Btw guys I'm in Colorguard so I'm going based off my experiences with Band Camp and Marching Band.
Being in the marching band was something you thoroughly enjoyed.
The rush of competing, the breathlessness after playing, the thrill of hearing 'You may now take the field in competition'. All of it was a whirlwind of emotion and adrenaline. However, in order to get in the marching band you had to go through something not as glorious.
Band Camp.
Every band kid trembles at those two words, two whole weeks of hot summer sun with a water break every few hours. The sun beamed down relentlessly as sunburned kids learn drill, an entire day of perfect posture and listening to orders being yelled over the breathless 'duts'.
"Y/N! You are out of step, get it together!" Your band director yelled, nearly having an aneurism for the third time today.
Being a Flute meant alot of things, first you are looked over constantly, second you are repeatedly told you can't be heard but the moment you play louder you get in trouble for being to pitchy, it was a rough cycle. A snicker from the Trumpet section had you gritting your teeth harshly, those assholes could put a sock in it.
"Take a ten minute break, be back on the field on time or we all run laps" Director Cawthon yelled, stepping off the drum major stand as he massaged his temples. A Tuba player nearby let out an elongated sigh, dropping the humongous instrument with care as sweat dripped from their brow.
"If I have to hear the phrase 'one more time' again I'm going to choke him to death" Mangle sighed beside you, stripping her flag carefully and setting it down on her dot. Mangle was the one Colorguard member you liked, she was the only one who has yet to hit a band member, the others were moving death machines.
"The Rookies are having trouble with marching, Chica almost knocked out a percussionist, and Ballora did a cartwheel right into the Woodwinds. I'd say we call it a day" she groaned, walking towards the cooler filled with cool water. A nearby Pit member scoffed, taking a swig of water as if they actually did something other than stand on the sideline. (If you are in Pit don't take this personally please)
"If we didn't even have a Colorguard this whole thing would be alot easier" she drawled, gasping loudly when Mangle brought a manicured hand up briskly, sending the water bottle's contents all over the girl's face and shirt.
"Well if you actually did something other than standing off the field then maybe you would be allowed to have an opinion, so shut the fuck up" Mangle hissed, causing Freddy to nearly choke on his Clarinet reed as he laughed. This was basically the entire Band Camp experience, bitching, whining, insulting, and lastly, dying.
"Oh great, here comes the drum major" Freddy scoffed, casting a glare towards the approaching Blonde.
"Well, he is your brother" Mangle insisted, waving at Goldie as he took a large drink from his own bottle. The shy boy's response was a big smile and enthusiastic wave back, dark eyes assessing his fellow band members.
"What's going on with the Drumline?" Mangle asked, leaning back slightly against the huge cooler, golden eyes squinting against the sun's harsh rays. Slowly, you followed her eyes, catching sight of red hair being pushed back messily as it's owner plopped their Snare on the grass. However, beside the Section Leader, there were three Base Drums lined up precariously as a couple members began bouncing acorns atop the shiny surfaces.
Just as predicted, a loud, heavily accented voice began yelling at the heathens as a drumstick was thrown.
"Foxy is going to kick their asses" Mangle chuckled, nodding her head as one unlucky aggressor was yanked back by their shirt and viciously noogied.
One lesson you learned quick around here was never to mess with someone's instrument, or equipment in the Guard's case. Last year a new Trumpet player thought he could do a couple drop spins with a flag, he was rudely mistaken when the wind yanked the six foot pole from his grasp and smacked him square in the jaw. He woke up with a giant bruise and a group of angry Colorguard members staring at him from the Band Room mirror.
"Oh no, what is he doing now?" Freddy sighed, setting down his Clarinet as the Saxophone section leader began strutting over. His purple hair was messy and matted to his forehead as sweat glistened his skin, resembling everybody else's current state, however, his white eyes held a mischievous gleam in them as his shiny instrument was hanging loosely from the shoulder strap it currently was attached to.
"Vincent, I swear if you are here to make more terrible puns I will slaughter you" Mangle scoffed, eyes trained elsewhere as her jaw clenched from the figure now blocking her small breeze. Instead of giving an answer, Vincent simply chuckled, adjusting his white muscle shirt with one hand while the other ran through his unruly hair.
"Right now, that would be a blessing" He sneered, popping open the cooler with a thumb and taking out one of the cold bottles, popping off the cap unceremoniously as he chugged half of its contents in one swig.
Either the heat was beginning make you delusional, or Vincent actually didn't look as annoying and stupid as you previously thought. Probably the first, definitely has nothing to do with the water dripping from his jaw and too his collarbone, or the way his muscles flex at the gesture, not at all.
The sweet water you were chugging didn't seem so refreshing anymore, especially once it chose that moment to go down the wrong way.
"You alright Y/N? Or do I have to perform CPR" Vincent cooed as you began choking on your water, earning a glare and flushed cheeks in response, your eyes burning as your lungs struggled to rid of the liquid invading your airway. Everybody was looking at you now, snickers coming from....you guessed it....the fucking Trumpets.
"Bon Bon, if you don't stop laughing I'm going to grab that little instrument in your hands and wrap it around your little neck, we clear?" Mangle growled, baring her teeth at the blue haired boy angrily, successfully shutting him up.
Soon enough everybody had resumed to their normal chatter, eyes leaving your embarrassed form at last. That moment didn't last when you had a flamboyant Saxophone player at your side, his once empty hands now on his instrument. You'd think a Section Leader would be more responsible, especially since playing during break was prohibited. However, here we are, Vincent bringing the mouth piece between his lips and giving you a wink in the process.
At first, the melody was soft and quiet, then it bursted into loud playing that sounded about as seductive as any Saxophone could get. All heads snapped over quickly once the sound carried over the entire field, all raising questioning looks.
Here comes this suave little shit, unbeknownst to the swiveling heads as he played away, dancing circles around you, eyes scanning you up and down. Almost immediately you recognized the melody, it was none other than 'Killer' by The Ready Set, it's sound being a lot more smoother when played through the hook shaped instrument. Your already sunburned face becoming hotter, taking a deep breath as Vincent gave you an eyebrow wiggle.
"Vincent Bishop! Stop playing right now or I'm going to give Mike the position as Section Leader" Cawthon yelled, chucking a half filled bottle towards the hill you currently resided on, landing short by a couple feet (let's face it, Mike is a suave lil shit, he would play the Saxophone).
Vincent stopped almost immediately, flipping the Director a middle finger and smirk, the both of them sharing a snort in laughter. Suddenly, white eyes flickered back over to you, giving an equally white smile.
"I guess I'll have to sing it instead" He smirked, setting down his instrument carefully and clearing his throat dramatically.
"No!" Everyone screamed at once, making you wince, the headache you possessed from the heat throbbing now. Vincent scoffed, smirking over his shoulder at the onlooking crowd, flashing a joking smile at his fellow band members.
"Back on the field!" Cawthon screamed, earning groans from basically the entire crowd of angsty teenagers (*Snort* see what I did there?). However, before you could walk back onto the field and grab your Flute setting in its box, a hand grabbed your arm, swiveling you around harshly.
A firm kiss was planted to the side of your face, a gesture of affection that was gentle and loving. Before you could look up, the boy was already walking down the hill, Saxophone swinging by his waist like a leaf in the breeze.
Yeah, being in band was something you thoroughly enjoyed, but now you had something else to look forward to, and the summer heat was not going to ruin this.
Vincent is a suave lil shit, 10/10 husband material right there. I'll probably update on weekends or if I'm lucky on some weekdays if I have time, but here is some fluff to get you through whatever your going through.
If you have any suggestions for future one-shots please comment!