Love in the Band Room

The First Encounter

       Briceon sat alone in the room, frustrated and disappointed in his performance. He couldn't understand how his day had come to this. It was beyond bothersome, in his opinion, for a day to resolve with such an anticlimactic exposition. He thought that today, surely, would represent a crux in his skillset. Unfortunately, he had been wrong.

Prior to the emergence of his formidable pity party, Briceon had been filled with resolve and determination. You see, Briceon was a renowned high school trumpeter, and today, he was intended to perform a respectable and mellifluous solo at the annual symphonic concert. He had thought he could do it with ease, and his belief was only further cemented as he ran through lines of improvisation before taking the stage. He was confident in his abilities; he had never had a reason to feel insecure about his technique before. Frankly, his personal belief was unshaken.

    ....that was, until he heard his predecessor begin playing. Resounding sound, unlike that which he had heard before, radiated from the performance stage. His peers were quiet, no one committed to any aural designation. Everyone's focus was pointed solely on the entertainer. Briceon was shocked! He had never heard talent such as this from his fellow band mates! Sure, there was the occasional upstanding production, but those events paled in comparison to the sights and sounds of current. He raced out to the stage-entrance and sought the player of such wonderful notation. Surprisingly, he found the student, his stature occupying center-stage, to be unrecognizable. The confusion was immediate. His band director had not mentioned a guest performer, as far he could recall. He had no clue as to who this fellow might be!

       Before he knew it, the stranger's performance was over. Briceon saw his form stride off the stage, the white of his teeth shimmering in the light as he smiled. Briceon's mouth was agape. He was in a state of uninhibited surprise. He couldn't formulate coherent thoughts, much less register his name being called to signify the beginning of his studential spotlight. He scampered out onto the stage, eyes fluttering wildly, mind vacant of composure. How was he supposed to perform after that! It was impossible! He lifted his horn and began to play, but it was cringe-inducing at best. He rushed through stanza after stanza, and stood motionless after his obvious failure. The crowd was once again silent, but there was an encroaching air of horror in complement to Briceon's chaos. The heat of newfound embarrassment coated his cheeks, and he hastily dismounted the platform. Once out of the public-eye, his sorrow became a physical phenomenon. Tears shamelessly strolled down his face, upsetting him more-so. He swiped at the moisture, and began dismantling his instrument, wanting only to go home and cry. As he was removing his mouthpiece, he heard someone enter the room. He whipped his head around, only to find that his eyes were locked with the stranger's.

       "Great performance out there, mate. Really had me in tears," the stranger said. The obvious lilt to his words made Briceon realize this guy really wasn't from here. He had a British accent, after all. Perhaps he was an exchange student? How peculiar! He'd be sure to ask whenever he saw him- wait, what had the stranger said again? Immediately, the stranger's mocking tone registered. About the "hot" thing...yeah, never mind. How could he have forgotten the shame? The results of such still moistened the skin on his cheeks. The guy managed a sarcastic smirk, making Briceon cringe at the obvious critique. The stranger bent down and pulled a case out from under a chair, seemingly to ponder whether he should pack up his instrument or not. Such a nonchalant action was infuriating! Shame and embarrassment culminated into something much more powerful: rage.

       "Look, I don't know who you are, but I want you to know that you need to back off. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave me alone. I've had a rough day, and would like to be going now."

       After opening the case and setting his mellophone within it, the stranger said, "Tsk, tsk. How cute. Briceon, innit? I'm afraid you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Best hold on to your trumpet, eh, mate?" At this, the stranger leaned forward, squaring face-to-face with Briceon. Briceon whimpered. He may have displayed a strong facade moments ago, but the remains of his composure were all gone. He was intimidated; scared, even. The stranger cocked his head, scanning Briceon's features. He brought his hand in between them, and put his finger on Briceon's chin. Briceon shivered, confused, wanting to pull away from the stranger's grasp, but, for some reason, finding himself incapable. The stranger slid his fingertips over Briceon's skin, rising to the bow of his lower lip. His finger fell between the ridge of Briceon's lips, and delved within his open mouth. Briceon moaned, and then, subsequently, startled. He jolted back, shocked and disgusted. The stranger just laughed and began gathering his belongings casually. Briceon jumped up and clamored out of the room, barely remembering to grab his trumpet. Only as he entered the auditorium foyer did he realize he didn't even know the stranger's name!

He wasn't cognizant of the fact he had bumped into someone until it was far too late.

      "Briceon, are you okay? You look a little pale!" Briceon immediately recognized the voice: it was his closest friend, Elijah. Relief seeped through him at his friend's familiar tone.

       "Yeah, I'm alright. God, what happened up there today sucked! I'm so ready to leave." Little did Eli know, what 'happened up there today' wasn't even the half of it!

       "It wasn't even that bad, Briceon! I don't think anyone noticed."

       "Really?" Briceon inquired, desire for the statement to be true clouding his ever-fleeting judgement.

     "Totally! People were far too busy admiring Conner's skills! He was awesome up there, y'know? Don't even worry about it. You got a free pass this time, bud!" Eli exclaimed. Immediately, Briceon pulled a face.

      "Conner? Who's that?" he asked, his distaste a little too obvious.

      "Conner Johnson? He's the new drum major, duh! Guy with the mellophone, British accent, semi-ginger? Seriously, you just saw him."

     Horror unlike no other froze Briceon to his spot. The new drum major? How could that be? When did that happen? Worse yet, what about the happenings backstage? That was obviously Conner, meaning that Briceon had just done that with his new drum major! Briceon released a disconsolate sigh. This day could NOT get any worse!