Mr. Ward was a pretty chill guy.

The band teacher showed no issue about it. Didn't ask for any reassurances about a completely new and unknown kid being in the practice room alone or rules of being in there or questioning the want of eating lunch there. Just an easy response that boiled down to, 'go ahead'.

It took Danny aback.

But, giving a thanks, Danny went for it and headed over to the pointed out door. One tiny short passageway, two small offices on one side and two small practice rooms on the other. He took the first, the one across from Mr. Ward's office, leaving the one across the middle school band teacher's office alone.

It was tiny. Cramped along the sides with folded chairs and spare music stands and a few battered old metal cabinets. Vaguely curious, Danny leaned to peek into a drawer halfway pulled out and saw it was packed with music books and sheet music marked in folders for various instrumental duets. Glancing back through the door's tiny window, he ran his fingers up the piano keys before sitting on the bench in front of it to eat.

Alone. No overtures of friendship. Finally.

Bite after bite, Danny munched, barely tasting it, eyes slowly taking in the room.

He got what he wanted.

To be left alone.

Danny swallowed the last of his sandwich.

It was...nice.

He was alone. Like he wanted. Why did it not feel better?

He sat unmoving, unsettled by the gnawing sensation of something eating at him, not reaching inside the packed bag as he worked it out.

He was alone. Exactly what he wanted.

But.

He didn't want to be alone.

Lonely.

He didn't want-

He stiffened.

It was better this way. It was for the best.

Danny clenched his fists, eyes squeezed shut, repeating lies until they became true.

Good. Fine. Better.

The music ebbed and flowed, vibrations easy to hear, as was the chit chatting going on during the breaks and pauses. Everyone out there. Him in here.

Alone.

Not part of them.

No friends, no family, no...

In this tiny and claustrophobic, hugely empty room, away from everything and everyone.

For the best.

Fingernails dug sharp into his palms. His jaw shook.

His best wasn't-

Off green shaded the white walls.

Twisting, forcing that in, he gave in to the need of out and slammed his hands onto the piano.

Loud notes clashed, pounded, jarred. Drowning out any noise from outside the room. Any other noise from inside the room. Hands kept going, frantic and forceful, keys didn't need to be seen.

Can't breathe.

Drown it out.

Thoughts. Loneliness. Grief. Change. Everything different. Without them. Pain. Hurts. Too much. Not enough.

Eons later, spent, gulping for breath, sobs juttering up and out from his ribs, Danny lifted his head, swiping at his face, blearily looking around.

He should get to class.

Then he noticed a slip of paper by the door. As though...someone had tucked it under. Alarmed, Danny shot his head up to the small window. No one was there. Cautiously, he stood up to pick up the paper.

A note.

''I've alerted your next class you won't be there." Danny read. "Take all the time you need. My office is open if you need anything else."

Startled, Danny blinked.

And shoved down on his sister's voice and shoved the paper deep into his pocket before leaving the practice room and band area as quickly as humanly possible.

As if you are, his mind taunted.

Like that did him any good. Like he was fast enough to be of any good.

Heat flushed through his body. Echoing screams.

Don't think of it, don't think of it, don't think of it.

You know how to take away the pain, another voice whispered in his head.

No!

Don't think of it, don't think of it, don't think of it!

Sad Danny continues? Ah, man!