LUKE HEMMINGS.
It was the first day of school, and the only thing Luke could think about all day was band practice after school. No, not rock band band practice, but marching band. Luke was the drum major for his high school’s marching band, and he couldn’t love it more if he even tried. He didn’t know what it was, but there was just something about standing up high and waving his arms around to match the beat of music that got him so hype, and he couldn’t fall out of love with the activity.
Luke was definitely hated by a majority of the band for this love of his, though. Not only did he get the right to boss the band members around for messing up during drill and automatically called a suck up for doing things for the band director, but he was titled as underserving of the band drum major title for the mere fact that he was only a Junior. Mostly, the Seniors got the title of drum major, and only really talented Juniors would get maybe co-drum major, if they were lucky. But Luke was the one and only drum major, and it was simply because he was talented at what he did. But most didn’t believe it.
He did have a couple best friends in the band, though, but only a few. Ashton, who was a part of drum line, was one of his friends. He and Ashton had went to school together since they were young and played in the band together since middle school, so they automatically stuck together. Ashton was one of the few people that were actually happy for Luke when he got the drum major title. Another one of Luke’s friends, actually his best friend, was Michael. Michael and Luke didn’t meet until their Freshman year, when Michael auditioned for color guard and Luke auditioned for band. They instantly clicked when Luke noticed Michael wearing a Nirvana shirt to practice one day, and it was ultimate friendship over the mutual liking of Nirvana from there.
After school, Luke went to the band room and found Michael in the guard room. He stood by the door, since it was ultimately frowned upon to let non-guard members into the guard room. “Michael, come on, practice is about to start. I need to go fill up my water bottle,” Luke whined, banging on the wall to try to get Michael’s attention. He was standing in the corner doing something with white tape and his sword object—Luke didn’t really understand color guard.
“Luke, I swear to god, give me like ten seconds. I’m trying to tape this sabre, and it’s not cooperating,” Michael swore.
Luke counted to ten out loud, just to annoy Michael, and by the time he reached 9 he figured it worked because Michael was tossing his tape and sword object onto the ground and storming out of the room, and Luke was quickly following behind. “So, how was your day, Michael?” Luke piped up, practically skipping down the hallway, still just doing things to annoy Michael.
“Shitty,” Michael said simply, stopping beside the water fountain and leaning against the wall. Luke furrowed his eyebrows as he glanced up at Michael, cocking his head to the side, as if asking him to further explain his so called shitty day, and then Luke proceeded to fill his water bottle. “It was school, Luke. It was shitty. And now I have shitty band practice and shitty drummer Ashton keeps giving me dirty looks, and you’re being shitty and annoying, and I’m in a shitty mood.”
Luke rolled his eyes at Michael, even though Michael couldn’t see him because he was currently staring down at the water fountain. “Michael, come on. It’s not that shitty. You need to relax, babe, honestly, you have like one math class, and it’s a basic class. And then you have, like, what, band and art and music history, right?” Luke questioned, twisting the cap back on his water bottle and following after Michael as they made their way back to the band room. “And I am not being shitty. You love me. Or else you wouldn’t hang out with me.”
