Ned. Was. Terrified. His entire freshman year, he'd been looking up to the Warblers. He'd always been one of the boys watching, always bobbing his head, just wishing he could be like them. They were so confident, and those smiles just made it seem like they didn't know how to be sad. And towards the end of last year, he'd found himself staring at them when they weren't even performing. Not ogling them or anything, just wanting so badly to be involved. His brothers were all a lot older than him, and he distinctly remembered this feeling from when he was a kid: seeing them playing, wrestling each other, and never being able to join in. He'd always been too young. He was used to being shielded because he was the baby, and he'd let it happen at school too.
He wasn't exactly the toughest-looking boy. He was short, skinny, covered in freckles, and as hard as he tried he couldn't shake that innocent grin. And the big blue eyes and floppy brown hair just laid his innocence out there for the world to see. He'd accepted that he wasn't going to turn into a hunk any time soon. But over the summer he'd made a conscious decision. He wasn't going to stay in the background any more. And as far as he could tell, the best way of making it and Dalton was to become a Warbler.
He took one deep breath after another, gripping onto the sink and staring at himself in the mirror. He blew his fringe out of his eyes. He was already regretting his decision not to use any gel; he hadn't wanted to look like he was trying too hard, but it kept getting in the way. He pushed it back, taking another shaky breath, still locking eyes with himself. He knew his eyes looked cold, like he was going to burst into tears any minute. He knew it because it was true. He kept having the same daydream: standing in front of them, the group of boys he'd built up in his heads to be heroes, and opening his mouth just for silence to fall out and splatter all over the floor, and splash up into his eyes and all over the Warblers, and they'd all get mad that he's got their blazers wet. He had no idea why his silence was wet in this dream. Maybe he'd been staring into his own eyes for too long. Maybe the sound of running taps was playing with his head. Oh God, did he need to pee again? No. No. He'd practised. He hummed a bit just to make sure his vocal chords still worked. Check.
He straightened his tie and hauled himself away from the sink and out of the door, just as another boy, looking extremely sure of himself, strutted out of the senior commons, hands casually slung into his pockets, head held high. Ned stood, frozen, wondering how anyone could be so relaxed. He was so tall, and his hair stood straight up ('Dammit, Ned, he's got his hair up, what were you thinking?'), and he just had a smug smirk plastered across his face. Just looking at the guy made him angry and stressed and even more worried than before, because why couldn't he feel that confident, and how dare this asshole walk around like he owned the place, and how dare he be so convincing at it? Ned believed he owned the place. A blonde head popped out of the doorway leading into the senior commons.
"Is there a Ned out here?" Ned took a few seconds to respond. His mood had gone from terrified to frustrated because of that damn boy, and then in a skipped heartbeat he was trembling with fear again.
" Um, yep. Me. H-hi." He tried hard not to stutter, but couldn't help it. The boy gave him a knowing smile and a little nod. Ned felt better almost instantly.
"Jeff. Hey. We're ready for you. Step this way." He held the door open, and as he walked through, Ned felt his skin burning, his heart pounding, his hands getting clammy, but smiled back at Jeff. He could at least pretend this was easy. Maybe he could fool them into thinking he had a clue what he was doing.