𝔯𝔬𝔠𝔨𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔢 [𝔥𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔶𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯]

𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔶𝔞𝔯𝔡 𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔣𝔱

★★★

ℑ peeked through the window at Kevin. Earbuds in, focused. I tried knocking, but of course, he didn't hear me. I thought for a moment. I didn't exactly want to just show up, but we were in a band together. Shouldn't we be practicing together, too?

I gave in and opened the door. He jumped, pulling out his earbuds. I smiled awkwardly, trying to muster something out. He looked quite surprised to see me.

"Oh. Hey, Y/n," he said. He set down his drumsticks and picked up his phone. Texting Hunter, I assume.

"Jesus, dude, having to pack up and reassemble that kit must be annoying as hell," I said, exhaling loudly. He shook his head no. I rested my eyes on the kick drum. Hunter had painted the logo on it. He did a notably good job.

"Not really. I mean, just tedious," he replied, putting his phone down and looking at me. I held up my guitar case and raised my eyebrows. He picked the drumsticks back up and shrugged. 

I pulled a chair out from the corner of the room and sat down with my case on my lap. Kevin shuffled a few papers around. It must have been for the song Hunter wrote. Machinery of something something.

We played for a few minutes until Kevin got tripped up on one part. He stopped abruptly and pitched his drumsticks down to his feet. I wasn't aware he was capable of aggressive frustration. That was so Hunter-coded.

"Woah, Kev, chill out," I said quietly. He looked at me guiltily. I picked at the strings of my bass. The sound of a cello came from down the hall. We exchanged a glance; we didn't think anyone else was there. Kevin abruptly stood up, pushing his stool back. I creased my brows, watching as he left the room. I saw him through the window. He just stood there for a minute.

He finally walked away. I couldn't see where he went. There was a practice room a mere twenty paces away. The sound was close enough to have been coming from that one.

I pulled out my phone and opened Hunter's messages. I typed something up quickly and stared at the chat room, waiting for the little bubble to show up.

Hey, I'm at school, practicing with Kevin. He just walked out on me lol

He didn't text back for quite some time. Kevin hadn't returned yet. While I was tempted to go look for him, I knew it would be pointless because he didn't seem as if he was in the mood to continue practicing anyway. My phone went off.

Hey. Do you want me to come pick you up?

I circled my thumbs over the keyboard, deciding on what I wanted to reply. I managed to type a "please" and go on with my day. Kevin wasn't coming back any time soon, that was for sure.

I gingerly packed up my guitar and picks, putting the chair back in its place. To my surprise, I passed Kevin on the way down the hall.

"Oh, done practicing?" He asked. I muttered a quiet yes and did a little wave, continuing on my way. I didn't hear him walk away. He was still standing in the hallway watching me when I left. I saw him from the exit door.