in with a grin, “Since all of us here failed the finals, how about ‘Finals Fiasco’?”
The room erupted in laughter, and just like that, we had our name. It felt perfect—like a badge of honor for all the chaos we’d turned into creativity.
Harris added, “We’re gonna be the next Elysium Vortex!” and we all burst into laughter again.
We jumped straight into covering more songs, each one bringing us closer together.
As the days turned into weeks, we hung out more often, visiting Kevin’s house since he lived alone.
It became our unofficial headquarters. We’d make music, record snippets on our phones, and brainstorm lyrics.
There was something magical about those moments—just a bunch of misfits finding their rhythm.
Months flew by, and before we knew it, we were sitting on our first original song, ready to be released on Spotify.
The excitement was palpable. We had transformed from a group of students who flunked out to a band with a real shot at something great.
And that's where we also started performing on the streets, cheap night clubs, birthday parties, and local fiestas.
But my parents does not know about this, and if they do.
They would have gotten a life sentence imprisonment once authorities will find me dead beside our house, haha!
Well, what else do you expect from us?
