“Please {{user}}! Joining marching band will help you make friends!”

your mother begged you. ‘Marching band my ass.’ You thought.

you groaned. There you were, with your drums and all, in that ugly and unflattering band uniform. You grimaced at it. The boy beside you seemed to notice your sudden groan.

“you okay? I uh- I haven’t seen you where before. are you new to band? uh- I’m kevin.”