A/N-This is a one shot sort-of prequel to "Did You Miss Me?" The link is available through my author's page. This was just a little idea that popped into my head and wouldn't get out until I wrote it down.

This is set in Sydney's freshman year, in Rachel's POV. Rachel's character has been bugging me for some more dept and development and this is the result! Enjoy!

Lyrics aren't mine, characters are. Just a reference, Oz is the current clarinet section leader in DYMM, she's mentioned in Chapter Two.

The Honorary Trumpet

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for…
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for…

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well yes I'm still running

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For-U2

I sighed as I pulled a reed out of my case. Sucking on it, I looked around, taking in my surroundings. The room was packed with people. Most of them were wearing hoodies, gloves and the black Sycamore Falls Music scull caps. It was November, which meant Championships were coming up. They were today, actually, and I was so excited. This would be the first Championship for me, as I was only a freshman.

My best friend Sydney was also a freshman, but her section treated her as if she was made of gold. Well, the trumpet section treated everyone in their section like that. I wished that the clarinets would be more like that. My section leader, George, didn't seem to care about the freshman at all, leaving the sophomores to teach us the ropes. There were a lot of freshmen, and Oz seemed to be the only one in the section concerned about getting us up to speed. So instead of asking the already swamped Oz, I went to the trumpets. Once I was introduced to everyone through Sydney, they treated me like I was a trumpet.

For what seemed like the first time, I was respected by upperclassmen.

And it felt so good.

My secret affair with the trumpet section began not long into band camp. As per tradition, the band went away for two weeks for band camp. George, a senior and big man on campus, walked around as if he owned the place. He acted as if band camp was a waste of his time, and he let us know that. George was pure evil on the field, yelling at the freshmen if they got out of step, played a wrong note, or if he just didn't like them. On several occasions the drum major, Matt, had to talk to George privately, but whatever they talked about just made him madder. And then he'd take it out on us.

I was complaining about George to Sydney one day while I watched her get ready for sectional practice from my bunk. I felt sort of bad always complaining about how terrible my section was, but Syd didn't seem to mind. Everyone in the band felt bad for the clarinets, secretly mumbling under their breath about where George can stick his mouthpiece. If George wasn't so good, he wouldn't have been section leader. No one in the band liked him. I don't know if anyone, in band or not, liked him.

"Hey Rache…why don't you come to my sectional?" Sydney's question came out of nowhere.

"What?"

"Come to trumpet sectionals with me. The older guys won't mind, Luke's actually been trying to get some of the newer clarinets to go to either our practice or the alto's." She looked excited. Luke was a nice guy. He was captain of the high brass, but according to Sydney, today's sectional was going to be only trumpets because the mellophones were off bonding or something. I thought about it for a moment. I had a chance to learn something and get better so George wouldn't yell at me as much. And Sydney was always saying how cool the people in her section were…

"Okay, let's go." I leapt from the top bunk and grabbed my clarinet case and music. Sydney smiled and we walked out the small cabin door together.

The trumpet sectional was taking place in, for no real reason, the clearing in the woods were the bonfire would be lit at the end of camp. This was all according to Sydney, and she knew this stuff because the older guys in her section actually talked to her. It was such a foreign concept to me.

A few guys were already there, sitting on the ground and playing in the dirt. I stared. Sydney walked over to one and nudged him with her foot.

"Hey Syd! What's up?" The guy jumped to his feet. He was at least a foot taller then Sydney, yet he was looking her in the eye. Sydney turned around to me again. "Chase, this is Rachel. I brought her along cause she wants to not suck."

"Ahhh, I see. Clarinet?" I could only nod. He smiled at me. "You know you're allowed to speak in front of upperclassmen here."

"Okay." I said weakly. This was already too good to be true.

"Great Syd, now we can work on reversing the damage Foster's done." Chase said. His upper lip curled when he said George's last name.

"What damage?" I asked, confused. George had never beaten any of us before. His abuse was just in the verbal category.

"Foster's trying to make you all scared to play, so that he can be the star of the section. It's selfish, and it's hurting the band." Chase explained. He was right. I was so scared of playing a wrong note that I now played so softly no one could hear me. I nodded in agreement.

Slowly the rest of the section arrived. Luke came later then everyone else, carrying his trumpet and a bag filled with what looked like shirts. The trumpets eyes' lit up. I was seated in between Sydney and a senior trumpet player that everyone called Batman. Luke looked at his section and I, all of us seated on the logs near the fire pit.

"Well, I see that we have a new member," Luke said, "Aren't you Rachel?" He asked me. I was surprised that he was even addressing me. And that he even knew my name. "Yeah I am." He smiled.

"Everyone, this is Rachel. She's a freshman and she plays clarinet." Luke said, efficiently introducing me to the rest of the nine person section. I waved and stood up. I was getting more comfortable in the section and around the older members of the band.

"Alright, everyone. We're going to work on the second song of the show and then….SECTION SHIRTS!!" Luke looked overly excited at the thought of section shirts. I didn't get it. The rest of the section, however, burst into cheers. Cries of "Are they hot pink like last year?" could be heard from some of the vets. Luke allowed his section to yell for a bit before quieting them down.

"No, they aren't pink," A collective sigh of relief could be heard. "Since our school colors include green, I thought that our shirts should be the same." With a flourish, he pulled one of the shirts out of the bag. It was bright neon green. "But better, of course. We are the trumpet section."

"They're better then last year at least." Someone said.

"Yeah I know." Luke said, stuffing the shirt back into the canvas bag. "But to get to do shirts tonight, you guys have to do well on the music. Deal?" He looked around at the faces of each of his trumpet players. They nodded. "Okay, everyone up! Everyone got music? Flip folders and lyres? Good. From the top. One, two!" All the horns snapped up at once. I was only a millisecond behind them. At clarinet sectionals, we never actually rehearsed as a section. It was just "Go find people with the same part as you and practice." George never ran a rehearsal like Luke. Luke's was structured but fun. George said if he heard any voices over the music he'd take reeds. I instantly liked Luke better.

At the end of the song, Luke cut everyone off. "Okay, what can we do better next run though?" He survived his trumpets.

"Watch the key." A sophomore named Allen said. Luke nodded. "Yeah guys, half of you got that there was a key change, but some of you didn't. Mark it in your parts." The section took out pencils and started scribbling notes on their music. "Anything else?"

"Dynamics." Brian said. He was a freshman like Sydney and I.

"Good, I was hoping someone would say that! I can't hear the second part at all. Play louder. Firsts, you guys need to stop trying to carry the section. We're all at fault for that, even me. And Rachel, play out! I know you're under a Nazi captain over in the clarinets and he might eat you if you screw up, but if you play louder and make a mistake, someone will hear and you'll get corrected and learn from it. But if you play so softly no one can hear you, no one will know if you make a mistake so you'll be making the same mistakes over and over again. Understand?" He asked. He was firm, but not angry. I nodded. Luke walked back over to his spot in front of everyone. "If this run is considerably better then the first time though, then we can make our shirts." The older trumpets immediately snapped to attention. Sydney followed their example. Knowing how important the brightly colored shirts were to them, I went to horns up.

"One, two!" Luke gave the count off and the trumpets and I played. It was visibly better then the first run; more notes were hit, and everyone made the key change. I made an effort to play out at the spots where our parts changed and worked on keeping my sound louder then what it had been. Luke was pleased with it, too. He happily put his trumpet in his case and told the trumpets that was the best he's heard them all season. He also told me how I was doing really well and that I was welcomed at any trumpet sectional.

The shirts were passed out to everyone. They were solid green, with the word 'Trumpet' written in black Sharpie on the front, and everyone's name and year on the back, with music notes and random quotes from the section. I stood to leave-I wasn't a trumpet, I didn't need the shirt. I was jealous, however, of the trumpets. They had unity. There I saw the true meaning of band-they were a family. They treated Sydney with respect and were overprotective of her, something that annoyed her but deep down, I knew she loved it. I packed away my clarinet and started to walk back down the path to the cabins.

"Hey Rachel, where are you going?" It was Luke. I turned around. "Well I'm not a trumpet; I don't want to intrude…" Hoping he'd stop me and invite me back to the sectional, I trailed off. My heart sunk when he nodded. "I understand. Ask Sydney when the next sectional is. She'll know."

"Don't you? You're section leader."

"Yeah, but I forgot." He smiled cheekily.

Over the months, I spent more and more time with the trumpets and mellos. The mellos accepted me as well, and were as cool as the trumpets, just…well more mellow. The trumpets were just insane. They ran around like little kids after school on Fridays before the football games, sometimes organizing games of football, playing a very violent version of wall ball, or even attempting to study. The latter was a very short lived idea.

George became even crueler to us as he found out that his section was spending time at the alto's and trumpet's sectionals. He made us run hundreds of laps, thousands of push-ups, and do an immense amount of warm ups. Clarinet sectionals were even more unbearable. Matt had several more talks with George, but they did nothing. I was fed up. I was tired of being George's to push around and I wasn't getting any better with him leading us. I bit my tongue every time he said a mean thing to me, or criticized my playing. Finally, at the practice, I broke.

"Hooper! Why aren't you playing loud enough?!" He yelled at me. "Why are you so stupid?! It's because you've been hanging around with those trumpets, isn't it? They're teaching you things!" I felt my face go red, but not with embarrassment. Anger. He could insult me, my playing, and my clarinet. But nobody-and I mean nobody insults my friends.

"Yeah, they have been teaching me things. More then I've ever learned from you." I said, my voice even and my eyes locked onto his. George looked shocked for a moment, and then glared at me. The rest of the clarinets stopped what they were doing to look at us-at me with awe and George in horror.

"Excuse me, Hooper?"

"You heard what I said. In the trumpet section, you're a friend, family to them. In the clarinet section, you're dirt. Well guess what? I like not being dirt." I was angry. I spent the better part of the season getting treated like I was crap, and I wasn't going to take it anymore. I was hoping that someone would take my side, because George was turning red and looking as if he could kill.

"Push-ups. Now."

"No." It was a male's voice. I turned around to see Luke and the rest of the trumpet section walking toward us.

"What are you doing here?" George sneered. The trumpets were unfazed by him.

"We were on our way for dinner break, in case you didn't notice. But then again, I didn't think vampires could eat." It was Sydney. Her arms were folded across her chest; her trumpet was sticking out from under her arm. The trumpets snickered. A few clarinets smiled, but didn't dare laugh in case George saw them.

"Then we noticed that there was a disturbance involving our friend, so we came to help her." Batman said, waving at me. I waved back. George was now a deep shade of maroon.

"It's none of your business." George snapped.

"What's going on here?" It was Matt, a trumpet player. He also held the position of drum major. George turned to him. "I was disciplining a freshman who was talking out and then the trumpets got involved."

"I see George. Luke, what's going on?"

"George has been horrible to his section all year. Us and the altos have been taking in clarinet rookies all season so they could learn the music without getting yelled at. I believe Rachel was just telling her section leader what she thought of him." Luke smiled at me. "Right?" All I could do was nod.

Matt sighed. "George, you're a great clarinet player, but you're a horrible person." He shook his head. "Come on, let's go." He beckoned to George.

"Where are we going?" For the first time, George paled. "We're going somewhere I should have taken you a long time ago. We're going to go see Coolidge." Matt led George off the field, yelling over his shoulder to pack up and go get dinner.

Laughing at George had never felt so good, surrounded by my friends in the band hall. We had gone down the street and ordered out Chinese, and by the looks of it, we got one of everything on the menu. Halfway through dinner, Luke lifted his plastic bottle of Pepsi and tapped it with his fork. Everyone fell silent and looked at him expectantly.

"A toast. To the bravest little clarinet ever. To Rachel Hooper." He raised his Pepsi and winked at me. Everyone else raised their bottles and yelled "To Rachel Hooper!" I smiled, a little bit embarrassed. "But that's not all! Rachel, we want to give you something. You earned it. If anyone deserves to call themselves this, it's you." He handed me a package that had been messily wrapped and looked to consist of more tape then wrapping paper. It was a typical wrapping job of one of the boys, or even Sydney. She was really one of the guys. I put down my plastic knife and fork and pushed aside the noodles and egg roll I had, making room to put the package down. Tearing into it, I was touched by what I saw.

It was a lime green trumpet section shirt. But it had been altered. On the front, above trumpet was written the word 'Honorary' and on the back, my name had been added, and some of my quotes were on the shirt too. The section grinned then pealed off their hoodies, all to reveal their section shirts. They all had been changed to include my name and quotes on the back.

"Group hug!" Luke yelled. We all hugged over the food, making sure not to squish it. Unfortunally, the fried dumplings were stepped on by Brian, and we immediately had to have a funeral for it.

All normal in the life of the trumpet section.

A/N-Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in a review!