LUNA'S POV
It's a weekday at the Loud house, which is equivalent to saying "everything is pure chaos". As always, Lori wakes up every kid in the house, starting with me and Luan, seeing how our bedroom is across from hers. However, as opposed to being woken up first, the two of us (Sam tucked under my arm) are woken up last.
Lori opens the door, giving its surface a gentle rap. She gives the wake up order, and Sam stirs groggily from beside me.
As is the routine every morning, I get out of bed fairly quickly, seeing how I'll fall back asleep if I don't. By the time Sam rose from my bed, I was completely dressed.
"Need to borrow clothes, dude?" I ask, finger gunning in Sam's direction.
"Yes please." The girl answers rather groggily, rubbing at her tired eyes.
It's now commonplace for Sam and I to borrow each other's clothes. Getting dressed in front of one another has also been normalized.
It's hard to suppress my amusement upon seeing Sam's reaction to the bathroom. My siblings, like a gigantic mob, huddling around the bathroom sink, taking care of their everyday necessities and fighting over the hairbrush.
"Ooo." I hiss through my teeth. "Forgot about… that." I murmur, pointing at the image of chaos before us. I take Sam's hand, clutching it with tight desperation.
"Don't let go, love." I whisper into my girlfriend's ear, slipping into my faux British accent.
Leaving Sam with little to no time to react, I dash towards a gap in the fray, Sam practically flying behind me. Pushing and squeezing my way through the jumble, I manage to get my hands around a hairbrush.
"Hey!" Lola shrieks, her hand having been inches away from what I had just snatched. "That's mine!" she cries.
"Sorry, dudette." I gasp amid the tangle of people. I still have Sam's hand in a death grip, my knuckles practically turning white. I begin to quickly back out.
"I have shorter hair." I make the excuse right as my foot comes down on someone else's. A gasp, presumably female, emits from the foot's owner. "Sorry." I hiss apologetically.
I take another step backwards, unaware that the same individual stands directly behind me. Floundering helplessly for a moment, I'm unable to stop myself from pitching backwards, taking down the unknown person along with me.
The two of us hit the ground with a thud that seems to resonate throughout the hallway. Underneath me, the girl releases a forced exhale, the wind knocked out of her.
I quickly roll off, my eyes widening upon realizing that it's Sam. She shakes her head as if to clear it, her hair frazzled and sticking up of its own accord. I frown at my actions, however accidental.
"Sorry, Sam!" I apologize for at least the third time that morning, making an effort to smooth Sam's hair back. I release a chuckle, and Sam grins at my amusement.
"Why do we always have this way of falling on one another?" I giggle, and my statement is followed by the exit of Luan from the bathroom.
"I guess you could say that you fell for her." Luan jokes before retreating down the stairs in a fit of laughter. I roll my eyes, aware that I should have expected at least one pun this morning.
Sam, however, is lost within a fit of giggles. My eyes soften as I witness my girlfriend's giddy attitude. I grin shyly, considering the scene that's playing out right now. Sam and I sprawled outside the bathroom door, a hairbrush clutched in my hand. It really is funny.
My grin morphs into a smile, and I release a loud laugh. I cover my mouth to stifle the sound, a snort escaping through my fingers. Sam only laughs harder at my inhumane noises, causing me to laugh greater still.
Finally, our laughter dies down, and I wipe at my sopping eyes. Sam does the same.
"I'm lucky that I haven't applied my mascara yet." Sam giggles. I watch Sam wipe at her eyes, releasing the occasional giggle here and there.
It's good to see your tears fueled by happiness, Sam.
I gently place the hairbrush within Sam's hands. "Thanks, Lunes." Sam murmurs, her sparkling eyes meeting mine. "Are you sure that you don't want to use it first?" She asks, making a move to hand the hairbrush to me. I shake my head.
"Nah, dude, you use it." I state before leaning over to whisper in Sam's ear. "You better use it fast, hun. You don't want to see Lola mad."
As I pull away, I swear that Sam's face blanches slightly. I wink and rub my girlfriend's shoulder as a way of consoling her. Sam grins weakly. She eyes the hairbrush before running it through her blonde strands.
"You really know your way around a large house, huh?" Sam chuckles, and I brush aside her comment.
"Pssh, a girl's gotta do what she can to survive." I state. From the corner of my eye, I swear I saw Lincoln's eyes widen at my statement, but I think nothing of it.
The last five minutes in the morning are, by far, the most chaotic. Everyone is suddenly aware that there's consequences to their procrastination, and are practically tripping over themselves to get to the front door. In my case, that means tripping over my cumbersome guitar care as I lug it down the stairs.
Unlike the other individuals in the house, Sam is seated upon the couch. She calmly coos to Cliff, who is lying on her lap and purely relishing in the gentle scratches he's receiving.
"Woah, dude, you're ready already?" I question, pointing in Sam's direction.
Sam smiles sweetly. "Yeah, if you can believe it." She states.
Vying for attention as well, Charles leaps onto Sam's lap, curling into a ball. Sam provides the dog with a couple gentle scratches. "Sometimes I move pretty quickly in the morning to help assist my mom and brother in getting ready for school."
I can't help but smile upon hearing of Sam's selfless actions. More proof that she's an absolute sweetheart, I think thoughtfully as I join Sam on the couch.
"Heh." I chuckle. "In this house, it's every man for himself… or in our case, every girl and one boy for themselves." I joke, and Sam giggles at my statement right as my siblings arrive downstairs.
The ride to school was fairly easy going. Even though my siblings and I promised one another that we wouldn't tussle over privileges, I managed to sneak Sam into the seat dubbed the "sweet spot" in Vanzilla.
One of the first things I notice upon meeting up with the band that morning is how chipper Alex is looking. They're evidently trying to conceal a large grin, and I see a small skip in their step.
"Woah, bro, you're looking rather happy today." I observe, smiling at Alex's face as it widens with a smile.
"Maybe I am… maybe I'm not." Alex replies rather mischievously, and I chuckle at the idea that Mazzy is most likely rolling her eyes.
"Alex, even you know we're not falling for that." Mazzy says, nudging her friends lightly. "Come now, spill the beans. What's got you so happy?"
Flattered and clearly eager to share their thoughts, Alex rubs their hands together.
"I mean, well…" They begin as the five of us arrive at Sam's locker. My girlfriend begins rummaging for her textbook.
"So I came up with the best idea last night." Alex states with giddy excitement, and Sully gestures to his sibling.
"You should've heard it. They were playing the same chords over and over last night." Sully states. "But seriously, it was totally rockin'!"
Their excitement only increasing, Alex continues their explanation. "I'm hoping to show it to Mrs. V during rehearsal today. Maybe we can incorporate it into our song!"
Cheers erupt between the five of us.
"Best idea ever!" Sully exclaims between excited punches to the air.
"Much better than Danny Dinkle's idea." I murmur, exaggerating an eye roll. My other bandmates laugh. That is, all of them except Sam. She slams her locker door shut, biology textbook in hand.
"Aw, jeez, go easy on Danny, you guys. He's trying his best." Sam murmurs, making her way down the hall. We follow suit.
"Sam, you were always too nice for your own good." Mazzy pipes up.
"You've got me there." Sam laughs, the sweetest smile framing her face.
The five of us arrived at rehearsal much earlier than usual that afternoon. This was mostly due to Alex's extreme excitement. We had to slow them down to avoid a collision with a couple small freshmen students.
"Mrs. V!" Alex interjects upon entering the band room. Mrs. V, having been practicing the trumpet before we entered, sets aside her instrument to smile at us.
"Mrs. V, I have something to show you." Alex pants from the exertion of running practically the entire length of the school. Michelle and Doug-who were indulging in coffee at the other end of the room-approach us upon hearing of Alex's excitement.
"Do tell!" Mrs. V states, maintaining rapt attention. Alex hesitates upon noticing Michelle and Doug's arrival, but a nudge to the ribs by Mazzy brings them back to reality.
"Here." Alex collects a folded piece of paper from their pocket, and Michelle raises a judgmental eyebrow. Unfolding the paper, Alex places it within Mrs. V's awaiting hands. "I spent, well, hours on it last night." Alex states.
Alex isn't one to brag or show off their work very often (aside from their hostility when we first met), and it's evident that they're trying to dwindle down their excitement a little bit. Mrs. V's eyes sparkle as she gazes at Alex's sheet notes. Alex's pride spikes again upon seeing the teacher's reaction.
"These notes played on an electric guitar will make it even better." Alex pipes up as they gesture to me. "Luna could play it on her Logan V80 Shredder. She's really talented."
Flattered by Alex's comment, I gaze up with pleading eyes. Mrs. V claps her hands together with sheer excitement and enjoyment.
"Why, I think your idea is great!" Mrs. V states before turning to regard the two judges. They look less than pleased.
"It's… cute, but I doubt that a performance like that will get an audience." Michelle states, and Doug nods with agreement.
"C'mon, the audience is the least of our concerns." Mazzy adds, and I quickly pipe up.
"Yeah, dudes!" I cry out. "Audience doesn't matter. Everyone comes to the Royal Rumble every year anyway. As long as we're having fun, it-"
"Don't talk back to me, Loud!" Michelle snaps irritably, and I bite my tongue to silence myself.
"We're professionals, and therefore, we know what draws an audience in." Doug adds, and Michelle nods curtly.
"Mr. Rockwell… Miss Lewis… don't you think the kids should give it a shot? Be open minded, perhaps?" Mrs. V murmurs, seemingly unaware as to what she should say.
On the brink of panic, Alex shifts their gaze between the adults in the room, pleading silently. "N-no seriously." They stammer. "Here, I'll play you a little…"
Voice faltering, Alex fumbles for their ukulele. "Just let me-"
"Alex."
The voice that speaks is surprisingly calm, though the tone is laced with hostility. Unsurprisingly, Michelle is the owner of the voice.
"Alex." She repeats. "Be quiet." Michelle's voice hardens menacingly; the air so dense that one could crack an egg against it. I can practically hear Alex swallow hard. Hands trembling, their ukulele is halfway out of their bag.
"What?" The way Alex speaks so feebly stirs a sadness within me.
"I said… be quiet." The hostility in Michelle's voice has only increased, and it's beginning to set my nerves on edge.
"Do you think I wish to hear your grating performance?" Michelle states as Doug snatches the sheet music from Mrs. V's hands. The two judges look at it, their gaze calculating and altogether intimidating.
"It's… getting there." Doug states hesitantly. "But even then, who will listen to this? If you want to get recognized for your work, you have to step it up." There's a brief pause as Doug places the now crumpled piece of paper on a nearby desk.
"I listened to it." Sully states, desperately trying to console his sibling. Alex smiles, albeit weakly. "It was really rad. If you'd only just-"
"'Rad' is not what we're going for." Doug interrupts, his scowl now incredibly prominent. "We thrive in the music industry, children, so we know what's best."
I feel the violent urge to snap a retort. Everyone seemed to enjoy my unscripted performance on America's Next Hitmaker, so I don't see why we can't call the shots or decide what to perform.
Evidently distressed by the judge's words, Mrs. V tries to interject, but Doug cuts her off with a glare. "Since when were you able to make the decisions, Nancy?" He snaps, and Mrs. V closes her mouth hesitantly. A wicked smirk frames the man's face upon seeing Mrs. V's inferior position.
"Thought so." Doug states. "You can't make the decisions anymore. It says so in writing."
Doug's words are an obvious slap in the face for Mrs. V, for the woman feebly drops her head, defeated. My mind blanks on what Doug's words could have possibly meant, but Mrs. V's reaction says enough: it's nothing good. My breath catching in my throat, I suddenly feel small under the authority of Michelle and Doug. I feel like an unsuspecting bug on the verge of being trampled on by a large boot. Two large and hotheaded feet, to be exact.
"Nobody will ever listen to this, sweetie." Michelle snaps in Alex's direction as she gestures to the sheet music on the table.
Though it's unlike Alex to show a lack of confidence regarding their work, at that moment, my bandmate was doing just that. They look down at their sneakers, their feet shuffling side to side.
As if to get her words across, Michelle takes a large step towards Alex. She places her hands on her hips in an intimidating stance. "Nobody." She repeats.
Alex raises their head, taken aback by the threatening manner with which the woman speaks. Their eyebrows are furrowed, whether from distress or anger, I can't be quite sure.
"Not even your own mother."
Michelle's words send shock waves through my entire body, once again halting my breathing. An anger so hot, like that of liquid coals, courses through my veins.
"She did not just say that." Mazzy murmurs with disbelief from beside me. There's an evident growl to her voice.
A silence, so excruciatingly long and painful, follows, and all of my bandmates share the same expression: that of disbelief and pure loathing. All of my bandmates besides Alex, that is to say. The green haired individual gazes between Michelle and Doug through glassy eyes.
Suddenly, their mental state flipping like a coin, their eyes well up with tears. They whimper briefly before dashing from the band room, releasing a bout of tears.
Visibly shocked and concerned, my bandmates look in the direction of the now-empty doorway. Michelle and Doug look to be rather shocked themselves. Particularly Michelle; she didn't seem to grasp the impact that her words had on the teenager.
Mrs. V holds a hand to her chest, sympathy clouding her features.
My mind freezes in a mental image. Alex, their eyes filled with tears as they fled from the room. Sam, Sully, and Mazzy's expressions all showcased disbelief and an indescribable amount of loathing.
Mazzy acts fast, skirting around Danny Dinkle as he enters the classroom. I follow close behind, Sully and Sam on my tail. I rush by Danny so fast that the boy spins in his spot by the doorway.
Out in the hall, I barely catch Mazzy as she skirts a corner, her foot disappearing out of sight. Compelling my feet to move faster, I slide along the linoleum as I take a sharp turn.
Nothing. Nobody. The hallway is bare.
"Where's Mazzy?" Sully gasps as he turns the corner, Sam panting behind him. Gathering herself, Sam peers at the surrounding doors.
"They must have gone into the bathroom." Sam states, gesturing towards the girl's restroom. The three of us approach the thick door, though we can hear the sound of choking sobs penetrating through. We nod to one another, knowing we're at the right place.
Finally, we heave, giving the door a gentle push.
