((Hey guys! Glad that you're still interested!

Tenorchick-I am actually in the process of writing stories based on my time in marching band. I've written my first and second year, and I'm writing my third year right now. I'm not putting them up on fanfiction, but I intend on getting them published someday!

The Omniscient Bookseller-YAY for guard/oboist people! I really did want to be in marching band, but couldn't march with an oboe so of course I joined guard. My friend is also a guard oboist. . . it's really funny, because when I was in elementary school I taught her some oboe and then last year I taught her colorguard, and this year she joined and we're oboe buddies and guard buddies. Oboists WILL rule the world, we'll show those trumpets! Yay for guard people and oboe people!))

Thus it began. On the first day of high school, I was completely scared and nervous and worried that I wasn't going to find my classes. And I had just been late for math, and that completely freaked me out. All in all, I was your typical scared freshman who was worried about having their head stuffed into a toilet by the upperclassmen ((a/n: I learned later, now that I am an upperclassman, that they really couldn't be bothered with those little freshmen anyway)). I was relieved, though, when I went to concert band fifth period. For one thing, I knew it was only band. And secondly, it was the one place in the school that I knew where it was, because of having been in marching band in 8th grade. So I stepped into that band room for the first time as an actual band person.

I sat with my friends Iris and Katie, two flute players that I knew from last year. Nelly and Arden quit flute and decided not to take band this year, so I was the only one of the three of us who stayed. I knew Iris from marching band, and Katie had sort of latched onto me during gym class that morning. We were all talking, and Iris was helping me with my math homework (yes, I got math homework on the first day! How preposterous!) when the band director, Mr. P, came up to talk to us.

"Alright." Mr. P began. "Some of you are freshman, coming in for the first time, and some of you are upperclassmen who are still in this band. Regardless, I have a few things I have to say to you."

I knew from marching band that Mr. P wasn't anything like Mr. Jameson. I could tell by the way he talked and shuffled music on the stand in front of him that he actually cared about this, rather than careless like Mr. Jameson.

"Welcome to concert band!" He said, this time in a friendlier voice. "I'm sure for you freshman, this will hold some surprises to you. Middle school band is fairly easy. . . the music that you had was really simple, and it wasn't a very serious atmosphere. As I've heard, you barely had any discipline and training."

I nodded to myself. Too true.

"This year, my freshmen, that's all going to change."

I blinked. What?

"Concert band, though it's not as hard or professional as wind ensemble, is still a fairly serious band. You are here because you like music and playing your instrument, and want to improve your musicianship skills. Some of you may be here just because you want an easy class that you can get an A in, but you will be surprised that it's not that easy, and this is a class where we don't hang around and do nothing-we play. This is a band for people who are a lot more serious about playing than in middle school. Here, we learn harder music and we even learn some music theory. We are here to prepare you for wind ensemble, the higher band, where you can really train your music skills."

Hmph. This was weird. I had joined because I was careless, and figured hey, I'd get an easy thing to get an A in, like Mr. P mentioned before. I didn't really care about my musicianship, as he called it. He was taking this ~way~ too seriously, in my opinion. Really, Mr. P, it was just a concert band. No one here cared either.

"But if you are taking this just to get out of class, I suggest you think again. This is a real class. It may not be academic, like math or science, but in a way it's just as much of a real class than any of those others. Hopefully, by the end of this year, many of you will be trained well and ready to move on to wind ensemble. If not, you can always try again for next year." He nodded at us. "Tomorrow, I will begin handing out music. Friday, I would like you all to bring your instruments so we can being playing. The other band director, Dr. Mavis, would like to speak to you now." Mr. P waved and left the podium, giving it over to the other band director.

Dr. Mavis, the other guy, came up and started talking. Some of what he said was the same as Mr. P, but mostly he rambled on about the jazz band and how great that was and how you really should join jazz band because it was awesome and would get you so far. I rolled my eyes at that. I was an oboist, what did I have with jazz band? I saw Iris do the same-she was never that big on jazz band, either. "And," Dr. Mavis continued. "There's the subject of lessons. Soon I will have a lesson schedule out, and you will come whenever your group is designated to have lessons. Lessons are a big part of your grade, and if you come to lessons every week and do well, then that'll help your grade, even if all you do in band is sit around and talk with your friends. Well, if you do that in band, you'll probably get a C for class participation. But if you come to lessons every week, hey, you might get a B for the overall grade! That's really all there is to it. Class participation and lessons. Welcome to concert band." And Dr. Mavis left.

Wait, what was going on here? In middle school band, no one cared whether you played or not, or how good you were. All that mattered was that you played during the concert, regardless of your skill. And in middle school, if you came to one lesson in the entire year, Mr. Jameson would automatically give you an A in lessons. And if you came to the concerts, you'd get an A in band. Here, it seemed like they were actually serious. Like, band meant something here, your playing meant something here. That I wasn't used to.

Oh well, I thought, leaning back against my chair and then turning to my friend Iris to talk about the latest book we read. I'd just play and do what I did in Mr. Jameson's band, and surely I'd get an A. After all, with all their talk, this probably wasn't very different. It never is.

Right?