The Battle of the Bands ✓

The Battle of the Bands | 11

The ride to McKinley felt much longer than it really was. It always seems more nerve-racking when you don't know what to expect, and that was exactly how I was feeling right now.

My palms were sweating profusely, along with every other part of my body. It felt like I'd sat in the sun wearing a tracksuit for five hours. My mind raced as I thought about performing at McKinley's football game.

I was incredibly worried that we would get our asses handed to us, or worse, that we would somehow screw up.

In an attempt to drown out my own thoughts, I put my earbuds in and played my pre-game music, trying to forget about the nauseating feeling in my stomach. I was really regretting my choice of tacos for lunch right about now.

After listening to a few songs, I saw the city limits sign, letting me know that we were nearing the school. A feeling of dread erupted deep within my stomach, and I tried to push it down so that I could concentrate on winning.

If I won the battle of the bands, then maybe, or hopefully, Maxwell would leave me the hell alone. But knowing my luck, this probably wouldn't go in my favor.

Once we'd made it through several stoplights and made a couple of turns, we arrived in front of McKinley Prep. I let out a deep breath, running a nervous hand through my hair.

It was going to be a long night.

*^*

The football stadium was packed with fans, and that didn't really do anything good for my nerves.

In all honesty, it made me wanna nose-dive off a cliff.

"Alright, we got this. We beat them last time, and we can do it again!" I chanted, pumping my fist in the air in a sad attempt at sounding enthusiastic.

A few of the band members looked disbelieving but forced some smiles anyway. They didn't seem to understand my rivalry with Maxwell. It wasn't easily described.

The two of us just held a burning hatred for one another, and that's how it'd always been.

After a few minutes of everyone getting their uniforms on, we all prepared our instruments for half time. A few minutes later, the crowd cheered as the players ran off the field; halftime had begun.

I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face. I didn't wanna appear weak in front of the rest of the band. They needed a leader, and it seemed that I was the perfect candidate.

Once all the players had left the field, the band and I marched out onto the field, prepared to make fools of ourselves. At the same time as us, McKinley's band walked out onto the field, as well.

I let out a breathy sigh, trying my best not to break down right then and there. I glanced up at the stands to see anyone I recognized, only to be met with the face of a smiling Charlie. Suddenly, I felt incredibly flustered.

Knowing Charlie was watching, I felt even more nervous than I had before, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole and I wouldn't have to deal with this shit right now.

Before any of us had the chance to start, I heard a loudspeaker going off, a pre-recording of Maxwell's smug voice playing throughout the stadium.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to your halftime show for the hour; the battle of the bands. While whichever band you feel deserves to win is playing a song, you cheer as loud as you can for them. Whichever band you feel doesn't deserve to win, then simply don't cheer for them at all. Whichever band gets the most applauds and cheers wins. Now, without further ado, let the games begin."