Love, Melody, and Counterpoint

Bad teachers and rude boys.

Counterpoint: The combination of two or more independent melodies into a single harmonic texture in which each retains its linear character.

As she looked at the composition on her desk, Anna could tell that this was going to be her worst one yet.
There were plenty of times where she had considered just giving up, and even her own teacher had agreed. "If you can't do the theory, then you can't do the music." Mr Banks would knowingly smirk as he walked around the classroom like he was conducting his own set of players, an old habit that had come from his distinguished career in classical music.
Anna would always have to stifle the need to talk about the number of people who had become successful without the need for theory.
Dave Grohl, David Bowie, Freddie Mercury, the list went on really...

But still as she looked at the jumble of notes on that damn piece of paper she could feel her anxiety rise, so she took the paper and crumpled it into the nearest bin. Thank goodness summer was approaching fast. After exam season had passed in a fiery blaze of fear and sweat, all that was left of the school were empty shells of students who had nothing left to give.

But that never stopped Mr Banks from trying.

"Miss Madison!" He barked, snapping her out of her daydream. "Are you hoping you can just sing onto the page and the notes will come?"
Anna stifled her rage and embarrassment as the class tittered around her. She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of him and this stupid class. That in fact she would become famous for her voice, more famous than Mister bloody Banks that's for sure!
But instead she mumbled an apology and kept her head down until the bell rang.

Although Anna wanted to become lost in her thoughts, the urgent whispers that travelled around the corridor as she looked for her next class brought her straight back to reality. Is it possible that she had done something stupid enough to warrant rumours? She racked her brain, nothing came to mind. School was boring and mind numbing compared to the high schools you see in movies and books.

Seeing everyone in their own groups, with friends that knew each other's secrets she felt a pang of loneliness ache through her entire body. She desperately wanted to vent to someone about how horrible her day had gone so far.
It wasn't like she didn't have friends per se, but she didn't have a best friend, or a squad to rely on. All she could do was write her frustrations away in her prized notebook. When she found a way for the words to make sense, then came the music. Although Mr Banks had never noticed being the great teacher that he was, Anna actually had perfect pitch. She had looked it up a while ago and 1 in 10,000 people had it. Even Mozart was rumoured to have the ability! Knowing exactly which note was which in her mind allowed her to make the song come to life with ease. Once each song was polished in her notebook, Anna hope that they would lead to her dream plan, to sing for a living. To be someone who wrote, sang, and toured her own music whilst inspiring others and not letting fame corrupt her. But that was all a long way away.
As she made her way towards English 405 the whispers became louder and louder. What had everyone in such a fit today? She looked up to catch a glimpse, and what she saw nearly knocked the wind out of her.

They were here.

No it wasn't her parents or the mean girls of the school. It was them.

Post-Apocalypse.

The world touring, song scoring, number one demons of popular music.
They were the hottest boy band on the scene at this very moment, one her favourite bands to listen to on the radio. And they were here.
At her school!

Anna's heart rate picked up and her whole face flushed a deep red. Luckily she was nowhere near enough for any of the crowd to notice her, including the band and their security guards, so she ran to the toilets instead.
Slamming the door as she entered the bathroom with such force that the girls inside jumped, Anna made her way over to a sink and tried to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Post-Apocalypse were at her school!
She took a deep breath and pretended to fix her hair with shaking hands as she tried not to freak out.