Chapter Text
As soon as he saw the school-wide announcement, Grian knew he had to sign up. As soon as Architectural History ended, he booked it to Room 101, the Head of Music’s office.
Do you play an instrument? Are you otherwise musically inclined? You should join the MCYT University Annual Musicfest! See Mrs. Monsterin in Room 101 if you’re interested.
As a singer who, due to college, didn’t have much time for his craft anymore, he decided to take this shot. He hadn’t sung since junior year of high school.
The band room was a cacophony of various people playing their instruments. Mrs. Monsterin sat on her comfortable desk chair, sipping from a thermos as she clicked through a webpage. To be careful, Grian knocked on the doorframe, catching her attention.
”Hello luv! What brings you to me office?” Her smile was warm, even towards a stranger. Grian liked her immediately.
”I’m Grian - I major in architectural engineering so you probably haven’t seen me. I was uh, curious about the music festival?”
”Of course! Let me just have you fill out this form dearie.” She clipped a packet to a clipboard and handed it over, inviting him to sit at one of her spare chairs while he filled it out. “It’ll just be fifteen minutes max.”
Name: Grian Moon
Email: [email protected]
Instrument: Voice
How long do you plan to take?: Uh, like five minutes?
He skimmed through the rest of the questions, before finally ticking the last question - Are you performing in a group? - as undecided. Having been part of a choir, he didn’t quite feel comfortable singing acapella but he also didn’t know anyone who could go on stage with him.
“Thank you so much Mrs. Monsterin,” Grian said, offering a smile of his own as he handed back the form. She grinned, unpinning the papers and filing them away in a folder and returning to her work.
On his way out, he flashed an encouraging smile at a pianist, busy practicing a piece that looked extremely complicated. Resultantly, he crashed into someone else.
“I’m so sorry,” Grian exclaimed at the same time as the other person hissed, “Watch where you’re going!”
”Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
”Clearly.” The person - a violinist, he was holding the instrument in his left hand - said, rolling his vibrant green eyes. They made eye contact and hey, no, butterflies in Grian’s stomach, this wasn’t the time to wake up.
And then—
“Woah, wait, Grian? I didn’t know you went here!”
”Scar!?”
”Oh my void it really is you- I’m so sorry for acting like a bitch-“
”It’s really not a problem, it was my mistake.”
Scar’s eyes lit up in delight mixed with sincere apology. He’d gotten so much more handsome since eighth grade. They’d been friends in middle school, but had gone to different high schools, trying to keep in touch but life had gotten in the way. Grian hadn’t taken him for the type to simply go for community college, but maybe he was one of those students who’d later transfer credits. His eyes were still reminiscent of emeralds, or bright jungle ferns, and his tan face had freckles scattered across it. His face was much less chubby than in their preteen years, hair longer and neatly styled.
”You look so different. Still haven’t grown out of wearing oversized sweaters, though.”
Grian crossed his arms. “You haven’t grown out of dressing like you’re attending a wedding, either. Thought you’d pick up some more casual styles.”
Scar rolled his eyes, this time affectionate instead of condescending. “I was the first violin first chair for the majority of my high school years, I got used to dressing like it.”
”You never had to change.” Maybe the feeling of reuniting with his old friend gave him some sort of boldness, but it was worth a shot… “Hey listen, are you doing the music fest thing?”
“I was thinking about it but I’m not sure how invested anyone would be in solo violin.”
”Oh that’s great. I can’t sing acapella for the life of me.”
“Are you suggesting a team up?”
”Yes, exactly. You give me a backing track, I spice up your performance. Win-win.”
Scar raised an eyebrow skeptically. “I dunno… orchestra kids like me and…” he looked Grian up and down, “choir kids don’t really mix.”
”Is that some kind of insult?” Grian’s heart dropped. Now he was gonna have to talk to someone he didn’t know…
Scar seemed to sense this. “Chill, chill, I was just playing. I’d be down!”
Grian grinned enthusiastically. “Great! Can I get your number? To collaborate, of course.” He hurriedly added. Not for any other reasons of course.
Ok, maaaybe he wanted Scar’s number in a flirtatious way too, but wasn’t this the perfect disguise? And oh void, Scar had always been good at reading other people’s emotions and somehow he’d mastered telepathy so what if he could notice that second motive and gotten all weirded out and-
“Here you go.” Scar handed over a torn slip of paper with a number and email on it. Grian gave him a grateful, albeit shaky smile, before taking the scrap of paper. His fingers brushed against Scar’s palm for a fraction of a second before he pulled away, quickly walking off with a wave.
Void damn it, he was probably as red as his sweater right now.