Athlete!AmericaXBand Geek!Reader - Following the Music Part 1


Band camp was hell for you, but at least it was all over. You finally were able to kick back for a little bit, even though you had to leave for practice every Monday and Thursday night.

It was your last year in marching band, being that it was your senior year, and you were looking forward to a fun time teaching the freshmen and everyone else in your section new things.

There was also another thing about band camp being over: school.

Being that you were one of the only band members without any school pride, you were pretty discriminated by your peers. But, just shrug that off and everything will be nothing but a blur, you keep telling yourself.

There was just no point to high school. You just wished that it could all be over and you could get on with your life as an individual in modern society. But part of you also didn't want to grow up.

It was now the day of the big home game against the arch rival school, and everyone was pepped up to beat the away team. Sure, you had to stand at attention and have your instrument parallel to the ground while trying to set a good standard for your school.

Football team: obnoxious. It was the only word to describe the motley crew. Lead by star quarterback, Alfred F. Jones, it just makes them seem even more obnoxious.

"All right dudes!" he shouted to his team. "All we gotta do is kick their asses and show them who's boss!"

You rolled your eyes as the team cheered. You remembered when Alfred was just a normal kid in junior high that always sat with you in lunch and made you laugh so hard your gut hurt for three periods. But now that he was a big jock he didn't even pay any attention to you.

None of that mattered as the drum majors called everyone over to sit in the stands. It was just a blur. Of course, you were bored out of your mind. It was nothing but standing up, playing music, sitting back down, and then standing back up again. You just couldn't wait for concert band to start so you didn't have to wear this sweaty uniform.

Everyone in the stands was cheering for the great Number Seven, Alfred F. Jones, who scored the second touchdown.

"This is so bogus," you muttered.

"What is, [name]?" asked a freshman who was sitting next to you.

"This whole thing. Why can't we just do the field show and then get the hell out of here?"

He shrugged. What would he know? He was just a freshman. He still had three more years of the same song and dance.

You found yourself staring at the large 07 jersey again. Of course, you couldn't really see Alfred's face because of the uniform he was wearing, but either way you stared. He had to be the only hot guy on the team, considering you had a crush on him since you two were in sixth grade. But he wouldn't notice you. He was a football player, and you just played a flute in the stands and watched him score.


Half-time also meant band time. Alfred always wanted to watch the band's field shows but never got the chance to. He was either in the locker room during pregame or in the locker room during half-time.

He drowned out his coach's voice, wondering why he even chose to play football. Then he remembered; it was because his father wanted him to be a huge star. And he really did put into blood, sweat and tears his entire life for this moment, dealing with his dad, coaches and then entire school.

And the band was now long over again, and he had to get up and make the school proud. But, he was luckily given some time before he had to start the play. Briefly he took off his helmet, Nantucket sticking up into the air with pride.

He was looking at you, although you didn't notice. At first he was pissed because you weren't cheering, but then that kind of faded after a while. He recognized you, even with the uniform and helmet on. Although you two hadn't really talked to each other since freshman year, he wanted to be close friends with you again. Of course, he was too busy with football for that.

"Jones!" the coach bellowed. "Stop sitting their like a pansy and get moving!"

Alfred rolled his eyes as he put his helmet back on.

Another glorious victory for the (a/n: I tried to hard to think of a mascot and a school!!!) Dover Eagles against the Western Wankers (a/n: their mascot's actually a Pirate. See what I did there????? Ehhh...? *shotshotshot*) caused the entire stadium to be in such a raucous. But you didn't care too much about the teams. The good news was that after this you could go home and relax.

The same old marching was done again all the way to the outside of the band room, where you got changed as you always did. Again, you were thinking a tiny bit about Alfred.

I don't have a chance with him! you kept yelling to yourself. He's a jock, and I'm an alternative band geek!

That was when Alfred obnoxiously came in after everyone was ready to leave.

"Dudes, were we amazing, or what?!" he laughed.

The band cheered, but you remained silent, rolling your eyes.

"We mostly have you to thank. Your spirit and coolness keeps us going!"

"Oh brother," you muttered. "He's probably trying to hit on the poor innocent sophomores."

"Why the long face?" the loud average-every day American asked you. "You were sulking the whole game!"

"I will use this," you hissed, holding the flute case like a gun.

"Whoa, no need to get violent!" Alfred insisted.

You didn't let your guard down. "What makes you think that I'm going to listen to your crap about spirit? Four years ago, you didn't even know what our mascot was."

"But, [name], that was four years ago," he scoffed. "I'm a totally awesome popular dude now!"

"Yeah, and I'm still the same old outsider. Now, can we move on?"

"No, [name]. I want to ask you something," Alfred started. "When can I see you march?"

You hesitated. "...Why are you asking?"

"Because I never get to see you, you know, with me going in the locker rooms while you play and all."

You rolled your eyes. He was trying to be a showoff and acting like he cared about the band. "We compete every other Saturday. Tomorrow night we're going over to Polks Liberty."

"Great!" he laughed. "I shall be there, then!"

"What is that big shot up to?" you exhaled as you went to find your car.


TO BE CONTINUED.........maybe.