And now.....

Storytime!
------------------------------------------------------
Once apon a last chapter, there were seven kids sent to detention, which happens to be where the principal stores all of her musical instruments away and out of sight.

Crofter high school runs on an all core classes school. There's no need for wasted efforts like music or drama or stuff that's not important. All her money and finds go to English, history, and especially math and science.
All of the other programs gather down in the Pit. The basement of the strict, uncreative, boring school.
All the techies, artist, newsies, the drama geeks (like Roman), and other creatine outlets are down here, repressed.
They had a silent agreement with the principal that no one spoke of, but no one dared to break.
None of this creative stuff ever came up to the school, and she wouldn't shut it down and ban it forever.
So here we are, in the band closet, also known as the detention room, run by the underpaid band teacher.

Two teens, a bully and his lackey, sat in the corner opposite from the other four. The bully had a black eye and a bit of blood on his knuckles. The lackey had a split lip. They glared daggers at everyone else in the room.

One teen was reading a book, a pissed off look on his face under his glasses. He sighed, upset that he was dragged into this mess despite not being a part of the petty squabble.

One teen was holding the tissue box, as he brought the bullied teen some tissues for his nose. His eyes shined with concern and worry, but he didn't say a word, unsure of how to help in this situation or how to help the emo boy.

One teen was doing his hair, as it had gotten a bit messed up on the way down the stairs, and he had to look his best to explain why he was going to be late for auditions. Again.

One teen had his headphones on, as he was listening to a catchy song, humming gently under his breath.
"Please don't stop the music." He mumbled, as he nodded his head slightly to the music.

One teen with a black hoodie and eyeshadow on had a bloody nose from being punched in the face. He was currently trying to get the bleeding to stop as he mumbled curses under his breath. His fingers rapping on the desk in annoyance, until he realized he was tapping along to the song that the teen with the headphones was singing.

The teen that was fixing his hair stopped, hearing this melodic song, grinning to himself as he got up, doing the spontaneous thing as he headed over to the guitar and strumming a chord to match that of the song.

The teen with the glasses looked up at the teen playing the guitar, his eyes analyzing the situation, before realizing that the teen with the guitar was doing the wrong chords. He sighed, getting up, before walking over to the piano and showing him the chords, slowly getting into the song as well, as he played with the correct tempo.

The man with the black hoodie smirked slightly, getting up and quietly going over to the drums, twirling the drumsticks and he started playing the rhythm he was playing on the desk not moments ago, following the tempo of the piano player.

The man with the headphones opened his eyes and stopped singing only for a moment, before taking off his headphones quickly and standing up as well, singing the words out loud and proud for the group to hear, as he got up on his desk at a part, before hoping down and running over to the mic and singing into that.

The man who was holding his hands together grinned happily, as they listened and bounced along, their smile never going away as they detention teens preformed. He got up, looking for something he could do, but there honestly wasn't, so he stood and watched, tapping his foot to the beat.

The bullies snorted before they lost interest, looking up at the door, as the gasped.

The detention teacher was there, and they were listening intensely.

Eventually, the instrumentalists noticed and stopped playing abruptly, as the guitarist gulped.

The singer slowed his song to a stop, confused on why no one was playing, before he realized that the teacher was watching, quickly removing himself from the microphone.

"You two boys in the back, leave. You'll have detention tomorrow." They announced, as they glared at the two bullies as the two slunk away, giving them glares right back.

"You boys stay. Let's have a talk about....what the heck just happened." They said, as they looked at them, barely containing their excitement, but they did so none the less.

"Sir, I can explain!" The listening teen hastely started, before he was cut off.

"Nonsense. No need. You guys are good. You need better lyrics, but you guys are great." The teacher said, grinning.

"Maybe my music program has a chance after all." The music teacher said, as they reached into their bag, grabbing their orange beanie and putting it over their head. "I'm Mr J. I'm the music teacher here, but, as you know, no one here appreciates the arts." They said, as they sat on the small desk in the room.

"Tell me about it!" The guitarist exclaimed, adjusting his shirt from the wrinkles the strap gave it.

"It truly is. Now, I'll let you guys come back here if you wish, and since I'm impressed, I'll take the detention off of your transcripts." Mr. J said.

The pianist sighed in relief, as he straightened his tie slightly. "Much appreciated, Mr. J." He said, as he walked over to grab his book, quick to want to leave.

The guy in the black hoodie sighed, as he started to gather up his stuff as well, secretly disappointed it was ending.

"Wait!" The listener shouted, his voice echoing in the room. "Guys, do you see what just happened? That was amazing! Why don't we all form a band?!" He asked, bubbly and excited, his eyes lighting up under his more rounded, but similar glasses to the pianist.

"Oh my gosh yes! That would be so cool!" The singer said, as he grabbed ahold of his mic once more, grinning.

"What?" The pianist asked, deadpan, as he looked a bit shocked, but didn't express it on his face. "My apologies, I am a competitor of the scholar team. I cannot just abandon that and be a participant in a newly conceptualized music group. I appreciate the invitation, but I'll have to respectfully decline." The pianist said, as he adjusted his glasses, walking out the door.

"But it looks good on your collage resume!" The listening one said, as he smiled brightly, hoping to get the one with the glasses to stop.

The pianist froze, as he slowly turned to face the smiling listener.

"It does?" The pianist asked, hesitantly.

"We'll, I suppose, if it looks applicable on college applications, I may consider joining." He said, as he cleared his throat, taking a seat.

"I have my doubts as well, my friend. I am in the drama club here, and it would be difficult to run a play and do a music group all at the same time, even though I do wish to be apart of this group." The guitarist said, dramatically.

"If you do join, I'll have the next play be a musical." Mr. J said, tempting the drama student.

It was the drama students turn to freeze, as they looked at Mr. J. "Can you do that?" He asked, as his disbelief shone in his words, but his eyes begged for it to be true.

"Yes, I know the drama teacher, and I can convince her to let the next play be a musical of your choice." Mr. J said, as the drama student grinned widely.

"Well, I suppose I will then, seeing as you need me." He exclaimed, as his smile grew slightly.

"What about you?" The bubbly teen asked, as the black hoodie teen froze as well.

"What?" He asked, his voice sounding confused.

"Do you wanna join?" The happy teen asked, bouncing slightly.

"Your asking me?" The dark, emo teen replied, his eyes clearly showed he was expecting to be ignored.

"Of course we are! Your amazing at drums!" The teen said, as he bounced over to him. "Will you at least consider it? It won't be the same without you!" He asked, his eyes widening as he pulled out his happiest smile, making the emo's heart melt a little on the inside.

After a good long wait, the black hooded teen sighed, giving in to the big eyes.

"I'll consider it." He said quietly, as he looked back at the bouncy teens big eyes and wide smile.

"Horray!" The happy teen said, grinning.

"Well, we have a band." Mr. J said, grinning. His long time dream came true. He had a band. Finally.

"Ok, let's introduce ourselves! I'm Thomas Sanders, singer." Thomas said, as he still held onto the mic.

"Greetings! I am Roman, I will be a singer, playing the guitar, and having the best hair on the stage." Roman said, as he did a slight hair flip before going over to his guitar, finding a plastic prince crown, and putting it on his head.

"This suits me." He announced, as he looked at all of the other stuff in there.

"As a royal pain in the butt it does." The emo commented under his breath, earning a quiet chuckle from Mr. J.

"Salutations, I am Logan. I, apparently, will be playing the piano." Logan said, as he put down his bag, pulling out his phone.

"I currently have 1 free hour to study or do what I wish, so let us make this hour count." Logan stated, as he started making a schedule to add in band practice.

"Anx. Drums." Anx the emo said, as he went over and picked back up hos drumsticks, twirling them in his hand gently.

"I'm Patton! I don't play an instrument...but that's ok! I'll be your number one fan!" Patton said, as he picked up a foam finger with a 1 on it.

"You don't play?" Logan asked, a bit confused.

"Nope! I never learned how to." He said, as he looked at them.

"Then we'll teach you. You can play the....umm..." Roman started, as he looked for something Patton could do.

"It's ok. I'm more than happy to be your number one fan!" Patton said, cheerfully.

"We'll find something you can do Patton." Mr. J said gently.

Patton smiled, nodding, before he looked down at his watch. "Oh no, I have to go. I promised the basketball team I'd help look for their missing basketballs after school." He said, as he grabbed his stuff before running out of the room.

"Bye guys!" He called behind him, before racing away up the stairs.

"What a strange guy." Roman said, as he took off the crown he was wearing.

Anx nodded in agreement, as he pocketed the drumsticks, walking over to his desk to put them in his backpack. "Are we dismissed?" He asked in a low voice.

"I believe so." Mr. J said. "No use working when your number one fan isn't here, now is there?" They said, chuckling again.

Logan gathered up his stuff efficiently. "I must go study for a phycology test coming up. When shall we meet again?" Logan asked, about to put it in his schedule.

"Tomorrow?" Mr. J asked, as he started to gather his stuff as well.

"Tomorrow after school it is." Logan replied, as he put it in.

Anx looked a bit nervous for some reason, but nodded anyway.

"Alright, after school tomorrow it is!" Roman announced, as he waltzed out the door, with Logan following him.

Anx did a tiny solute before he left as well, and as soon as he turned away, his smile broke out on his face.

It was only Thomas and Mr. J left in the room.

"Mr. J?" Thomas asked, as he looked at the beanie wearing teacher.

"Yes, Thomas?" They asked.

"Why did you pretend I wasn't your student. I've been in your music class since I started high school." He said, as he looked at the teacher.

"I...I didn't want them to think you were a teacher's pet or something, you know. I was just looking out for you, like I always do. Anyway, you have to start thinking about what the band name should be." Mr. Joan said, as they set their bag back down.

Thomas nodded, as a thought hit him. "Thanks Mr. J. I'll see you tomorrow!" He said, as he ran out the room, excited to tell his parents over the phone about what happened.

"Bye Thomas." They said, as they watched him go down the hall, as they sighed.

They grabbed the little sign on their desk that read Mr. Joan. They always hated that sign, since they were non-binary. But they might lose their job if they ever announced it or corrected the principal, so Mr. Joan it was.

"Things should get interesting now, shouldn't they?" They mumbled to himself, before they yawned, grabbing their blanket and laying on the two beanbags in the room.
Their room.

They fell asleep soon after.