Author's Note: Third chapter in less than two weeks! I'm on a roll here!

If you haven't already, check out The 100 Drabble Project. It's a collection of drabbles I'm writing using the characters of ROBAD. There are a lot of good little scenes from before the Dragons were ever formed.

Well, I've got nothing else to say. I'll try to post another chapter before exams start. I was a little disappointed by the lack of reviews. Even if you didn't like the chapter, tell me why. I'm new to all this and I really need all the help I can get.

I made two resolutions when I walked off the plane. One was that I was going to nail that run before the rehearsal camp next month. I wanted to be able to play the opener to the point where I wouldn't I want to run and hide if we had to play it in full ensemble. I was well aware of the immense amount of practice that was going to require. I had a lot of work a head of me.

The other one was that I was going to start running more so I wouldn't want to die the next time we had marching basic with Janice. In truth, I didn't hold out a lot of hope for that one. Every year in January, I said that this year I was going to run more. And every year, I did not. As much as I hoped it would, I doubted that corp would be able change that unfortunate habit.

Life was chaotic when I got back to school. I had exams starting the Wednesday after camp. I thought they were going to kill me, but I somehow managed to pass with decent grades, even in German (but who cares about German anyway). Unfortunately, when exams finished, my life did not become any less stressful. Between school, work, and practicing I had very little time left for anything or anyone. And to top things of, life at home was not the best. Mackenzie was spending so much time with Mark at the house that I was about ready to pack up and move out. I really disliked the girl. I could feel my IQ drop every time I was forced to talk to her, and then she was just a bitch on top of that. I know, that's mean and I'll probably go to hell for that, but if you knew Mackenzie, you would feel the same way.

And to make life more chaotic, Frau Wasser assigned a massive project that was going to be worth a quarter of grade and gave us two weeks to do it. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn she was out to get me. The due date was the day I left for the February rehearsal camp. The only saving grace was that were allowed to work with partners, and my partner was Brian.

We agreed have a work session the Friday before it was due. I figured I could get at least an hour of practice in before I went over to Brian's. I was defiantly improving. While the opener was far from perfect, it was night and day compared to when I got it three weeks ago. The run was coming along, slowly but surely. I was hoping it would be like the tortuous and the hair story; that if I just kept going I would eventually win the race. (I had never heard of anyone comparing a piece of music to a race before, but I figured there was a first time for everything.) After two or so hours of practice I took a shower and headed over to Brian's house to work on the GPH (German project from hell). Not exactly my favorite way to spend a Friday night, but it was the only time we could really work on it and I desperately needed a good grade on this on this.

I rang the doorbell and waited patiently outside. I knew that I could have just walked in; the door was always unlocked and Brian's mother had told me more than once that I was welcome to come in at anytime. Still, after four years, I wasn't comfortable with it.

"Kiwi," Ms. Williams, "come in. You know you're always welcome."

"Thank you," I said coming inside the house, "What's Brian up to?"

"He's in the study," Ms. Williams said, "He's been there all afternoon. He only emerges every few hours to get food and complain about this project. You can go on in; he's expecting you."

The office was a mess of poster boards, open books, and website print-outs and in the center of this mess was the tall, skinny eighteen year old boy that we called Brian. His brown hair was messy and his green eyes were full of frustration. You didn't have to had known Brian as long as I had to tell he was mad.

"This project is going to be the death of me," he said without even looking up from his book.

"You say that on every project. And then you manage to pull of an A every time," I said sitting next to him on the floor.

"Yea, but this time I'm serious."

You wouldn't have guessed it by the tone of his voice. Brian was one of those people that you could always count on to be calm and level headed, regardless of the situation. He was the last to freak out if something went wrong.

I pick up the closest book to me, Encyclopedia of German Tanks of World War Two,and start to flip through. Out project was to make a poster and write at least a three page paper on the Germany military during World War Two in German. It was not fun by any means.

We spent the next four hour reading, translating, writing, cutting, gluing, stapling, and cursing Frau Wasser to the eighth level of hell. When we finally called it quits, we had a completed poster and a little less than two and a half page essay that covered everything from Adolf Hitler to Nazi tanks. We figured that we could write the last half a page during class sometime that week. Ms. Williams had ordered pizza for us, so we sat in the study and ate, celebrating our (almost) complete project.

"Did you here from UC yet?" I asked him after my third slice of pizza. Brain had applied for early acceptance at the University of Cincinnati. Unlike UCLA, who made there early acceptance decision very quickly, UC seemed to take its sweet time. Still, he should have found out by now.

"I withdrew. I got them to put my application back with all the regular ones."

"Can you do that?"

"You can if you make enough phone calls," he said, rolling on to the pillow he had brought in from his room.

I laughed.

"Having second thoughts?" I asked.

"I'm not really sure if I want to commit to one school yet. I'd like to see where else I get into first. You know, know all facts before I make a decision."

"Sound's like a yes to me."

Brian glared at me.

"So now you're forced to wait in agony with the rest of us."

"Yea, that part kind of sucks."

I laughed again.

"I hate waiting," I said, taking a sip of my drink, "I wish someone would tell me now."

"There's no way you won't get in," Brian said without a doubt in his voice, "you're too smart to be rejected".

I had always wished I had his confidence, but I never did.

"Kiwi! Think fast!"

I turned around just in time to get smacked with the pillow Brian threw at me.

"HEY! What was that for?! I didn't do anything to you!"

"Well, you were just sitting there. You can't expect me to just let you be, can you? You know me," Brian explained, defending himself.

"Well if that's how it's gonna be….PILLOW FIGHT!!!!"

Eventually the two of us forgot the pillows and resorted to poking and tickling. We finally ended our epic battle when I couldn't breathe, and he was laughing so hard he was crying. And for just a few moments the worries and stress of college, corp, and German projects from hell escaped me. At that moment, it really hit me how much I would miss Brian while I was on tour…

I was pretty sure that this rehearsal camp would be more intense than the last one. Now that we had had a chance to get to know each other, it was probably time to get down to business. I was prepared for this weekend to be different.

I was not prepared enough.

Friday night was simple. We had sectionals for the first two hours, and then ran the opener (with Beth this time) for the last two hours. All my practicing had paid off. It still wasn't perfect, but I felt confident enough to be able to play during full ensemble. Saturday was a lot like Friday. There were sectionals in the morning and then brass time in the afternoon. Now that I had the opener under my fingers, it was fairly low stress.

And then Saturday night happened and all hell broke lose.

I should have scene it coming when we were told to bring shorts to evening block if we had any. It was twenty degrees outside, and we were supposed to wear short to evening block. However, I did not. I went and had dinner with Uncle Mark and changed into shorts without thinking twice about it. I should have seen it coming when I walked into the band room and saw that hornline and battery were supposed to meet in the gym without instruments. Again, I did not. It finally hit me when I walked into the gym and saw everyone pacing around nervously.

Shit, I though, they're going to makes us run.

This had the potential to really, really, suck.

I waited nervously in a corner of the gym, quietly panicking. Based on past experience, I was not ready for what was about to happen.

A metronome went off and we all sat down, expecting Beth to speak. However, it was Janice standing in the center of the gym, not Beth. Before anyone had time to look for Beth, Janice started speaking.

"We were hoping to get outside today and be able to march, but since it's been way too cold to go outside, we've had to kind of change plans. We've decided that we'll give you a little taste of move-ins.

"Marching a Drum Corp show is different then marching a high school show. A DCI show is at least three times as long as a half time show and two minutes longer than any high school competition show. That doesn't sound like much, but if you do the math that means that a DCI show is twenty-five percent longer. That's a lot. And unlike any high school band, or college band for that matter, you will be moving for almost the entire show. I've seen the drill for the opener. With the exception of the trumpet feature, there is no park and play.

"The show that you will be performing is very intense. I'll just put it bluntly; it's hard. It will demand a lot from you not only mentally, but physically as well. When you walk off the field at finals, you will be in the best shape of your life. Trust me, I speak from experience. Just like with the music, you're going to need to start preparing now.

"During move-ins, you will have about an hour to two hour run after breakfast every morning. Yes, I know, no one wants to run that early, but you could be in the Cavaliers. They have a two hour run every night after they've practicing for twelve hour. So nobody whine or we just may resort to that. But move-ins are in May and it's February. So what are we doing now, you ask? We are going to run, much like we will during move-ins. Except this time, it's with a twist."

Oh dear god, I thought, I'm in trouble.

We all spread out and started stretching. Janice explained what we would be doing. It was fairly simple. We would run for two minutes, and then all do push-ups. Then run for four minute, push-ups, six minutes, more push-ups, and then eight minutes of running followed by a break. Then we would repeat, except doing sit-ups instead of push-ups.

I was pretty sure I was going to die. I hadn't been running since before I could remember.

As Nicole and I took off running, the room heated up like an oven on fast-forward. The heat, plus my being out of shape meant that I began feeling like crap before the first cycle was even over. I was really regretting not keeping my resolution of running right about then.

You know how everyone always says the first time is the worst? They're wrong. The second cycle felt like death. I was proud I was just able to hang in this far, but I was seriously considering taking that option of sitting out that Janice had given. And by the looks on everyone else's face, so were they. But no one wanted to be seen as a quitter, so I kept on pushing.

By the third cycle, I was wondering why I ever joined the Dragons. I could not do this any more. But I forced myself to keep going, determined to finish out. As the end was in sight, I was ready to be very proud I had lived through the experience. But then I was forced to sit out, seeing as I had thrown up.

Damn, NOW I remember why I was going to start running.