“Where the fuck were you!?” Niall hisses as soon as Louis sits down.
“I—, I… just, lost track of time.” he replies half-heartedly, keeping his eyes trained on the young male teacher before him and trying to catch up on all the vital information he’s missed.
Minutes later, however, it occurs to him in a dim and distant way, that he has no idea what the teacher — Mr. Aldrin, according to the messy block letters on the whiteboard behind him — is talking about. Yeah, he can hear words alright; practice, bands, soloists, stage presence, end of year grades. He just can’t understand what the bloody fuck they all mean.
‘Why had Harry Styles, the most popular and athletic guy at school, actually been friendly towards him?’ is all that seems to repeat in his head, drowning out whatever crucial assessment dates Mr Aldrin is listing.
As far as Louis could remember, Harry hadn't paid him any attention in the two years of attending the same school. Yeah, they were Facebook friends, but that was a result of that freshman period when everyone went around adding friends like crazy on the social networking site.And Harry’s friends, Nick and Ollie, have always been awful to Louis, so as a normal person would, he’d always assumed Harry wouldn’t treat him any different. It puzzles him dearly, so much that he even swivels his head back to make sure Harry’s still in the classroom and the whole encounter wasn’t an illusion— and oh god Harry’s looking at him.
So no, it’s not an illusion; Harry is real, that all just happened and Louis is very, very embarrassed.
Louis can feel his eyes widen, and he knows that to Harry it probably looks as if he’s just sighted a ghost, so he tries to look away. He really does. But then Harry’s smiling at him from the other side of the auditorium, and Louis’ muscles seem to have frozen.
It’s not a particularly bright, huge smile; the kind with the potential to cure cancer. No, it’s more of a half-arsed, closed lip smirk sort of thing. A knowing smile, maybe. A gesture of acknowledgement, perhaps. Louis doesn’t know, and instead opts to dart his gaze away as quickly as he can manage before he explodes into a thousand pieces of indescribable, confused feelings.
“So with that said, we’ll just get straight into it,” Louis hears Mr Aldrin’s rich, almost pretentious voice say, and nearly hyperventilates because what is ‘it’? He shoots Horan a worried look, and can only pray the blond was paying attention so at least one of them would know what the fuck they have to do this lesson. “The sheets being passed around contain your first assignment. Take care of them, as this task constitutes to almost half your grade.”
As if on cue, somebody taps Louis’ right shoulder and thrusts a stack of papers in front of him. He turns to his right and sees the same red streaked haired girl he’d squeezed past just minutes before to settle in his seat, which Horan had thankfully saved. He’s pretty sure that he stepped on the girl’s feet during his journey, and it shows on her face that she hasn’t quite forgiven him yet.
He takes a sheet, mouths a thank you and proceeds to read over the text;
MUSICAL PERFORMANCE: SEMESTER ONE PROJECT
Your task is to plan and execute a performance to be shown at a Year 9 assembly. Your performance must be entertaining, demonstrate your organisational and band management skills and also reflect your musical ability. The task is to be completed with your band; most bands will have already been formed, but if you don’t belong to a group yet arrangements can be made if you speak to Mr Aldrin. You will have two and a half months to plan and rehearse, and can either:
YOU ARE READING
It Might Get Loud
Fanfiction[DISCONTINUED FOR NOW] Harry isn't sure exactly how he ended up in an elective class titled 'Musical Performance'. He swore he marked it as his last preference, granted that the only instrument he's ever laid hands on is a recorder, and that was in...
