https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dnn42FvXcAAAzcq.jpg

Keith lets himself into the quaint house, passing through the kitchen and waving to Hunk's mother, a plump, gorgeous woman who's on the phone with one of her clients. She waves back to Keith, smiling pleasantly, then motions to the basement door, mouthing "They're down there" while her client babbled on the phone. Keith smiles at her before opening the basement door and slipping quietly onto the stairwell before shutting the door behind him and padding down the carpeted steps. 

Immediately, the heavy aroma of Nag Champa fills his lungs and he sighs at its familiarity. "Sorry I'm late," he says apologetically as he descends the stairs, shrugging off his backpack at the bottom of the staircase and plopping himself down onto the couch in between Hunk and Shiro. Katie stands across the room in front of her synth, fucking around on her launch pad and occasionally letting loose an odd riff or chord before looking up for approval. Shiro slings his arm comfortably around Keith, the heavy scent of his pine cologne infiltrating the Nag Champa for a brief moment. Keith is barely comfortable with the contact, still getting used to this whole "friends" thing. 

Shiro, a senior and the oldest of the band at 18, has a slim, graceful figure, not yet as bulked up as he would become in a few years, and the bleached streak of hair that usually hangs in front of his forehead is absent. His chest is wide and firm and a bass guitar lays across his lap, three of its strings loose and spaghetti-like as he tunes the E-string.

Hunk, who sits on Keith's other side, is one year younger than Shiro. He's on Pidge's laptop, searching venues accepting applicants in the surrounding area. They haven't played anywhere big yet, but they've got a few fans who've started a Tumblr fan page for them, updating its audience on Voltron's gigs and new releases on YouTube. Keith doesn't know how he feels about the attention, but the other band members seem to like it so he tries to see the bright side too. 

Hunk sits back on the couch,  scrubbing at his five o'clock shadow. "I think we should start writing some of our own songs."

Keith looks up. "Write our own? That would make us... sort of a real band."

"We are a real band," Shiro reminds Keith. "We've got a name and everything."

Katie walks forward and leans against the wall. She's a freshman, wearing one of her older brother's hoodies and a pair of headphones slung around her pale neck. Her amber eyes are bright and wide and her long brown hair frames her round face. She touches her index finger to her nose, smirking as she says "Not it. I'm not good at writing songs. Rhyming's hard."

Hunk rolls his eyes. "I nominate Keith." He pokes Keith's side, grinning. "Keithie-pie's gotta have some dark, edgy thoughts circling his brain, right?"

Shiro laughs, looking at Keith. "You're basically Romeo. All emo and full of teenage angst."

Keith groans and rolled his eyes. Hunk takes the opportunity. "O Keith-eo, Keith-eo, wherefore art thou Keith-eo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet." 

Katie cackles and Shiro can't help but smile. "I've seen your grades, Keith," Shiro comments knowingly, "I know that you're acing English easy and that's more than any of us can say. Just try to write something! See if you can get that angsty brain going."

"Back up, back up," Keith says, leaning away from Shiro and quirking an eyebrow. "How have you seen my grades?"

"Your mom." Shiro smirked. 

Keith restrains himself from punching his best friend. "No seriously, Shiro."

"Keith, if you can't accept my deep, personal relationship with your bombshell of a mother, then-" 

"THAT'S IT!" Keith roars, laughing maniacally as he grabs a pillow off the couch and mercilessly starts whacking Shiro over the head with it.

And, just like that, the basement erupts into a giant pillow fight, the teenagers' laughter resounding throughout the walls of the house as they enjoy the dog days of summer. 

...

Keith stepped up to Hunk's front door, hesitating for a moment before knocking. It was a rainy Saturday afternoon, which Keith didn't mind. The sky was dark and beautiful, the rain falling from it in fat drops that landed on the glistening lawn, which was dotted with dandelions and buttercups. 

There was a brief pause, then the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door before it swung inward and Hunk's sunny smile appeared before Keith. "Hey, Keithie-pie! Glad you could make it," he said happily, motioning Keith in. Kicking off his faithful Vans at the door, Keith let a small smile grace his lips. He'd missed this house. 

The kitchen, probably the cleanest part of the house in its entirety, was obviously in use at the moment. There were several large mixing bowls out on the counter, along with measuring cups, spoons, a spatula, and a large square dish filled with brownie batter. Keith looked at the brownies suspiciously. He didn't say anything, but were those...?

"Shiro and Pidge are downstairs already." Hunk's voice interrupted Keith's thoughts and the 20 year old nodded appreciatively, walking towards the basement. 

He looked back over his shoulder for a moment, asking "You'll be down soon too, right? Can't let the party start without you."

Hunk chuckled, "Don't worry, just gotta pop these bad boys in the oven and then I'll be down."

Keith nodded and headed down the carpeted basement stairs. He smiled when the main room came into view. It was almost exactly as he remembered it. On the left, the instruments were set up: a bass, electric, and acoustic guitar, a drumset, and a synth with a launchpad popped up beside it. Microphones lay in a tangled heap of wire on the floor.

On the right, a large couch spanned most of the length of the wall. Pidge lounged across it lazily, scrolling through his phone with a bored expression and Shiro was bent over an incense tray, flicking a lighter to the tip of the stick before blowing out the flame. The smoldering ember at the tip of the incense leaked a thin stream of smoke and, almost immediately, Keith could smell the fragrance. He sighed inwardly, relaxing quickly. 

Pidge looked up from his phone, a smile gracing his lips when his eyes found Keith's. "O Keith-eo, Keith-eo... Always the late one." 

Keith grinned, scratching the back of his head embarrassed. "Sorry about that."

Pidge shrugged, rolling off the couch and slinking towards the synth with a disdainful expression. He flicked on the keyboard and played a few random notes, plunking out a sloppy melody before sighing. "I think it's gonna take us a while to get back to where we were. I can't remember a thing," he admitted half-heartedly. 

Shiro shrugged, slinging his bass guitar around his neck and plucking a few notes, "Just take it slow. We're doing this for fun, remember?"

Pidge nodded, looking away. Keith could sense his discomfort from across the room and it only took him a few moments to recognize the source: the last time Pidge had been here, he hadn't transitioned yet. Keith would bet anything that being back in the basement was bringing back some memories that Pidge probably wanted to forget. 

Pidge wasn't the only one, though. Shiro had been practically untouchable in high school- he was a popular jock with the height, muscle mass, and stunning jawline to surround himself with adoring friends. Hunk had no problems either, his classically sunny disposition made it pretty easy for him to make friends. 

Pidge and Keith had had it bad, though. Pidge began transitioning in junior year and, though his family had been supportive, things at school were really difficult. When he cut his hair and started asking people to address him with he/him pronouns, he ended up losing almost all of his friends. A boy who had once been almost invisible, hiding out with the other techies and computer nerds, was suddenly put on display. 

The cruel whispers, then shouts as he walked down the hallway, the anonymous DMs with hateful, disgusting messages, the laughing, judging comments that were innocent enough until you thought about them... Pidge already had enough stress on his shoulders due to SAT and ACT testing, hoping to get high enough scores so that he'd get a ride to one of his top choices with a scholarship; he could barely handle the bullying on top of that. 

They tormented Pidge until he graduated. Even when he met the rest of the band, he'd never talk about the bullies and, no matter how much Shiro begged, Pidge would never reveal their names. Keith knew how much it broke Shiro's heart to watch Pidge suffer- it broke Keith's heart too- but Pidge made his decision for a reason and now, in college, things were better for him, but Keith knew that it would be hard to leave all of that behind. 

For Keith, he knew he didn't have it nearly as bad as Pidge did, but middle and high school were never easy for him. He had been what his mother had called "very dark". Pidge had told him he was "dangerously emo". With a lip ring, naturally dark hair, and frequent visits to Hot Topic, Keith certainly wasn't known for having friends. And, for him, it was okay. He was happy smoking pot and listening to My Chemical Romance and Sleeping With Sirens alone in his room and, whenever the mere thought of loneliness graced his mind, he'd go out and skateboard for hours, not caring where he went or how long he stayed out, just wishing he could run away from the feeling. It got really bad sometimes. 

But, luckily, that was when Shiro found him. He was a sophomore when Shiro, the tall, handsome jock, toting a gym bag and a lacrosse stick, stopped Keith in the hallway. "Hey, I'm new here. Can you tell me which field I'm supposed to go to? It's tryouts today and I have no idea where I'm going."

And the rest was history.

Keith shook himself from his stupor, walking over to the electric guitar (glossy red- one of the prettiest things Keith had ever seen) and picking it up carefully. Pidge was asking Shiro something about how the band had formed and Keith gradually started paying attention to the conversation again. 

"I didn't meet you until I went over to your house for the first time, I think," Shiro pondered. "I was hanging out with Matt and I think you exploded the Wifi or something."

Pidge rolled his eyes. "I did not 'explode the Wifi'," he said matter-of-factly, fingers curled in air-quotes. "You really are dense when it comes to technology, Shiro."

"I'm sorry I'm not a tech expert like some people," Shiro said indignantly. He turned up his nose at Pidge. "You were too young to join the band, you should be thanking me."

"It wasn't my choice- Matt made me do it so I'd 'make some friends'. He even paid me to go to our first meet and that's  what I call child labor," Pidge replied saucily, adjusting the wires that lead from the synth to the outlet in the wall. 

Shiro rubbed his temples. Just then, Hunk came bounding down the stairs, throwing off his oven mitts and grabbing his drum sticks from the low table in front of the couch. "Ready to rock n' roll?" he asked the group excitedly. 

"Never say that again," Keith deadpanned. 

...

hehehe sorry this is so late!! i wrote a bit more but decided to split it into two chapters instead because this one got a little long, hope that's ok!

thank u sm for reading, n I'll see u next update, which should (hopefully) be soon!

qotd: if u were on death row and had to choose what ur last meal would be, what would u choose?

love u!!
-cal