Author's Note: I decided to take my story Wasted Time and expand it into a multi-chapter version. I wrote it out to see how it would flow in the one shot and now that I like the idea of the story I will add in all of the extra details. It will go into more depth then the short story I wrote with some twists and a different ending. I really didn't like the way I wrote this version the first time so I decided to try the story in a first person tone. The old version didn't seem to get as much response so let's try it this way. I think that the character of Sofia Lane is much stronger than it used to be now that we actually get a look into her head. Well you're welcome to come along for the ride... BTW any insults made towards the band in this are just for the story. Please don't take any of it personally. Besides if the insults were true then I would be insulting myself now wouldn't I?
Also for those of you that have been reading this story from before I made the change in POV's please drop a review telling me which way you like the story better.
DISCLAIMER: Here is my disclaimer for the rest of the story... I do not own any of the bands, movies, appliances, etc. that are used in here unless otherwise specified. All of the characters in this story are fictional, made by myself, and if they have the same name as you or someone you know it is entirely coincidence and making no reference to you or that person.
From the point of view of an "orch dork" in freshmen year, the band was made up of a bunch of losers. None of them had brains and they weren't worth our attention. Their instruments were nothing in comparison to the delicate wooden instruments we played. They were everything that was considered to be coarse or unrefined… at least that was what we were told to believe.
Rude comments were often heard being thrown at us and we would often times be heard throwing cruel, hurtful words back at them. That was how our orchestra and band got along… one stupid comment after another being tossed back and forth between the two groups.
They were just another bunch of airheads and we were just another bunch of snobs. The music we could have shared was wasted.
I loved my music but, it always seems that something had gone to waste and that something was missing.
This is where my story begins.
I stood outside the music room with my cello, waiting for a call from my ride. Our school's band and orchestra director, Mr Larsson, had called a last minute chamber orchestra practice causing me to miss my only convenient ride home. It went by smoothly, I guess, and as usual he let us out right before the band came for marching band practice. Everyone always guessed he did this just so he could attempt to get some kind of interaction between our two classes. It never worked.
I watched as the rest of my classmates and friends hurried off to their cars. None of them really felt like hanging around to socialise with the rest of the band.
"Hey Fia!" I turned around to see my best friend, Alice waving, at me, "Do you need a ride home?"
"Nah, Eric's going to pick me up. Besides you live on the other side of town" I told her, Eric was my older cousin.
"It doesn't really matter to me but, okay. See ya tomorrow." Alice started heading towards the upper classmen's parking lot. She unlike myself had somehow found the courage to get her driver's license. Then again she's a junior and I'm only a sophomore.
"Sure."
Waiting outside the music room wasn't too bad. I just really did not want to have a run in with one of the bandies. Ever since... well nobody knew exactly when but, for the longest time we had been fighting.
The front pocket of my pants began to vibrate causing me to jump. My friends always tease me because I jump at the stupidest things. Even when we watched the Ring I expected it to be so-oo scary and then I never jumped at the actual 'scary' parts. Instead I jumped at the parts where nothing happened.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell and flipped it open. Eric had texted me from his work.
>>I'm almost here
I had talked to Eric earlier when Larsson held us after for practice, so he would know I would need a ride. We had both agreed to meet in the teachers parking lot... which was inconveniently behind the football field
Grabbing up all my stuff I made my way down, taking the opposite direction that Alice took. And right on time too, it sounded like a whole group of bandies were right about to come around the corner. I had never really bothered taking this way before... but, then again I had never asked for a ride from Eric either. I think the only time I had ever actually been to the football field at all was the first home game of the year when I was a freshmen. Nobody really bothered with that game and we lost anyway so it wasn't that big of a deal.
Passing all of the empty classrooms at night was beyond eerie. I hopped over the fence behind my trig teachers classroom and tumbled down the hill that lead to the field having to go back to retrieve my cello. That wasn't exactly the easiest feat trying to get the thirty pound case over the fence. As carefully as I could I darted behind the bleachers before anyone could see me. This was the bando's claimed territory and I wanted to avoid any trouble.
I ran through the shadows letting the stadium lights that made it through the cracks hit me. I was about five feet from the end of the bleachers, where I could make a break for my cousin's truck, when the last possible thing that could happen, happened. A very powerful noise... no not noise... sound reached my ears making me stop. I stood awkwardly in the darkness of the bleachers trying to catch my breath. I set my cello down carefully in the mud and walked over to a peephole in the stands, by where the bands water coolers were stacked. It was a perfect view of their practice.
It was surprising what they were doing. A hundred people stood on the field in perfect attention, all wearing their uniforms with the school's colors of red and gold, waiting for some sort of command. I watched as one of them mounted a high podium and saluted the nonexistent audience and then turned to his band. He signaled instruments up and they all snapped up as one, waiting for his command. With the fall of his arms the production began, every person weaving their way to where they were supposed to be. From what I saw, there seemed to be so much emotion behind it. Every single person looked like they were wrapped up in what they were doing, as if they individually were the most important thing on the field. They played their parts, which began to fade, letting a single soloist rise above the rest of them. The music was haunting. It said so much more than I had ever been able to express on my cello. That said a lot too, seeing as I have been first chair for the last seven years and have been first chair in the local youth symphonies since I was old enough to audition. It captured my mind completely and when the boys solo started to join the rest of the band I noticed no flaw in his being able to blend in with everyone again. It was perfect. Never in all of my life had I heard something so uniquely different that actually seemed to speak to me.
I was stunned out of my enchantment, however, when the Drum Major abruptly stopped the performance.
"That was good people but, let's make it better." The Drum Major's voice carried across the whole field, even reaching... what were they called? The horn thingies? Whatever. "Take no more than a five minute water break and then get back to your positions. Where going to use the Dr. Beat" There were a few groans from some of them but, they all got over it.
I watched them break their formations. Laughing and talking started as they met up with their friends and discussed their last attempt. Some of them were still pressing down on the different valves going over their parts. It was a perfect picture and something about it made me happy. I froze, however, when I realised what their Drum Major had just said.
"Take no more than a five minute water break!!!"
I looked down at what I was leaning against.
Oh shit!
I ran to my cello and grabbed it rushing up the small slope leading to the parking lot, leaving the water coolers far behind. I was just on time too. Right as I got out of their sight they all broke around the corner.
I only slowed down once I saw that they couldn't see me anymore no matter how hard they looked. I scanned the parking lot looking for Eric's green pick-up truck. He saw me and waved through the window, honking the horn a little. I ran the rest of the way and jumped into the cab, throwing my cello and book bag in the back seat. I sat there silently thinking traitor over and over again. Eric watched this mental battle, that evidently showed on my face, with amusement. His trademark smile, which he claimed got him the girls, grew on his face.
"You okay?" He asked. That definetely grabbed my attention.
"Fine." I said, putting on my best fake smile, which he totally didn't buy. The cool thing about my cousin though is that he never pries.
"You don't sound so sure." Okay so maybe he does sometimes. But not often.
"It was fine just the usual... practice, practice, practice." I paused for a moment. "So how was work?"
I looked over at my cousin. He didn't exactly look to good but, then again these days he never looked well. He had lived with us for the last six years after his parents died. As soon as he was old enough he got a job to help add to the little income my mom got from the grocer's she worked at. His dark brown hair was ruffled up and he had bags under his usually very bright green eyes.
"Work was hard today, especially with the heat waves. We got like a billion calls for all the electrical shorts people are having in their houses. You have to hate weather sometimes." He told her. Eric was an electrician.
"Aww… that sucks." I sympathized. When it came to things electrical I was illiterate but, I tried my best to understand for his sake.
My reply set a very awkward silence through the car. It just gave me more time to think.
That night after mom cooked dinner I lay in my bed thinking about the days events. It may have only been a brief moment but, the tune the one boy played on that horn stuck in my mind. It was like having Twinkle Twinkle Little Star stuck in my head but, way less annoying. I wanted to hear more of it, I wanted to be able to see everything clearly again. I already knew that I couldn't though. Death by orchestra bow is not really the highest priority on my list. I didn't really need to imagine the reaction everyone would have if they found out I had fallen for something as forbidden as the Marching Band.
I can't let this bother me forever. The right thing to do is to pretend like I never heard it and go back to orchestra tomorrow like nothing ever happened.
That night my dreams were filled with bone chilling recollections of the solo that had captured me and the things my classmates would certainly do to me.
"Okay classe... settle down" Mr L cried above the noise. It was the very end of class and everyone was wound up over the anticipation of the bell. "Now I know you don't want to have anything to do with the rest of the band but, I'm letting you know early this year that our holiday concert..."
The rest of his sentence wasn't even finished before the orchestra had begun to protest what they new he was going to say.
"Come on Larsson, you remember last year." Mike, one of the seniors all of the girls in the class crushed on, said. Of course everything went silent for him.
"Yeah!" Came in a chorus of agreements. They were remembering the fight that had broken out right before the concert started. It left a few of our own with bloody noses and torn uniforms. Two girls were sent to the hospital for concussions; one being jammed in the face with the scroll of a bass and the other having a trombone slide knocked against the back of her head. It was not a very happy night and trust me... we all paid for it dearly the next day.
"Now look here, I know you're not terribly excited about combining the two groups and neither is the band but, really this is music." Larsson said. I'm sure all of the memories were flooding back to him with a great force.
"Pfft." The class idiot, Christine, let out over the dull murmur that had come across the room. She may have been an idiot but, you had to admit that when it came to her playing she was the best violinist we had. "As if you could really call that crap music."
"Now come on Chris." He retaliated, looking at the rest of the class, "That is entirely unfair." He then whispered under his breath, so it was barely audible to the rest of us, "and exactly what the band said too."
I had, had enough, "I don't think it's that bad of an idea." My voice may not have been very loud but it jolted a lot of my friends out of their argument with Mr Larsson. They all turned to me, giving me a look that challenged me to say it again. Now what was it I said about them skewering me with their bows?
"See." Mr Larsson said, pointing at me, glad for some enthusiasm. "She agrees."
"As if Fia actually means that." Alice said, holding her violin a bit more tightly then she should have. Yeah, I really did mean it but, to tell you the truth I don't exactly have a death wish. "Right Fia?"
I was silent. Mr Larsson, seeing that he was loosing my support quickly, spoke up. "Well it doesn't really matter what the rest of you think anyway. It's already decided we're doing the concert." He picked up a gigantic folder from his desk and started flipping through it. He passed me the cello parts and then passed the rest out for the holiday concert. "And if I hear about one fight coming from anyone of you or the band whoever is responsible is thrown out of the music programme for the year. I don't care what nut brained excuses you have."
There were a bunch of moans from my classmates which were drowned out by the bell.
"Class dismissed." Mr Larsson cried. It didn't really matter though; we were already out of our seats before we could be excused.
I put cello away and followed Alice into the locker room where she stored her instrument.
"Hey." I said leaning against the lockers casually, hidden from view of Alice by the locker door. She slammed it shut, making a loud noise from the metal hitting metal.
"Did you actually mean what you said in there?" Alice asked, with her hands on her hips.
"Well..." I meant to tell her the truth but, seeing Alice's look of horror when I started, made me decide to do the smart thing and not tell her, "Of course not. What, do you honestly think I would stand up for that bunch of losers?" I gave Alice a fake reassuring smile. It was apparently good enough for Alice however because she smiled back.
"Good I thought I had lost you there to the deep dark abyss known as the bando's brains." She laughed at her own joke. I chuckled a bit uncomfortably, remembering one of our excuses why we hated the bandies.
A voice I didn't recognise but, a face I did entered our conversation, "Something funny about the size of our brains, Melling?" Cheryl, a clarinetist in the marching band asked gruffly, addressing Alice. She had bright blonde hair that was inching toward white and the clearest blue eyes I had ever seen. Her skin was near transparent. She may have looked ill or weak but, she had the muscles to prove she wasn't... trust me, I've tested them.
"Nothing really... just the fact that there seems to be no size their at all." Alice said, stupidly. I kicked her shin.
"Alice." I said, using the same tone of voice my mom had used when I misbehaved in public when I was younger, "Don't."
"Your friend here is right." Cheryl said, sizing me up, "Don't joke about what you don't have." She pushed Alice a bit against the wall, Alice glaring at her back, and with that she was out of the room slamming the door behind her.
"Can you believe that, Fia?" Alice asked me incredulously, "The nerve of some people."
"Actually she kind of had a point." I said, leaving the room behind before Alice could understand what I had said and before I could understand what I had said.
I grabbed my cello and dragged it to the one place that seemed to be calling to me... the field.
Actually she kind of has a point?! I screeched at myself. What the hell was I thinking?! She's never going to forgive me.
I made my way under the bleachers finding a place where nobody would be able to see me and where I could get comfortable and still be able to scream mentally to myself.
Is it weird to talk to myself like this? Hmmm... maybe I have some kind of mental disorder.
I kept on thinking to myself as I watched the band warm-up. I was barely paying attention to anything around myself when I felt a very strong grip on my shoulder. Startled, as I always am, I jumped and turned around fast to look at who had dared to think they could touch me.
"You do know that practices are closed, right?"
AN: Thanks for reading. Again I promise you that this is not a story criticising the band at all. Everything in here is just for the purpose of the story. So please don't come after me brandishing your spit valves. Just thought I would tell you that, meaning no, band instruments are not stupid and no, band people are not brainless. Well tell me what you think about the change. Do you like it better or no. I'm happy with it this way so this is how it is going to stay. I'll try to upload the other redone chapters soon too. Now see the little button in the bottom left corner? Press it and leave a review. Thanks for reading : ) I hope you enjoyed.