DEMIGODS. (Percico/Pernico)

˚‧º·Chapter Six‧º·˚

As I look back on my high school years, I would definitely say that detention was my least favorite part of it all. I got at least one a month because of talking during class, being late, not turning in an assignment, or just not paying attention. Normally for others, it would just be a warning, but I'm me, and I was a repeat offender, so it was an automatic detention. I didn't waste my time on complaining or overthinking it. I just went. Sometimes, it helped me get my homework done. There was no devices allowed, so we weren't supposed to listen to music.

Unfortunately, instead of a somewhat blissful hour of sitting at a desk in an empty classroom, this particular detention took place in the basement: a dark, grey, concrete-walled nightmare with slippery tile floors and a feeling that someone was watching you no matter where you went down there. It would help if there were less flickering lights, or if at least someone put up one of those "Hang in There!" posters with the cat hanging from a tree. It would at least distract the students walking down the hallways from the feeling someone with a knife was going to jump around a corner and attack them.

This fateful detention was alike some of the others I had, but it was the most important one, now that I see it. The one I met Leo was up there, but this was the single most important detention in all of my high school career. Because this was the one I met the love of my life. Well, technically, I already had met him, but he always was sitting in the back of class, quiet as a dormouse, and always avoiding my gaze, so I never had an actual conversation with the guy. I didn't notice the cute freckles that splashed the bridge of his nose, or how good his shampoo smelled. I didn't notice his chocolate eyes or how they sparkled when someone mentioned something he was interested in.

Well, back to the detention. I was assigned to organize the supply closet (again), humming to myself some Green Day song and trying to think of something that was not depressing. My phone was sitting up on Mr. di Angelo's desk, all alone and afraid in the Devil's domain, or else I would've had my playlist on, which was fortunate, as if it was on, I would not have heard the beautiful piano playing a few doors down the winding labyrinth that was the eerie basement hallway.

It started out as soft, gentle notes, but soon grew a little louder. The song being played was unfamiliar, but it was pleasant. The intensity wavered back and forth as the person pounded on the keys, the notes reverberating down the hallway.

The supply closet forgotten, overpowered tremendously by my peaked curiosity, I began to follow the notes. I travelled down the hallway, the music growing louder and louder as whoever was playing put all his heart and emotions into the chords he was creating. I wetted my dry lips with my tongue as I reached the door that held the piano. I creaked it open silently so the person would not hear me, but I did not have to worry, as he was too lost in his music to sense my presence. His skilled fingers were dancing across the keys, the dark brown hair swaying with the melody the piano produced.

Only one thought crossed my mind at the time: I needed him in my band. Even if my band didn't exist anymore. I would create a new band just so he could be in it. Little did I know that this would be one of the greatest decisions I would make in my life. As the notes came to a rest, and he lifted his tired fingers from the instrument, I whistled in amazement.

He jolted and turned on the bench swiftly, his face a shade of pink and his doe eyes widened dramatically. Once he saw who had been behind him, his blush darkened even more so.

"That was awesome!" I complimented.

He seemed to be searching his mind for a way to respond, but it soon came out as a cute, stuttered, "Th-thank you."

"What was that song?"

"I call it 'Cough Syrup'," he responded. "I... I wrote it myself."

My eyebrows raised in surprise. "That was really good. You wrote it by yourself?"