AN: I guess I'll just jump right into this... This isn't the first fanfic I've written, but it IS the first one I've published. Consider this a sort of test. This is the prologue right here, so if anyone wants to see more, a review or favorite or follow or really anything would boost my confidence a lot. Even a negative review. Probably. Maybe. I'll stop talking now.
"Dean!" Sam was yelling. "Open up!"
Dean sighed, setting his laptop aside and lazily vaulting himself from his bed. He shuffled to the door and opened it just enough to see his brother's beaming face. The excitement displayed clearly in his wide eyes made him look as if he was twelve, not twenty-two. It was funny how he could do that; trick you into thinking he was so freaking innocent with his puppy dog face and compassionate attitude, when really he was a six-foot-four mass that was more lethal than he let on. But the annoying bitch was interrupting his Dean time; that was unacceptable, puppy dog eyes or no puppy dog eyes.
"What do you want? I'm a little busy," Dean snapped, glancing lustfully back at his computer, which was— thankfully— turned away from Sam. He wanted to get back to his Busty Asian Beauties.
"Dude, you have to come read this."
Dean pursed his lips thinking for a few seconds about whether to turn his younger brother away or not. After casting one more gaze back at his computer, he let out a sigh. "This better be really freaking good."
The taller man grinned and led his brother down the hall to his own room. As he shoved open the door, a nice gust of cool air greeted the boys. It was a hot, June day in Kansas and just the short trek between air-conditioned rooms through the non-air-conditioned hall had Sam and Dean sweating.
Sam immediately went to his laptop, which was sitting open on his desk. Dean followed closely. He was logged into the band's official email, and there was an email pulled up on the screen. Dean rested his hands on the back of his brother's chair and leaned down to read it. It looked something like this:
Hello members of The Hunt!
My name is Kevin Tran. I am a senior at LawrenceHigh School. For my senior project, I have decided to host a "Battle of the Bands." I heard that Sam and Dean graduated from Lawrence, so I thought that it would be a wonderful idea for your band to participate in my project. I would love to have you if you could make it. Email me back if you'd like more details.
Thank you.
Kevin Tran, Advanced Placement.
"So?" Sam prompted, an expectant smirk evident on his face.
"A high school project?" Dean questioned with a frown. "We've toured in Europe, Sammy. Don't you think a high school project is a bit… low-class? And what's up with this Kevin dude? Who signs off their emails with 'Advanced Placement?' What the hell?"
Sam rolled his eyes, obviously unsatisfied with the other man's answer. "Drop your ego a few notches, Dean. Don't you think it'd be fun to revisit our old high school? It's for a good cause. "
"You want us to be used for some hoity-toity dude's grade?"
"Oh, come on, Dean. It's not like we have anything else to do."
"We could be writing songs if you'd get off your ass and help me out."
"It'll probably take hardly a week. Admit it, there's no good reason not to go."
"I'm sure I can think of some reason."
Sam sighed and turned his eyebrows up rather than saying anything. His gaze bore straight into his brother. He knew that Dean wouldn't last long under scrutiny of his puppy dog eyes; he was right.
"Dammit, Sammy! Put that face away!" He pursed his lips. "Fine, we'll go to the freaking Battle of the Bands."
His pout split into a grin. "I'll text Jo and Garth."
Sam retrieved his phone from his pocket as Dean sulked back to his room. He slammed the door shut, plopping onto his bed and lovingly placing the laptop back on his lap. "We probably won't be able to see each other again for a little while," he said to the busty Asian beauties on his screen, thinking sourly of the little amount of alone time he'll be able to have in the upcoming Battle of the Bands, "so let's make this last time a good one."
Castiel huffed out a breath, taking out his phone and pretending to text someone. He was waiting for his order at Starbucks. He had come here with Balthazar, but his friend was currently in the bathroom and standing alone in a public place made Castiel extremely self-conscious.
"Medium coffee with two creams," a girl in her late teens called distractedly, placing a Styrofoam cup on the counter beside Cas. He grabbed it immediately and brought it over to the counter with condiments and what not on it. After adding three sugars to his coffee and stirring it in, he began to shuffle to one of the tables near the window at the front of the shop when he heard his name being called.
"Castiel!" Balthazar was yelling. Cas blushed as several people in the store looked toward the bathrooms where his friend was wildly gesturing for Cas to come over. Scrunching up his nose, he ran over to the blond man.
"Cut it out Balthazar," he hissed, "people are staring."
"Come on, Cassie." Balthazar nudged the other man's bicep with his elbow. "You gotta get over your weird social anxiety if you ever want to perform on stage. Besides, you're totally at least an eight, maybe even a nine. You should want people to look at you."
Cas pursed his lips, an almost pained expression crossing his face. "What does that even mean?"
"It doesn't matter, that's not why I called you over here."
"Then why did you call me over here?"
Rather than replying, Balthazar pointed out a flyer that was pinned to the bulletin board in front of him.
Cas frowned as he studied the paper. "Battle of the Bands," he read aloud, "at Lawrence High." He cast his scowl at Balthazar. "Are you suggesting we partake in this?"
"We'd get a record deal if we won. This could be our big break, Cassie!"
Castiel dropped his eyes to the floor. "Balthazar, I don't think…"
"This could be good for you, Cas. You could finally get over your anxiety, y'know? The more practice you get on stage the fewer issues you'll have."
"Anxiety isn't a sport, Balthazar—"
"Come on, Cas. You can't pass up this opportunity for the band. Think about where this could take us. You have to get over your anxiety eventually."
"You don't just magically get over anxiety!" Cas barked suddenly. A few of the people around glanced toward them yet again, and Cas wanted to curl in on himself and never have to face the world.
Balthazar's eyes softened. "I know you don't, Cas. But you can't spend your entire life in your shell. Please, Castiel? Do it for the band."
Castiel looked up at his friend through his eyelashes. "Fine. We'll try out for the stupid thing. But I doubt we'll get far."
Balthazar ignored the blue-eyed man's negative comment as his face split into a grin. Cas couldn't help but smirk at his friend's overly ecstatic expression.
