Drumline Battle of the Field

17- The Price They Paid

After six and a half months of practice and conditioning, the band road tripped 8 hours to St. Luis Missouri for the super regional competition.

The bus ride was long; half the bass drums brought their DS's along with some pit members, andtogether they played 6-7 person games of Mario Kart.

This would be their only shot at getting a source. Yes, a source. If they played well enough, the source would be revived, and Pete Barry could go back to living a regular life. Ally could not stress focus enough.

Inside of the stadium the keyboard instruments lined up next to the field. In a cement cavity near the edge of the field the frontline gathered in a circle, swaying left to right.

The Elder Ryan spoke up. "Alright this is it. This is what we've been working on since like April. We know the music. You all have the tools and the skills to make it a great performance. You just have to do it."

There was some chatter about how cheesy the moment seemed. "Yeah. Perform your arts." He smiled, knowing he was going to be forever mocked for a comment he made earlier in the season.

"I don't want to be here." Amherst added after. "I didn't want to come to BOA. I hate my instrument. I hate my uniform and traveling and buses. I hate hotels. The malletkat is hard to lift. The frame was imported from hell.
My uniform rapes me cause it's way too small. I hate eating food on the go and moving from one place to another. I loathe sitting on a bus for hours. I hate sitting and waiting. And I hate being rushed around and being crabby
I hate being horrible for no reason." It was almost surreal talking for this long with about four people listening. Someone was about to say something and then she continued. "But most of all, I hate my Seniors." A few heads turned. "I hate how they teach me things. I hate how they pull me in. I hate how they walk away from Southview. And I hate how they never return to BOA."

Emily began to tear up, which wasn't good because the glitter comes off with water and Amherst cries when other people do. Pete Barry shed some tears and hugged his daughter because it was her last performance.

Oliver and Shoe were speaking separately about the ding, a single beat solo that second as a cue for the whole band to begin the Somewhere Over the Rainbow tune. "What happens if I miss the ding?" Shoe, the glockenspiel player asked.

"Don't worry about it." He shrugged. Oliver had a second ding sound programmed into his board, and the two were to simultaneously hit the same note and create the same sound.

"What?" She asked confused and unsettled.

"What's about to happen has already happened. What you can do now is all the things you know but after that you can't change it anymore." He said, and then made eye contact. "Does that make sense?"

"Yeah. It does. You're deeper then I thought." She said. "Like whatever happens happens."

"Yeah." He said, and the whole pit went to their boards.

They had 2 minutes to get on the field and ready to play. They had 1 minute to get completely get past the Goal line.

The pit was already passing through the goal in a short nine minutes. In movement four multiple people asked themselves if they were rushing but really they were near perfect. The beats per minute was getting fast; it was the minutes.

Emma could be heard asking. "What just happened?" as they came off.

"We played the cleanest bestest show ever. In all my years here." A senior responded.

Ally knew what this meant. The drumline was meeting beneath the stadium at midnight to reclaim their belongings.

The upperclassmen led the way and the complete line entered a room with not one, or two, but 14 sources. The all sat on cement pedestals. Not all of the sources were lit up and glowing, some were faded and cracked.

Ally and Jon led them to a pedestal with the name Lightbane on it. Down the hall was another drumline. Two alphas made short eye contact between the two packs. No smiles, no frowns.

A freshmen asked, "What's Lightbane?"

Emily told them it was their name. "Don't you forget it. It's who we are, it's a piece of you now." Her eyes began to water. "Tattoo it on your bodies, I don't care. You guys better not forget this."

"Ally. What's happening?" Jenna asked without purpose because she had known.

Marcy knew as well. She felt her eyes get red and she wanted to go away but couldn't.

"I'm getting our source back. We have to do this anyways. I'm not going to argue about it."

Marcy was beginning to cry too. "Are you guys really going to do this?"

Sarah prepared herself. Her eyes watered aswell. Emily was a waterfall, the water leaked down her glittery eyes and made perfect sparkly tears.

The all exchanged hugs. "I'm really going to miss you guys I can't even believe this is a thing because it's so cruel."

Jenna was experiencing more than the others. She wasn't just losing her friends, but also the chances with ever being with Ally ever again. Her tears were not controlled, and the glitter ran down around her face. "Ally you're not going to remember are you?"

There it was. The upperclassmen not only gave up their werewolf bodies, but every memory of drumline.

Ally shook her head. "I am sorry." She fixed a single hair around Jenna's face. "I really do love you." Ally started to cry as well. "It really hurt when I said those things."

Jenna felt Ally's face get close and she twisted her head left. Their lips locked, the kiss deepened. Ally hand one hand on Jenna's jaw and the other around her hip. Jenna's hand was on Ally's arm and the other went around her back and felt the small strands of hair near her scapula.

"Don't forget, please. Don't do it." Emily lastly said. "I might be mean to you guys but your my family."

Sarah and the snare line passed through the glowing light. The light clung to them like fog and pulled at them.

After a moment of sobbing Emily passed through it, the source pulsed and glowed, but it still remained the same demanding shade of red. It was waiting for the last alpha.

Ally joined in too; and the rest of the pack watched as their uniforms turned into casual clothes. Their makeup washed away and so did their memories.

The drumline seniors left the st. Luis that very same night in their own cars provided by parents. The rest went back to Southview the following morning.

The drumline had learned a fate worse then death was knowing what once was could never be again. It was seeing your brothers and sisters and knowing them and loving them, and at the same time knowing all they saw in you was a band nerd stranger.

It was the price they paid for the band and for the future years of drumline. It was the price they paid after every good season, and every good one to return.