Dallon Weekes Imagines

That Guy From Music Class

(Y/L/N= your last name)

I walked to Music Class, and found my seat. Our teacher, Mr. Wentz, walked in and greeted us. Today, we were tasked to play a song with the instrument of our choice. Many students finished their performances, a few were applauded, and quite plenty failed to impress the class. Mr. Wentz got another name from the box he was holding. I crossed my fingers, hoping that I wouldn't be picked.

"Dallon Weekes?"

Thank, God it wasn't me. A tall, dark-brown haired boy with piercing blue eyes stood up.

"What song are you going to present, Mr. Weekes?" the teacher asked.

"She Had The World by Panic! At The Disco." Many were confused. What the hell is that song even? They probably thought. It didn't take too long before something clicked in my head.

"Hey, that's my song!" I bravely said.

"Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N?" Mr. Wentz gave a puzzled expression.

"I'm sorry for being rude earlier, Mr. Wentz. But that was the song I was going to perform," I said firmly.

"Well, Ms. Y/L/N. Why don't you join Mr. Weekes here?" he suggested. I sighed quietly and stood up. I'm just doing this for the sake of my grades.

Dallon held a guitar in his hands. Meanwhile, I chose to play the piano, because everything sounds better on piano, right? Dallon started strumming on his guitar. I pressed on the keys, as well.

"She held the world upon a string, but she did never hold me," I sang. Dallon continued the next line. We gave each other parts by exchanging looks.

"I, I know, I, because when I look in her eyes, I just see the sky. When I look in her eyes, well I just see the skies," he chimed in, looking deeply into my eyes.

"I don't love you, I'm just passing the time. You could love me if I knew how to lie. But who could love me, I am out of my mind?", I looked at him back. We continued, the song ended soon enough, and when it did, the audience applauded loudly. I bowed my head slightly, and smiled as I rose from the piano seat.

"Very well done, Mr. Weekes and Ms. Y/L/N. You two work great together, even under pressure. And Mr. Weekes," Dallon stopped walking. "You remind me of my younger self, although I play the bass more often."

"So do I, Mr. Wentz," he answered, and continued walking back to his seat. I finally got to mine, as well. I felt relieved in my chair. Not much time after, the bell rang. I got up from my seat once again. I walked outside, waiting for Dallon.

"What was that all about?" I asked.

"Nothing really, you just looked pretty, and what can I say? I couldn't get enough of it," he smirked.

"Excuse me?"

"See you later, Ms. Y/L/N," he winked and walked away. I stood there, dumbfounded. Sure, see you later, Mr. Weekes.

A/N: I used "Ms." and "Mr." too much didn't I?