"How's the weather up there, Mumbo?"

"It's good, actually. At least I am not licking dirt since my marching band students can't trample me over. I actually have height."

It was no secret that Mumbo and Grian absolutely hate each other with every molecule in their body. During all the marching band bashes, where the tens of schools around the area come together to play for fun, they always sneer at each other on the field. The principals of school G-Team, Joe, and STAR, Doc, are fully aware of the situation.

To sum it up, both schools are rivals when it comes to sports. And considering that Mumbo is the drum major of STAR and Grian is the drum major of G-Team, it was no doubt that they would become enemies sooner than later. Thankfully, they are both seniors and when they go to college, they would never have to hear from one another again. Just less than a year to go and then they will never have to hold each other's throats again.

"At least I don't stick out like a sore thumb in the crowd!"

"At least I don't need a step stool whenever I need to grab a flute from the highest shelf!"

"I am average height for an eighteen-year-old!" Grian hollers out with his face reflecting the red color of a tomato. Mumbo snickers before putting on a fake pout.

"Aw, did I hurt your wittle feelings?" Mumbo mocks without any shame before smirking again at Grian's flushed face. Grian let out an exasperated huff and crosses his arms, looking away from his rival.

"Oh, ow, my heart hurts," Grian sarcastically spits out and presses his hands against his chest, obviously pretending to be hurt. "Come up with a better insult. I would like to see what you come up with the next band battle. Now excuse me, I have a band that is loyal and ready for me to grab their attention." 

Grian makes sure to shove his shoulder into Mumbo roughly before storming off of the football field. Mumbo laughs to himself, finding Grian amusing when he is tempered. Grian's white tailcoat trails behind him as he nears the edge of the long field line. 

Mumbo will admit that he is a little jealous of G-Team's modern-looking marching band uniforms. Since STAR is an older school, they have a ferocious and intense red, black, and grey uniform to show that they look dominant. Their upper half is red with different shades of grey streaks running diagonally. 

Their buttons, that trail down their uniforms, are painted gold to bring out some added color and more of the blazing element. Their caps have, as what some people like to say, black 'feather dusters' that are attached to their hats and strike through the air boldly.

G-Team is a more modern school that got built more recently. Their uniform palette has modern streaks of grey, white and light blue to compliment and they have long tails running among the back of their upper uniform with a large grey "G". 

Their pants shine a brilliant white and that proudly points out that they will have your attention at all times while they are on the field. Their caps consist of only one long, white, delicate feather that is silk to the touch and sticking straight up.

"Hey Mumbo, the show is about to start!" The band director calls out on the field. The marching band students began to scamper back to their band directors. If they are caught talking or fighting with the riving school, they will be eliminated from the rest of their battles and have to watch on the bleachers without participating. Talking to students from other schools is fine. But talking to rivaling schools is basically begging for trouble.

The taller man heads back over to the left side of the field. He shoots a glare over his shoulder and meets eye contact with Grian, who looks like he is still steaming about their little encounterment. He smirks in success and wanders back over to his school group. His feet climb up the metal ladder and he blows his whistle in a rhythm that the entire band knows.

"STAR! Attteennttion!" He calls out, posture full and his shoulder broad without any fault. 

"ATTENTION!" The band shouts, base drummers hitting their large black instruments with their drumsticks in their normal attention routine. 

"Alright, everyone. You all know what to do! Concentrate! Do not let G-Team win this year's Marching Band Fall Bash! We will win!" Mumbo scans his squinted eyes across the crowd of students. He nods his head and climbs down his mini podium. All the students begin to head to the bleachers and set their instruments down. 

Mumbo stayed in front of the bleachers, next to the band director as the announcement began.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Hold onto your hats for this yyeeaarrrss Marching Band Fall Bash!" 

The crowd of random people and marching band student families that decided to come cheered and roared. Mumbo crosses his arms over his chest, sending a smirk at Grian from across the other side of the field. Grian seems to be organizing his band since it is a little bit larger than Mumbo's. Smaller bands go first. Grian's is going to go last since he has the largest band.

Grian seemed to feel the stare of Mumbo from yards away. He turns his head around and peers over his shoulder, immediately finding Mumbo standing in front of the crowd in the space between the field and bleachers. He felt his cheeks turn hotter than the sun and looked away from him.

"Goddammit, why do I have to love him?" Grian curses under his breath. Since the crowd is wild and trumpets begin to blast, no one would have possibly been able to hear him. "I wish I can just tell you... Mumbo..."

---

Neither of the two rival schools won the trophy. 

G-Team slowly began to go under tempo during halfway through their show and STAR messed up one too many times on marching to their correct positions. Both of their schools managed to get the crowds screaming, despite it being a little bit of a train wreck. 

"Well, at least G-Team didn't get the prize," Mumbo says to Xisuma, the leader of the snare drum group in the percussion section. Xisuma sets one of the freshman's bass drums into a large carriage that contains all of STAR's instruments. 

"You shouldn't beat yourself up, Mumbo. You both messed up, which cost both of us. Maybe you should stop and consider to actually think about the band and not him." Xisuma grabs the cymbals from a freshman and sophomore to set it next to his instrument on the shelf. 

"I do think about the band!" Mumbo protests and grabs the last instruments from the students who are struggling to put theirs on the shelves. He grabs the trombone from a smaller girl and puts it in its case before setting it down in the available spot on the top shelf.

"You only think about winning against G-Team. Maybe consider our team," Xisuma takes off his cap and shoves it at Mumbo's chest. "Now I am going to have a chat with the band director. Please put my hat away. One of the freshmen got a clarinet reed stuck into a bass drum screw." 

How in God's name did that happen-

Xisuma walks past Mumbo as the drum major sits there, a little bewildered at Xisuma's immediate exit. He deliberately pulls the red plume out of the hat and puts it carefully inside of its case to prevent any damage to it. A soft sigh withdraws past his lips as he sets his friend's cap next to the case.

After getting to their school and settling the entire marching band, Mumbo waited for all the students to leave, whether if the seniors drove themselves home in the dark or if the students got their parents to pick them up. The students quickly changed out of their uniforms and unloaded their instruments in no specific organized way. 

All the students were clearing out and by the time the last freshman left the high school building, it was well over 11 o'clock in the evening. Little white dots speckles in the jet black sky stretched across the entire area. 

Mumbo nods his head at the band director when he left, knowing the band director will lock up STAR High School when he leaves his office. 

When Mumbo got home, he set down the mountain load of paperwork and sheet music on his mahogany dining table without care. He didn't feel like taking a shower, so he just laid down in bed in his sweat ridden t-shirt that he wears under his drum major suit. His hair is lined with sweat and grease from the intense competition and from the brilliant yellow veins of the sun.

His body is just craving sleep but he couldn't seem to shut down his brain. It kept rummaging through thoughts, specifically about Grian and his gremlin attitude. His thick, golden curly hair is always shoved inside of his cap and Mumbo can always see it trying to flow out on the sides. Grian has a bit of a short temper whenever someone remotely comes close to the topic of heights, and he would always snap with, "I am average height!"

Mumbo closed his eyelids and began to hug his pillow while laying on his side. He growled at himself because he wouldn't stop thinking of him. It makes his heart hammering inside his chest, which was actually common whenever he got into the field. A gasp accidentally falls past his lips when he realizes how obsessed he is over him.

"Oh my god," realization seemed to finally crash down to him and he stuffs his face into the pillow in embarrassment. "I can't possibly be crushing on that dork... can I?"