January

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Lucas was seriously considering lighting a fire in the corner of Mike's basement in the next five minutes if it would distract his friends. They'd all gone over so that they could practice their performance pieces a bit before they were set to record, and within ten minutes of everyone arriving Mike was already playing that stupid fucking song from Vine and Dustin was combating him by trying to play Careless Whisper even louder. Max, El, and Will were all squished onto the couch, giggling at something Will was showing on his phone, and Lucas was about to lose his damn mind.

"Guys!" He yelled, trying to get their attention. "Are we practicing or not?!"

The entire room went silent for a moment, Dustin's sax making a weird squeak when he stopped, and Lucas stared at him before looking at Mike for confirmation that the two of them would stop horsing around.

Instead of acting like a normal human being with any consideration, Mike looked Lucas straight in the eyes and played the losing sound from The Price is Right, and then busted out laughing.

Lucas stood with his hands on his hips, one holding his trumpet, unimpressed. El had started laughing loudly and Max had joined her, although she was silent.

"Dude, you can't just do that," complained Dustin. "Not fair you get all the meme sounds."

Mike shrugged, almost whacking Dustin in the shin with the bottom of the slide. "What do you want me to do? It's not my fault you chose sax, man."

Lucas continued to scowl at them, waiting for them to get their heads in the game. They had important recordings to practice for. If the band came off good enough in them, they could be about to enter Indiana North for the first time in thirteen years.

"Why don't we start," suggested Will, nudging the girls off the couch.

"Thank you, Will," Lucas responded, sending a sharp glare at the other guys as they raised their arms in offence. In a few minutes, they had all set up their sheet music against folders and textbooks, sitting spaced out across the basement as they faced Max. Given that a drum set wasn't exactly the most portable of instruments, she would be acting as their conductor.

They got through both pieces three times before Lucas thought they should call it a day; he kept coming in just a beat too late in the second half of one and a smidge flat in the other and it was starting to annoy him that he kept getting it wrong. He needed to practice more by himself. Luckily, everyone else seemed to agree and started packing up.

"It is a good day when I don't have to hear Catherine play the wrong fucking note next to me," Will sighed.

"Why don't you just tell her, dude?" Asked Dustin, struggling to push his cleaning cloth through the top of his sax because he'd entirely forgotten to take off the mouthpiece.

Lucas rolled his eyes. They'd had this conversation a million times.

"I tried, okay! Mr. Thompson said someone was playing a wrong note and I knew it was her and I even said it's an F sharp and she still plays an F! Look at the key signature for fuck's sake!"

Will angrily started shoving pieces of his clarinet back into the case. "It's like she's stupid. Can't she hear herself? How the hell she's in senior band and still does this shit is what I want to know."

"You guys want food?" Asked Mike, effectively distracting everyone from Will's rant.

"You got barbeque chips, Wheeler?" Max replied, heading for the stairs.

"Maybe, you can check," he said, shaking his head as she bolted up without another word. "Anybody else want anything?"

No one answered. "Okayyy..." he continued, and then disappeared upstairs after Max. They already knew he'd just bring down a bunch of stuff and they could have their pick when he came back.

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