Holy Smokes! || JeongChan

Front Ensemble Faggots

Today's the day.

What my 200 band members and I have been working on for hundreds of hours.

Our first marching show.

Of course, the football players are just there for before and after entertainment.

I sigh, feeling conflicted over the contrast of the fun I'll have in the stands versus spending 4 hours with Chan.

But regardless! I intend to make this the best game ever!

I smile to myself, with excessive blinking taking over.

But then I'm reminded that I'm in 4th period though the sound of Chan laughing.

"You look like a freak smiling to yourself!" He laugh giggles, and I merely sigh.

For the past few days, every tic and grimace would earn a reaction from Chan, and it was never good.

Jisung turns around and looks at me, then Chan.

"Are you gonna keep letting him do that?" He asks, and I look down.

"Don't worry. I think I can handle it."

I know exactly what I'll do— and it has to do with a little game we play in the stands on game night.

After being thrown out of the car by my mom(as usual), I arrive in my uniform three hours after school ends in the cafeteria. I make my way to the percussion table— and of course I run into Chan while I go to my seat!

"Wow. I knew the band uniform was nerdy, but you look like a total fag!" He laughs.

I give him a pinched grin, preparing myself to set up the full blow of tonight's antics.

"Well I s-sure hope so— hm!" I say, walking towards him, daring to get close to his face.

"How else is a gay guy like me supposed to look?" I laugh, his eyes sinking in.

"Retarded and a fag, I'd expect no less from you" He spits, backing up back into his seat.

I smile seeing him back down, and I make my way to chenle and our other friends.

Once our section is called, we get into our marching uniforms and get into line to march out.

Here we go.

The sun sets as brady on bass laughs over some stupid joke I make. We dance to the stand tunes, mess around and (secretly) snack on food in uniform. It's just like how I remember it.

Of course, I don't remember chan throwing nuts at me when I'm distracted.

The surprise of the peanut hitting my cheek sends a larger, louder tic through me, clearly satisfying Chan as he high fives the freshman bass 5, chase, who is just as well a homophobic asshole.

"Jeez," I hear bass 1 sigh, and I give her a smile for not laughing.

"Guys, are you ready?" Chenle asks, and I smile mischievously.

"Of course—cunt—!" I smile, not even bothering to look at the reaction of Chan.

The percussionists then clump together, giggling as I swipe my hair back.

"What's going on?" I hear chan laugh nervously.

This is my chance.

I step down to the floor bleacher where chan stands in front of me with his drum, and I swing my face close enough to his where I can almost feel his eyelashes.

"We're playing chicken."

I'm on the band bus teehee