CHAPTER I

- overture –

[Liam]

Liam had expected his first day at sixth form to have a little more bang to it, a bit more pizzazz, fanfares and confetti falling from the sky, that sort of thing. So far there had been long talks from the headmistress, awkward ice-breakers and paperwork. The school was huge: part of it old brickwork and towers with ivy trailing up the walls, but with two or three more modern white plastered buildings, newly refurbished with gaping wide windows and flat roofs.

He'd met his form teacher and all of his classmates and then quickly forgotten them. The pretty year 13 girl leading them around, a short brunette – Pearl was the name on the sticky label – spoke too quickly, a faint blush colouring her cheeks, gesturing at the buildings and the tennis courts and the blocky buildings, leading their ragtag group to their next location, probably for another team building exercise or something.

"Anyway," Pearl said, looking at her timetable again. "I think we have...you'll meet your, um, new family members now. It's just this thing we do to get you all settled in. Basically, all the new year twelves get to meet a couple of people in the year above, so you have someone with experience, say if you need someone to go to for advice or something, especially about applying for universities and stuff, you know?"

She ushered their group into the cafeteria, where, sure enough, they were greeted by a fairly apathetic-looking group of year 13's milling around the coffee machines. Some of them looked up and nudged each other as they shuffled in, smirking. One of the girls outright squealed 'they're so cute!' despite the fact they were only a year younger than them, and Liam sighed inwardly. His parents were probably going to be assholes. The best kind of people.

Pearl went along with a list of names, grouping people together and sending them off with a list of questions to ask each other. Finally, she stopped in front of him.

"Okay..." she said, looking up at him and smiling briefly before glancing down at the list. She was prettier up close, with a soft dusting of freckles across her nose, wide hazel eyes and brown hair tied into a loose plait hanging over one shoulder. "You are...number 7." She pointed at the plastic picnic tables that made up most of the cafeteria, the front row of which had papers with large numbers taped to them. "Anthea and Neil. They're nice people, so don't worry about it, yeah?" She smiled again, and Liam secretly wished she was his mother, or sister, or however he and Niel and Anthea were supposed to be related.

He'd been at table 7 for a couple of minutes when someone sat down opposite him: tall and slender, with straight brown hair and green eyes framed by a pair of glasses. "Liam, yeah?" she asked, and when she nodded, continued: "I kinda hoped my son would be a bit taller."

Ouch.

"Watch out," he told her, "the short people are going to stage an uprising one day."

"That'll be cute."

"Of course, the ones who patronise us are the ones we'll lynch first."

"Better start thinking. How are you going to reach the top shelves if you lynch all the tall people?"

"High shelves will be abolished in the new world order, obviously."

"Well, let me know how your little coup progresses," Anthea said.

"Alright." Liam looked around, noticing that most of the groups had already got together by now. "So is it just you? Wasn't I supposed to have a dad?" he asked.

"Who, Neil? He couldn't make it," Anthea said lazily. "Don't worry, he's in a better place now."

"You killed my father?"

She smirked, and tapped the question sheet in front of them. "That question's not on the list."

Liam looked down at the 'Getting To Know You' list. What subjects are you studying? How many brothers and sisters do you have? What's your favourite colour? "Are you serious?" he groaned. Anthea leaned over to get a better look.

"Wow, that's pretty dire," Anthea commented. "Points for Originality, Foxhill."

"It's like they think we're six years old," he said. "Who needs instructions to socialise?"

"Well, at least they haven't asked us to share an interesting fact about ourselves," Anthea said.

"Dodged a bullet there."

"I think I'll do us both a favour and quietly dispose of this." Anthea took the paper from in front of him, folded it into a small square and slipped it into her pocket. "Good. This never happened. So, how's your induction to Foxhill been working out for you so far.?"

Liam shrugged. "Pretty uninteresting. No offence."

"Oh, don't worry, it's only the start of a year of boredom," Anthea replied. "This is just training day."

"Noo," Liam whined, putting his head on the desk. "I'm too young to spend the rest of my life being bored. I...I never even knew my father..."

Anthea smiled. "Cheer up, son. I'll buy you something to make you up for it."

The cafeteria was closed, so they walked into the main school building, where the vending machines were apparently situated, in an easy silence. Liam looked around the school, trying to familiarise himself with the surroundings. The College was small, with only 400 students, but being in a new place was overwhelming, and he wasn't fond of being overwhelmed.

They'd been walking for a couple of minutes when Anthea, apropos of nothing, sprung the question: "So, what's your favourite Celebrations chocolate?"

Liam hesitated, thrown for a second. "Twix, I guess?"

She nodded. "Best Pokémon region?"

"Huh. Sinnoh."

"Star sign?"

"Gemini."

"I see. How many hats do you own?"

He glanced at her quizzically. "Why are you asking so many questions all of a sudden?"

"Hush, heathen. Answer the questions."

"Fine. Hats..." he thought this over. "Less than five. Maybe two?"

"Favourite Harry Potter book?"

"Half-Blood Prince."

"Seriously?"

"I'm allowed."

"Fair point. How do you like your eggs?"

"Fried? Where do you get these?"

"End of Inception? Dream or Reality?"

"90% sure it was a dream."

"You're so heartless."

"So, did I pass?"

"Pass what?" she said, with a quick smile. "That was the real 'Getting to know you' list. Consider your initiation to Foxhill Park College...complete."

The bell rang then, signalling the end of the day, and the doors to the classrooms all seemed to open at the same time, filling the narrow corridor with students. If Liam was overwhelmed before, he was completely disorientated now, surrounded by a seething gaggle of kids pushing and weaving around each other to get to their lockers. Amidst the chaos, someone grabbed hold of Anthea's shoulder, and she turned to face him.

"You alright, Jason?"

"Thank God I've found you," he said, panting slightly. "Haven't you checked your phone recently? Something's happened."

"Oh dear. What is it?"

"Ezra's dropped out of the play," he said.

She looked surprised then. Liam shot Anthea a look: play? He didn't think she looked like she'd been involved with theatre people. She raised her eyebrows at him in response, and then turned back to Jason. "Why?"

"Smashed his leg. Some kind of rollerblading accident, from what I've managed to pick up."

"Poor guy. Well, just tell his understudy he's been promoted. He'll be thrilled, I'm sure."

"Yeah we've told him," Jason said, "but have you heard the guy sing? Like ever?"

Anthea hesitated, seeming to understand where he was going with this. "Do I want to?"

Jason shook his head. "Absolutely not."

"Shit."

"CC's doing emergency auditions now," Jason said. "You'd better head up and see him."

Liam perked up at this. If there was one thing he could do, it was sing. He'd never been part of a choir (team projects were never really his thing), never had formal training (waay too much effort), but from what he'd heard of himself he'd come to the conclusion that he was pretty decent at it. His parents were serious and had never really approved of him vocalising his way through the dishes or while he was doing chores, and they'd probably flip out if he ended up in a theatre production, but what the hell? New start, new experiences, that kind of thing. Taking bold new steps into the unknown. Carpe Diem, and all that jazz.

"Oh, I bet he's taking this well," Anthea said, shouldering her bag. She looked at Liam and hesitated. "Oh. Sorry, Liam, I'm gonna have to leave you now. Don't take it personally or anything. Apart from your height you're everything I could have hoped for in a child."

Liam shrugged. "You know, I'm pretty decent at singing," he said, as casually as he could manage.

"You want to audition?" Anthea looked at him, silently assessing him. An expectant silence filled the gap between them. Then: "You were judging me earlier."

"I was not judging you," he replied indignantly. "I was just surprised, that's all. You seemed more like an orchestra type. Or chess club. Or like, debating."

"Hm, two out of three," Anthea replied, a small smile quirking at the edge of her mouth. "Chess just bores me." Liam grinned, impressed at his apparent deduction prowess. "But I want you to take it seriously, ok?" she continued, getting serious again. "You just got here, I mean. It's not like a one-off thing. The Music and Arts festival is in December, so you'd have to commit to this. That is, if you even get it."

Liam nodded. "It's cool."

"Don't you want to have a look around first, check out what the school has to offer?"

"If it's a year of boredom, I think I'll be alright. Besides, you're already part of at least three clubs."

"Alright. Come on up, then. We'll see what you're made of." Anthea said, nodded goodbye to Jason and started walking down the corridor, taking brisk, determined strides so Liam had to trot to keep up. This was degrading, he was sure.

"Does this mean you're not gonna buy me anything, then?" Liam asked, as Anthea reached a flight of stairs and started to climb.

She smiled. "That was a joke."

"Oh," Liam said, disappointed. "Well, will you at least stop making comments about my height?"

"If you get this part, honey, I'll do both."

"It's nice that you have so much faith in me."

"It's tough love. The world is a mean place."

"Whatever you say, mum."

They climbed two flights, then a third. They were starting on a fourth when Liam started to wonder where they were headed. This far away from the hustle of the main classrooms the area was quiet, the silence jarring after the rush below them. Anthea pushed open a set of double doors and headed down another corridor, then descended some stairs, rounded a corner, and suddenly it was lively again. People rushed between rooms, bursting from one door, crossing the large square room that served as some sort of atrium for the area, before pushing open another and being lost from view. The sound of music was everywhere – an exuberant piano melody here, then a scale on a violin, a girl's voice, high and confident – sometimes discordant, sometimes oddly in harmony with each other, mixing and weaving between each other in bursts of noise. It wasn't just that the area was so much more modern than the rest of the school – white walls and grey carpeting, large windows that let in the afternoon light and arty lighting – the atmosphere was somehow completely different here. Liam liked it already.

"This is the school's arts centre," Anthea explained, still power walking. "Hidden nice and far away so we don't disturb anyone. All the practice rooms, music tech, stages, storage, art galleries and workshops, all in one place. Here we go, the theatre."

She pushed open one final door and they walked onto a balcony overlooking a small theatre, probably able to seat about 100 people. Someone was singing on the stage downstairs, doing a rendition of 'Young and Beautiful'. Liam listened for a while, and then got bored and turned his attention back to Anthea and the guy she was talking to. He was doing a good job but he figured his voice was pretty generic. Nothing to write home about or anything.

"...a disaster!" the guy was saying. He was sitting in a swivel chair with his feet up on the balcony ledge, glasses perched on his forehead and his jumper tied around his shoulders, undeniably freaking out. "Ezra is the only guy I know who can act and sing as well as he can, and then he decides to put himself in hospital three months before we're supposed to put this thing on. Why did we choose that guy to be his understudy? Was it a pity thing?"

"His acting's brilliant, you can't deny that." Anthea reminded him. "And it was pretty unlikely Ezra was ever going to drop out like this."

"And auditions so far are going terribly," he continued, "Nobody has the kind of voice we're looking for; they can't project, or they can't hit the higher notes, or they're already in the play – I mean, I tried to tell MacKenzie that you can't sing two parts at the same time but she auditioned anyway – and if we don't get someone to replace him soon this is going to the biggest flop in Foxhill's history. I refuse to direct a sub-standard performance, Anthea. This is terrible."

"How long have you been auditioning for?" she asked mildly.

"Like...half an hour?"

"You're a mess, Clarence."

He frowned. "I know," he admitted, "but at least one of us is trying to fix this. Who's the kid? Did you tell him he's not supposed to be on the balcony?"

"Slipped my mind. Alright Liam, get down there and blow us away."

"Wait, he's auditioning? He's not even in musical theatre; I know everyone in musical theatre."

"Calm yourself, he just got here. And if you like him, he can just join, right? Besides, he tells me he's got a not-awful voice, so technically I'm doing you a favour."

"'Not awful?' What does that even mean? I hope he's not just saying that just to impress you because I'm not in the mood to listen to some amateur embarrass himself out there. I've got so much work and this is just the last thing I needed..."

Anthea caught his eye and nodded down at the stage, and Liam took the hint and left the balcony. Anything beat listening to CC's whining. He looked around, found a small map pinned to the noticeboard and followed the instructions to the auditorium, heading down a flight of stairs and eventually emerging onto the stage, blinking up into the broad lights.

"What do I do?"

"Never been in an audition before, is that it?" CC's voice echoed from the balcony. "Just sing. Christ, I don't need this."

He hesitated, taking a few seconds to find something he wanted to sing, and then just jumped straight in. There was no awkward fumbling while he tried to find his bearings, no sense of pressure. From the first note he felt the confidence in him build up and then project outwards, filling the stage with sound. As he made his way through the song he felt something building up in him, the kind of release he always felt when he sang like this, out-loud and shamelessly, some sort of euphoria . When he hit the second bridge it just grabbed him and ran; he started to improvise, adding melisma onto the ends of phrases, letting his voice climb up and then drop back down again in, following the melody in his mind, completely lost in the song. By the time he was finished he was slightly giddy, startled by the sound gentle clapping from a couple of people in the audience.

He shielded his eyes against the glare of the lights and grinned up at CC. "How was that?"

"Well..." his voice was petulant. "We'll get back to you. Maybe. Anyone else? You? Come on, then, I haven't got all day."

Another guy hopped up onto the stage, so Liam stepped down and grabbed his bag from where he'd dropped it, slinging it over his shoulder and humming happily to himself. He should sing in front of an audience more often, he decided. Even if there were only a handful of people in the auditorium, the experience was exhilarating. As he made his way up the steps towards the exit at the back, he heard someone ran up to him, before falling in step beside him. Liam looked over at them, surprised.

"Hey," the guy said, tucking his hands into his pockets with a friendly grin. He was much taller than Liam, a trend he'd come to expect by now, with messy black hair and friendly grey eyes. "I heard you singing just now. You were pretty good."

"Thanks," Liam said, wondering if this was going anywhere.

"I was wondering. Do you need to be anywhere right now? I'd like to try something out, if it's alright?"

"Try what?"

"Just some vocal exercises," he said, waving a dismissive hand. The multi-coloured collection of string bracelets and rubber bands around his wrist flicked up and down his arm as he moved. "Judging by your act just now, you won't have a problem."

Cool, he thought to himself. More singing. This Carpe Diem thing was really working out for him so far.

"Yeah, alright," he said. "I've got a minute."

"Awesome," he said, and grinned again. "Let's steal one of the practise rooms. If we're lucky there'll be one free..."

There was one free, a tiny one right at the end of the corridor where the practise rooms were located. Glancing through the windows as he walked past, Liam could see people getting lessons, or just having a jam session with friends, immersed in their music. Even when they walked into the room and closed the door, he could still hear the music pushing against each other to be heard, muffled slightly by the walls.

The guy sat down cross-legged on the piano stool and pulled up a seat for Liam next to him, playing a couple of chords and then tracing out an arpeggio. "Repeat after me. Well, the piano."

There was something oddly soporific about singing arpeggios. He didn't do it often, but after a while he started to settle into a routine, enjoying the way his voice arced up and down the scales, gradually climbing until it started to strain slightly and he was having to focus on getting the notes to come out clear. He'd never done this kind of thing before, and it interested him, testing the limits of his voice in a quantitative way.

They'd been at it for a while, it seemed, when he suddenly faltered, breaking off mid-arpeggio. "Nope. Can't hit that," he said, and the boy nodded at him, playing the note again.

"A4," he said, as if that was supposed to mean something. "That's good, considering we didn't warm up or anything. Want something to drink?"

He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag and handed it over to him, and Liam took it gratefully.

"Ok," he said, when he was finished. "I'm gonna play you a short phrase, and I'll ask you to sing it back to me."

He played a cluster of random notes on the piano, and when he sang it back he changed the phrase, made it longer, more jumpy, less coherent, and then stuck some chords underneath it so he had to tease out the melody and remember it and sing it back. He scrunched up his face in concentration and tried to pick out the notes, got lost, and right at the end managed to latch onto it, finishing slightly uncertainly.

"Good," the guy said cheerfully, although Liam doubted it. "Now sing it again, but really quietly." Then really loudly, then gradually fading to quiet. Then normally, but changing abruptly to loudly whenever he gestured for him to do so. Then the same but an octave higher. Liam was exhausted by the time he told him to stop.

The boy nodded to himself, seemingly pleased. "Good. Good. You're new here, aren't you? I haven't seen you around before."

Liam nodded. "First day and everything. So...what just happened?"

"It was a test, but you probably realised that," he said enthusiastically. "But you did great. You've got a brilliant range. What would you think about joining our group?" he asked, leaning in.

"Your...group?"

"There are only five of us, so it's nothing really formal or anything. It would fit around Musical Theatre rehearsals, if you make it, and you've got just the kind of voice we've been looking for. I think you'd really like it. You looked like you were having fun on the stage back there."

Liam thought this over. He still hadn't been at school for more than a day, and had somehow get himself involved in two auditions. There were a lot of other clubs he was thinking of joining, and he'd never sung in a group before, but the idea appeared to him, and the musical theatre thing wasn't set in stone anyway. It could be pretty fun. He nodded.

"Yeah. I'd like to."

The boy grinned and stuck out a hand. "Brilliant. I'm Dom. Nice to meet you."

Liam shook it. "I –" he began, about to introduce himself, but Dom stopped him.

"Shh," he said, cutting him off. "Don't tell me. Pick a name."

"Pick a name? Dom's not your real name?"

He shook his head. "None of us use our real names. It's more fun that way," he explained. "I'll give you my number and you can text me when you decide on something. I'll tell you when we start rehearsals."

"Oh," Liam said, surprised. "Ok. Thanks."

Dom took his phone and created a new contact for himself, entering his name with a smiley face on the end. "Right, I've got to move out," he said cheerfully, once he was done. "Good Luck with your theatre thing!"

---

a/n: wow I am so bad at ending chapters. 

So, this is my camp nanowrimo 2015 novel. It's a horrible first-day-at-school chapter, and I apologise for that, but it gets better! Probably! I've got lots of content on my computer but it all needs serious editing. Comment and vote if you like it! Or if you don't. I'm flexible.

The video for this chapter is I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons, which is Liam's theme song and also just a really badass song in general.

And in case you're interested, my answers to Anthea's questionnaire are: Snickers, Hoenn, Pisces, Stick to the Status Quo, 2, Order of the Phoenix, scrambled, Luigi (DS)/Baby Mario (Wii),Not a dream (that would be so mean XD)

Thanks for reading!