It's March 22nd, 2021. My alarm blares in my ear as i groggily slam my finger on the STOP button. I drag my sluggish body towards my bathroom. Carpet drags through my feet until I eventually hit the cold tile of the bathroom floor. With crusty eyes and a foggy mind, I bring the toothbrush to my teeth and begin to scrub. Today is first practice with the marching band as an incoming freshman. Questions arise in my mind: what is a mellophone? am I even going to enjoy it? is there any value in joining something like this?
These questions continue to ponder my mind as I continue getting ready for middle school, something I would say goodbye to in a few months time. After, finally, putting the last book in my bag, I make my way to my bus stop. Around me, there is my brother and some other middle schoolers of varying grades who are nameless for this story. Like any other day, I get on the bus and go about my typical middle school life. Go to class, talk more to my best friend than actually pay attention, go to lunch, go to class again, and, lastly, go home. Except, today was different. Today was my first marching band rehearsal as an incoming freshman.
As I got into the blue SUV to be driven to rehearsal, the same nagging questions swirled my mind once again: will people like me? am I even good enough to do something like this? is this band even good to be a part of?
I finally arrived at the high school, aka the feeder school of all the middle schools and private schools in the area. I was greeted by friendly high schoolers in athletic gear who looked at me like I was gold. The questions came immediately. What's your name? Where do you go to school? Are you excited? What instrument do you play? It almost seemed never ending. I was led to a somewhat small gym with a strange odor and old banners hanging from the ceiling, detailing past competitions won over 20 years ago. My impressions were already proving to be not the greatest.
In this less than pretty gym, was a mass amount of people that only made me feel worse. The noise was accentuated and over-stimulation would be a light term to describe this room. After about a minute of staring at the chaos that seemed to fill the room, a tall girl with short brown hair approached me. In her hand, she carried a mellophone, my instrument to be.
"Hey there, I'm your section leader, Chloe. It's pretty hectic in here, sorry about that..." her voice trailed off. We walked toward a group of people that I assumed to be the rest of my section. Some, I recognized as upper classmen that used to go to my middle school, some were strangers to me. But, they all smiled at me as we approached. Almost out of no where, the greetings and introductions came out of no where. Their voices overlapped each other as they competed to be heard. It became a game of "who's name will she know first?'. This lasted for a few minutes until there was a collective hush over the entire gym.
Everyone turned their heads and bodies towards the cause of the silence. The heads led to a petite woman in her 50s with straight blonde hair. She is the kind of woman that meant business constantly, yet was still able to laugh and make jokes with her students frequently. She is a powerhouse in the high school band scene and her name is known across the United States. It wasn't until I learned all of this that I knew what I was in for. Not only was I going to be worked to the bone, but I also unintentionally joined one of the best high school marching bands in the country. I immediately felt a strong intimidation for both the director and the entire marching band experience. Soon doubts, worries, and even more questions filled my head. I drowned in my thoughts and I couldn't seem to find any comfort in myself. Until we were split up by section...
The mellophones and trumpets were paired together to go over some basic marching band standards. We were located to a smaller room and asked to get into a circle. After staring at my shoes or my hands for the majority of the rehearsal, I finally looked up. It was in this moment that I locked eyes with a boy. He was around my height and had fluffy light brown hair that covered the majority of his head, yet still looked taken care of and kept. My heart stopped and it felt as if time, itself, has stopped as well. Suddenly, I couldn't hear what Chloe and the other section leaders were saying. I didn't have the urge to stare at my hands or feet anymore. In that moment, there was nowhere else I wanted to be.
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That was the moment that I fell in love with my boyfriend of almost five years...
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