Cute Imagines

Imagine 2: Drummer Boy Part 1

Imagine:

You slowly walk on the side walk to the huge band room, your heart pounding and your mind racing. It was the first marching band performance since you moved to the new school, and also the first time ever meeting the band. You know no one, and you wouldn't doubt it if they won't even let you touch the bass drums, let alone the snares.

You quietly push open the big double-doors, being greeted by many random outbursts from the different instruments inside. You go into the band room lobby and continue to yet another set of doors where you could see that the room behind it was filled with a swarm of high schoolers, all dressed in black with strips of gold here and there. No matter how closely you look, you can't seem to find the drum line or even the drum pit. Your vision is filled with just about every other instrument than percussion - flutes, clarinets, trumpets, mellophone, and anything in between. You shrug it off and decide to just go in. Someone'll probably point you in the right direction.

You slowly pull open the door, careful not to cause attention to yourself. Your eyes find what looks like the band director, who has black hair and is dressed in a black shirt and a pair of khaki pants. He turns his head from previously overlooking the room filled with musicians and looks straight at you with a pleased smile on his face.

"Ah, you must be Y/N! Good to meet you! I'm Mr. Cater. You're percussion, right?" He asked kindly. You nod shyly.

"Right. Your drum instructor, Mr. Robichaux, is in that room just there. He'll tell you what you should do. You'll do fine!" You nod again, heading towards the room he directed you towards.

***

You gently pull open one of the double-doors with the least noise possible, poking your head through the door before the rest of your body. Your eyes immediately fall on a drum line of about ten to fifteen drummers, all buzzing around, talking and laughing together. The drum teacher at the front of the room turned to you, a welcoming smile growing on his face.

"There's a snare drum and marching carrier over there for you. You can line up with the snare line on the far right side." He said. You nod and walk over to where you were told, picking up the snare and halter from the tiled floor the instructor pointed to. You put them on, trying out the instrument with your own drumsticks.

"Hey Austin guess wha-" You heard a voice being cut off and turned around to see who was talking. It was a boy who was a few inches taller than you with dark brown hair and eyes the color of chocolate, who also had a snare drum strapped on his shoulders. To sum things up, he didn't look half that bad. His cheeks started to turn a shade of pink, realizing I wasn't the person he had been expecting to see. "Sorry... Wrong person. I guess you're not Austin, are you?" He said half heartedly with a bit of shyness somewhere in there. You smiled and shook your head.

"No, I'm Y/N. I'm new here." You explain. He nodded.

"I'm Isaac. You play snare drum too, right?" He asked.

"No, I play tuba." You say almost seriously.

"Right. Could've guessed...," He said, a smile breaking out across his face.

"Alright, line up! It's time to go. Y/N, just follow Isaac's lead. You'll do fine." Mr. Robichaux announced. I nodded meekly and looked up at Isaac. He gave me a smile and everyone began to walk outside to the gates just outside the busy football field.

***

"Oh my glob, I can't do this." You say to Isaac while you are waiting by the gate to go on the field with the rest of the band. You know you just met Isaac, but he's the only one you've got to talk to, and plus, you feel like you can trust him.