The buses arrived at the college somewhere in the late afternoon. After unloading the bags and instruments that had sat idle in the Grey Hounds' storage area, the students made their way to their assigned rooms. They stayed in empty dorms, two to a room. Naturally, Marth and Meta were rooming together, being the best friends that they were. They boys sauntered down a hallway of a designated building, each dragging heavy luggage and backpacks and wearing room keys they had been given around their necks. It was easy for them to find their room, for they had occupied the same space for three consecutive years now. They entered the room and looked about, vaguely able to recognize the pale walls and bare furniture. Two unmade beds sat against opposite walls and a desk stood between them.

Meta threw his backpack onto the bed on the right and let his suitcase drop to the floor. Marth copied his friend, but instead let his pack fall onto the left bed. The blue haired boy sat next to his bag and let his back fall onto the stripped mattress. He sighed deeply, closing his cerulean eyes.

"This is it." He murmured. "This is the last time we'll come here like this."

"You're such a drama queen." Meta interjected, watching his friend take in the sense of the room. Then he sat down next to Marth, closer than usual for lack of space. "Don't get all sentimental on me." He continued. "We've still got the whole year ahead of us." And with that, Meta leaned over his friend and patted his head mockingly. Marth smirked in response, batting the hand away.

A knock at the door caught the two off guard. Ike opened the door and entered the space without waiting for permission, with a shorter blonde boy following him.

"Good afternoon, comrades." The boy with spiky blue hair greeted. A room key hung around his neck, reading a room number not far from Marth and Meta's. The blonde's key held the same number.

"Looks like we came in at the wrong time." The blonde commented, smiling and elbowing Ike playfully.

"Sure does, Link." Ike responded with a smirk, eyeing his friends on the bed. Meta was still leaning over Marth, who was still lying on his back.

"Honestly, guys," Marth said, sitting up and letting Meta lean back. "Even if Meta and I did have homosexual tendencies, it wouldn't be nice to tease us about it." Marth's voice was completely calm and controlled; he was unaffected by the judgment of the others.

"Just admit it, Marth." Ike retorted, smirk still staining his expression. "You guys are so gay for each other." Meta's head snapped back at the trumpet player, sudden anger apparent in his golden eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Ike." Marth said, rising from the bed. "But Meta always has been and always will be just my best friend." Marth didn't seem bothered by the comment, knowing it was just a product of teenage stupidity. Meta, on the other hand, didn't appreciate his relationship with his best friend questioned. So in a silent fit of rage, Meta got off of the mattress and stood directly under Ike's gaze. The drummer was a good head shorter than the trumpet player, but obviously Meta was too stubborn to care about size.

"You know, Ike," He hissed, his yellow eyes fierce. "The people who call others gay are usually the ones struggling to hide their own homosexuality." Even as small as he was, Meta could be incredibly intimidating. The gold in his pupils burned feverishly, showing the quiet fury he held inside of him. Poor Ike was just forced to stand over him, frozen in body and mind by the almost animalistic glow in Meta's expression. When was satisfied by the stunned face in front of him, Meta smirked the slightest bit. Before finally turning out from under Ike's stare, Meta shot a painfully fake grin at the trumpet player. This instantly melted the ice that had kept Ike frozen in place, now letting him shake himself back into composure.

"God," Ike mumbled, still flustered by the odd exchange that had just occurred between Meta and himself. "Your eyes are so freaking blood curdling."

Meta, now standing next to Marth again, winked in response. Although Ike was unbelievably frustrated with the dark haired boy, he knew better than to challenge him further. Meta was incredibly protective of what he cared about, and would go to almost any lengths to protect it when necessary. Unfortunately for Ike, he wasn't high at all on the list of people Meta cared about. Marth, being Meta's best friend, was very high on said list.

"Well if you two are done flirting," Marth said, distracting the quarreling boys. "Then I'm gonna go grab some dinner with the rest of the band." It didn't surprise Marth that his two friends were fighting; they did so on a daily basis. The two could be so alike that they couldn't stand it, and so their personalities would clash. Most of the time, Marth would act as the mediator and bring the argument to a close, but this time he was too tired and fed up with the two to care.

Meta shot his friend a look, aggravated by his 'flirting' comment. Marth gazed back at him calmly, forcing the drummer to disregard his feelings of irritation.

"Wanna come with me, Link?" Marth asked, shifting his eyes to the blonde awkwardly standing by the open door. Link's head perked up in response and then he smiled and nodded. Marth strode over to the blonde trombone player, aware of the two pairs of eyes watching him. He didn't care, though, and disregarded any thoughts about turning back as he took Link's arm and started pulling him down the hallway.

Meta and Ike stood in the room for a moment longer, watching Marth leave them behind. Both boys monitored each other in their peripheral visions, wondering who would make the first move and chase after their friends. Ike sighed after another long moment, giving in and beginning to follow in the steps of Marth and Link. But all of a sudden, Meta skipped in front of him, wanting to be the first to catch up with his favorite clarinet player.

The four boys arrived at the cafeteria towards the end of the rush. Meaning they were stuck at almost the end of the line. Marth talked mainly with Link, occasionally throwing a comment back to Meta and Ike, who stood in silence behind them. Many students had already taken their seats with their meal, having been towards the front of the line. Meta's eyes wandered over the small crowd, his gaze not remaining in one particular place until one person caught his attention. Sheik was another close friend of Meta's. He was a junior and his right hand man when it came to managing the drum line. It wasn't surprising that the young drummer chose to sit by himself. In fact, Meta almost expected it.

Sheik was quiet and shy, fairly similar to Marth in this way. He was talented, but also had issues with leadership like Meta's best friend. The main difference between the young drummer and the clarinet player was the fact that Marth was respected, and Sheik was not. People automatically assumed that Sheik was a screw up because he never talked and tried to hide his face with his hair and clothing. The drummer was a good guy though, even if he wasn't the most talkative.

"I think we should sit with Sheik." Meta said out loud, his eyes still locked on his fellow drummer. Marth's gaze drifted from Meta to Sheik sitting by himself and back again.

"Sure," He answered with a smile. "That'd be cool."

"Do we have to sit with that burnout?" Ike whined, earning glares from both Marth and Meta. Link didn't seem to care for the conversation developing between his friends. Instead, he kept his mind preoccupied with daydreams of a cheerleader he had acquired feelings for.

"He's not a burnout." Meta growled, his eyes fiery again. Ike ignored the intense stare and smirked in the direction of where Sheik sat.

"But he is a junior." Ike continued. "And we're all seniors."

"Oh, please." Marth said, a laugh apparent in his voice. "Don't tell me your going to put this kid down because of his age. I distinctly remember one young trumpet player who would always abandon his friends to sit with the seniors the past three years."

Like always, Marth had caught Ike contradicting himself. It wasn't a hard thing to accomplish, but it always made Marth feel extremely clever. However, he never showed the pride he took in his smart remarks. Instead he constantly maintained the humble composure his friends expected from him.

"Fine, we'll sit with him." Ike grumbled, trying to hide the way his cheeks were burning with frustration.

The boys continued through the line of students and eventually selected their dinner from a buffet. Just as Meta had wanted, they sat in the unoccupied seats that surrounded Sheik. The junior didn't speak when the boys set their trays down around them, instead just looking to Meta with a questioning expression.

"I wanted to sit with you." Meta clarified, sitting down next to his younger friend. Again, Sheik didn't speak, but looked around at the people accompanying Meta. "They tagged along." Meta continued, answering Sheik's unspoken question. Although Sheik was obviously uncomfortable with this arrangement, he decided not to question it and buried his face in his arms on the table.

Marth watched the young drummer detach himself from the situation, and reluctantly wished he could do the same. Marth spent almost all of his time with Meta and the others, and often he became bored with whatever they were talking about. He assumed this week would be no different than always, which secretly disappointed him. Although he liked band and his friends, Marth desperately wanted a change. For four years now it had been the same routine, never caring to step out of his comfort zone. He'd never had the drive to do the things that most teenagers did, like rebel against parents or constantly have a girlfriend. Now that he thought about it, Marth discovered he'd never actually had a real relationship.

Girls had told them they liked him before, but he was never interested enough to pursue anything. Marth looked around the cafeteria, observing the fact that he was at the only table that contained members of only one gender. His eyes scanned over the females of the room and he noticed a flirtatious on almost all of their faces as they fawned over whomever they happened to be talking to. He stopped when he got to one girl. Her eyes were downcast, as if she was in deep thought. A long golden braid fell over her shoulder and she wore simple attire. Marth knew who she was, and he'd never taken much notice of her until now. It was Zelda, first chair in the flute section. She was undoubtedly beautiful with her long hair and bright eyes, but there was something else, something in her expression, that caught Marth's attention. She obviously sat amongst laughing friends, which is something that should make a person happy of course, but there was an almost melancholic aura that emitted from her.

Marth found himself staring at Zelda for a long time, confused and interested in what she could be thinking. Before long, Zelda looked up and shook herself from her daze. She looked around the room nervously, hoping no one had noticed her momentary loss of composure. Her gaze briefly locked with Marth's, before he came to his senses and looked away shyly. Zelda was caught off guard by how the clarinet player had been looking at her, and even after he looked away, she kept staring in his direction.

Marth felt excessively stupid when he felt Zelda still looking his way. She probably thinks I'm some lovesick puppy now, he thought. It was embarrassing enough being caught gaping at a girl like a little boy, and Marth kicked himself mentally when he felt a blush edging around his cheeks. Arrrrrrgh, come on! Get it together! She's just a girl! Why are you freaking out?

Zelda had known who Marth was for a long time, but she'd never talked to him outside of school. She looked at him now, obvious embarrassment etched on his face as he tried to ignore her gaze. His face was flushed and a pinkish color was creeping its way under his cerulean eyes. How had she never really noticed him before? His blue locks weren't exactly common, and his large eyes were deeper and more prominent than most. After overlooking this boy for so long, Zelda couldn't help but stare at the clarinet player…and think about how cute he was.