Crispy rather enjoyed playing first chair. So much so, that she felt crestfallen when a week from the concert, Nick entered the band room… but then she felt guilty. His left arm, the one he used to play, was in a cast all the way up to the shoulder. After a moment with the director, he addressed the band.
"Sorry guys, but I can't play anymore." He gestured towards his arm. "I won't be coming back." He retrieved his instrument from the instrument room and gave it to Crispy. "I'm counting on you to take care of her." He said with a significant look. Nick left the band to murmur loudly across the room at each other. Mr. G called the class to order and resumed practice.
Crispy rushed out of the band room after practice, not even stopping to put Nick's instrument away. She knew she had to find him as soon as she saw "The Phantom of the Band Room is here," written in permanent marker on the bell.
"I knew you'd come." Nick said. He was leaning against a large oak tree. Just a week ago he had done the same thing at a sectional as he taunted Crispy about her playing. "No one believes you about the phantom. I didn't up till now, but then again, we were never really friends were we?"
"That's putting it lightly." Nick kicked an apple that some passerby had carelessly dropped. "You don't have to tell me, Nick."
"Yes! I do! You must know. The police have got it all wrong. I was the only one there. All the lights were off. I tried flipping the lightswitch, but they wouldn't come on. They grabbed me from behind, pinned me against the wall. They had the drumline's hammer… and then…"
"Your arm."
"Yeah. The doctors didn't even bother to count how many places it was broken in, it was so shattered."
"surely you could play again, though."
"Perhaps, but I won't. The Phantom, she told me…"
"SHE!" Crispy looked up at the tree whenre the exclamation had come from. There sat Brandon, camera in hand, grinning nervously. Nick shuffled his feet a moment.
"I… uh… think I'll go… You will catch her, won't you?"
Crispy nodded. As soon as Nick was out of earshot, she rounded on Brandon. "What are you doing?" she asked with her signature quiet anger.
"Making a documentary. I'm calling it, 'The Phantom Unmasked: When Fiction Becomes Reality'"
"That's just lovely. So you're stalking his victims are you?"
"You, actually. He's right, you know. The police will never catch him… her. You will. I have a knack for knowing these things."
"Crazy. You scared my first real clue away with your stupid camera."
"Listen, I'll make a deal with you. A fair trade I think."
"What kind of trade?"
"Footage of our lady at work in exchange for the right to make my movie."
Crispy searched his face for some sign of a lie. His breathing was steady. He kept eye contact…
"Well, what's your plan?"
"This camera has a motion activate mode. All you have to do is hide it, and when the Phantom comes, it will turn on and capture her every move."
"Well help me hide the camera then." She turned back to the band room. "But no more scaring away the clues!"
"How could I refuse?"