𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐒 ❦ ST (O.H)

i. HAWKINS HIERARCHY

If she looked closely enough, Addie could spot the disrupted grass in the crevices of Penelope's heel, and the scuff from the time she wore them during gym class.

Adelade found some focus in the mess of Penelope's feet. A focus that remained for the majority of Jason Carver's speech — a speech her friends were thankful she drowned out with music, especially when he mentioned their mutual friend — before an all too familiar tune rang around the gym. From the ceiling, she then roamed across the basketball team, and then ( only when she had to), the microphone that looked a lot less lonely than before.

As she finally connected with the cause of her embarassment, her friend's voices broke through the gap between her music and the sickening fog. Penelope and Tommy snickered beside her. That was just their way, which rivalled the excited buzz that radiated in positive waves from Emma's proud gaze.

Tammy Thompson, Addie's beloved sister, was paying tribute to not only one of Addie's oldest friends, but the entire school.

What was originally an electric shock of grief for her and her friends, became doused in sibling distress. It was hard to believe that just a minute ago, the four were sharing looks as Jason Carver rattled off a list of names which rang alarm bells all too familiar to Addie. Her anger towards the basketball captain that morning was belittled by a wash of worry; as if the boy's subtle reminder of the reason for Addie's fall from grace was replaced with yet another reason for her rocky return to popularity.

Heather Holloway had ruined Addie, and now she was desperately trying to return from her unmarked grave beside her bestfriend.

It's important to explain that Addie wasn't embarrassed by Tammy. In fact, in many ways she was proud of her sister. She was beautiful, smart, kind; she had all the attributes of somebody who could make it quite high on the Hawkin's ratings. Her smile never dimmed as she glanced around a room full of people, and Tammy had remained blissfully untouched by the mall fire in Hawkins that dimmed Addie so violently. She never left the house with her hair in a mess like Adelade had, and never spent weeks in the house during summer hangouts when new faces began to replace the adoration that was once reserved for Addie. Tammy was funny when you got to know her, and helped Addie with homework which came a little bit harder to her as well as her friends.

She was a Thompson after all, so she had all the potential to be something in their small little town, according to their mother. But, Tammy insisted on throwing that away each time she tried to sing.

Although she wasn't terrible, exactly.

Pitchy? Sure. She was actually a lot better than the assholes Addie called classmates, but that wasn't enough to save her. She stood far too close to the microphone as she sang (which she was doing consistently throughout the anthem today), and somehow managed to skirt around the notes like a vehicle which had just lost control. Sure, sometimes she swerved into the right notes for some time, but it wasn't long before she was off on another course again.

Honestly, Addie was sure Tammy had no control over some moments of each song. As a response to these moments, Addie also found herself uncontrollably facing the effects of her sisters singing in Hawkins High. Mainly, the smirks from anybody who knew her, and those which had yet another reason to declare Adelade Thompson a has-been.

In her attempt to avoid the stares, she turned her gaze towards the school band. There, she spotted two girls who she almost knew giggle against each other. Sure, her friends were giggling too, but there was an anger which filled Addie as she saw two girls she didn't know make fun of her sister. Her sister, who had become the last person that had a tether to Adelade's childhood, which had long been buried in old clothes and records.