A story of how a lazy teen met a boy with history and a boy who was tired
REPUBLISHED AND DISCONTINUED!!!
Warning: cringe ass writing, early 2021 anime tiktok references
I noticed that there were not many Given x Reader stories so I thought I would...
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...Haruto Hagihara! I ended up loving him a lot, so you'll see more of him in future chapters and I'll explain him more in Chapter Info 2. The drawing ended up looking ok, but I'll probably do a better one in the future. I based this drawing off jupiterattacks on Reddit. I own Haruto, but not the art and character I based him off of. Now for the story!
Underline is English words or English lyrics (depends on context)
Y/n POV:
'Ahhh... I love the smell of given up dreams and failing grades that this school always seems to produce,' I sarcastically think as I walk into the classroom, gaining no attention, even with the snare case draped across my shoulder, resting on my hip. Scratch that, my case did catch one person's attention, probably one of the only ones in the room who would notice.
As I reach my desk, I carefully take off the strap and put it under my desk so no one would accidentally break the thing I had just bought at an amazing price. Of course, I had to give my number to a random stranger, but it'll be worth it. Since I had gotten the replacement, I had been studying beat and tempo, trying to understand how to count in and find a beat that would match other sounds. I have barely touched the snare and drumsticks, not to mention the drumset as a whole. Likely, I would need a tutor, not that I had any idea who would be willing to teach me, but I could stick to books and online learning for now.
'I've got far to go, but I'm proud of what I've got done,' I think, smiling while staring off into space, making the black-haired boy next to me even more curious about me.
"When did you get that?" I hear Uenoyama whisper to me. I turn to look at him, surprised he even cares.
"I replaced my old snare with this new one on Saturday," I tell him, not bringing up who sold it to me or why I needed to replace it. I'd prefer to avoid the topic of why I started playing, but I know that is probably not possible. I could lie and say I just wanted to, but I can't lie well and even if I could, that wouldn't be very convincing.
"What was wrong with your old one?" he asks me, surprising me. A small part of me thought he was going to ask if I played or not, but he probably thought that anyone who carries an instrument to school likely plays it. Mafuyu was the exception to this rule, but he's in a whole different category when it comes to rules.
"The mount, tension rod, and snare butt were rusty and I thought I could get the parts replaced, but they would cost more than buying a new one, so I just got a new one," I tell him, one thought going on loop in my mind.
'Don't ask about the price, Don't ask about the price, Don't ask about the price, Don't ask about the price, Don't ask about the pr-'
