All too soon, my friends joined me with cloth roses on their lapels. There was a big round of applause for all first-year marchers, during which we clapped and blushed with happiness. Grinning, we stood back to watch the second years get their double-flowers, and the third years get their three-flower pins. All this was done with great ceremony, so it seemed to take forever.

Seniors were last. Fourth-year marchers, they had the three other pins from the previous years fixed on too, like walking florist ads. They were the ones that really became teary-eyed, and as the BD gave them each a hug it half of the audience wanted to cry too. These were our seniors, section leaders that had marched every year they had been in Lynbrook. The "section leaders" part was enough to make us, their subordinates, cry. Sure, they'd tortured us, (well not really, not for flutes) given us memory tests, (only one…) yelled at us…(to get our attention…) But even if all the bad things weren't diluted, the good parts still overbalanced. They had tuned us before competitions, when we couldn't do it ourselves because we were tone-deaf; they had shown us how to put on gauntlets and when we messed up, done it for us; shown us how to cut gloves, how to play trills, been available online for last-second advice.

And the Drum Major. He was the one we'd miss the most, and not only because of his conducting skills. You would be hard-pressed to find someone that hated our drum major. He was probably the funniest one out there, and great at what he did (although he WAS in guard last year. Scary.) since he always got 1st DM in every competition. As he received his pin, everybody clapped, cheered, screamed, and in every way voiced their pride…

Sappy, maybe. But true.

And the speeches that came next were just as sappy. I listened to about half of them, since some were aimed at last year's marchers and up, and some were punctuated by tears and sobs. Crying is all right if it's someone you know and admire, but if the guard section leader and random guardies are sobbing out a "we're so proud of you and we'll miss you" speech it's pretty easy to get bored. The speeches and flower ceremony took about an hour, but they weren't over yet.

The Last 8-and-8s were yet to come.

Seniors lined up for yet another ceremonious procedure. There they were, proud, in an almost-perfect line, standing at strict attention, arms perfectly lined up with their legs, chins proudly up, full uniform with the flowers. The Visuals guy began talking, saying the best things about them, how proud they were, how they were happy to be part of the Vikings, how they'd miss it, how they'd give it their all on the field.

"Enough!" Jennie whispered. "He's making them cry. They're sad enough as it is."

"Hehe… he's making you cry too." I sniffed, also teary. Again. "And me."

"Ugh, I hope it doesn't rain" someone muttered. Sh, I thought. The seniors did deserve a grand send-off, and they were sure getting it, as the command was given.

"Resume HUT!" Oh god. He looked so solemn.

All the seniors stepped forward on the left foot, intensely concentrating, guiding, rolling, all the things they'd bashed into us onfield yet had sometimes forgotten themselves. We'd delighted in catching them before, but now it was the faces we observed, not the feet.

Serious faces. Faces we'd miss next year, faces we associated with instruments and personalities. I remembered the first marching tutorial, in the summer. We had been sent off with a guy called Jesse, to learn the box drill. He was goofing off with his little friend, making us laugh, and we'd liked him at once. Then there was Mike, a Japanese guy who couldn't pronounce "left" properly, so someone else had drilled us in slides and flanks. All these people that had first seemed as random faces in the crowd, now with names and personalities pinned on.

Now, they were once again faces. I mentally fingered the pins, then pushed them in deeper. I'd always remember the section leaders from this year.

A/N: didn't get as far as I wanted. My most sappy chapter to date, but too bad. Do more later. Review, please! Flames welcome!!