Note: Drum majors are the conductors of the band (and they have shoulder problems lmao). Section leaders are just sub leaders. They are the head of each instrument (trumpets, flutes, blah blah).

Idk, I kinda like Chloe as someone misunderstood. It's funny and hilarious, and I portrayed her as myself. (If you see me—short Asian girl with glasses—run.)

Also, Nooroo is a punk (make it happen guys.)

We need more guard moments tbh


Chloe was a basic bitch. Even she would admit that. But Sabrina would describe her as passionate and lonely, always eager to make friends through bullying. That's how they became friends, after all. Wow, she was a bitch.

So when the color guard squad huddled up beside a trash can ("Hey Nooroo, that's you," Chloe said without a muscle twitching), the teasing began. They threw meaningless insults at each other, though most of the time, Chloe and Aurore were behind the trigger with Nooroo and poor Pierre as their targets.

But the captain quickly adapted to her personality, as did sensitive and hesitant Pierre. On the other hand, Aurore was like Chloe's long-lost sister. But in general, Chloe's closest friends (Nooroo, Pierre, Aurore, and Sabrina) learned to accept her while the others were still afraid of getting in her way.

"Ugh, why do we have to sit by a garbage can?" Aurore complained, pinching her nose and fanning her face. Her legs were tucked under one side of her body as she made sure to keep her sundress down. She was picking at her sandwich, a frown in place.

"Yeah, Nooroo, get outta here," Chloe said instantly, shoving the boy in the back from behind.

Chloe was still standing, her hands leaning on Nooroo's shoulders and pushing him forward. He tried to shake her off, but she came back to nag him anyway. He gave up soon after, placing his attention back on his lunch and ignoring the lurches forced by Chloe.

"Chloe, you're a bitch," Nooroo commented, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his purple-dyed scruff on the top of his head. He munched into his sandwich, unaware of the fact that Aurore had stood up and was holding a cooler of melted ice with Chloe

Pierre looked between Nooroo and the two girls, debating whether or not to tell him. He shrugged, leaving him be. This was their way of bonding.

The two blondes dumped all the water on Nooroo's head, cackling with their manicured hands clutching their stomachs. And unfortunately for the quiet man guard, he got soaked through, too.

"CHLOE!" Nooroo shrieked, dropping his now-soggy lunch in its plastic bag to slick back his wet hair. He was shivering, water dripping down his chin and seeping into his shorts. He groaned, frowning.

Sabrina was recording, the video shaking since she was stifling her snickering.

"Aww, whatcha gonna do about it?" Chloe taunted with an honest smile pinned on her lips. She was bouncing in anticipation, waiting to get water dumped on her or for—

A slab of turkey and bits lettuce plastered stickily onto her cheeks.

Chloe's snickering paused, a face of disgust showing after the sandwich slipped off her sweaty face. Her sunglasses perched on the crown of her head had fallen onto the grass, the darkened lens covered in mayonnaise.

Aurore squawked when cucumber and mayonnaise splattered on her dress. She drew in a long and very audible gasp as her mouth formed an o. Her fingers were fanned out, looking much like the claws of an eagle. She looked down at her dress, then at Nooroo.

"You threw a sandwich at me," Chloe said.

And a bit late, Pierre threw a piece of apple at her, aiming for her face, but it fell into her tank top instead.

"OH MY GOD!" she yelled while laughing, reaching down to withdraw the apple slice. The blond threw it at Nooroo; it landed snuggly in his thick hair.

Soon enough, Sabrina burst out laughing, enjoying the moment. And although no one paid her any attention (except for the other guards, who threw concerned looks in her direction), she didn't care. As long as Chloe was truly happy with other people, Sabrina was fine.

"Ew, don't throw it at me! It touched you!" Nooroo said, shaking his head. It flew out and disappeared into the grass.

"Excuse me?" The blond picked up her sunglasses and slid it on after rubbing the mayo on a leaf. "People are dying to obtain my dripping good looks." She flicked her high ponytail out of her face, harrumphing.

"Yeah, sure," Pierre quietly drawled sarcastically.

Sabrine snickered. "You're absolutely beautiful, Chlo," she reassured.

Sabrina's eyes enviously took in her slim, tan legs, her proportionate curves covered by denim shorts and a flowing tank top, and her face, which was often hidden behind layers of makeup on regular school days.

Chloe froze. Her eyes widened and a blush settled on her cheeks. She lifted the glasses, peering at her female friend below the rims. "R-really?"

The small group of friends was staring at her, eyes honest and smiles wide. They nodded.

"Aw, thanks gu—"

"Just kidding, you're ugly," added Nooroo as he threw another piece of turkey at her. She pouted but smiled when the strip of meat stuck to her kneecap. Then she giggled when Pierre shyly pinned carrots and celery into her short pants' pockets.

Unbeknownst to them, Sabrina snapped a shot. She turned her back to the group, admiring it: Chloe was smiling genuinely as Pierre kneeled diagonally in front of her, sneaking the vegetables in her pocket. Nooroo was laughing with his eyes closed, hands mid-slap against his thighs. Aurore was giggling behind her hands, her dress stained with thick sauce of mayo.

She smiled, saving and setting it as the group chat's icon.

:..:

"So? Soo?" Alya drawled, watching as her two friends walked together. She waved and smiled as Kim and Alix went past them, high-fiving Alix and avoiding Kim's. Kim put on a hurt expression, a hand pressed flat against his chest as he mock-sobbed in her direction.

Marinette sat next to Alya, Adrien finding his place between the bluish-haired girl and Nino. She pulled out a plastic container and placed a California roll in her mouth, offering the container to her four friends. Adrien and Nino took one, Alya didn't.

"We actually got it!" she squealed after swallowing, bouncing in her spot. Adrien was grinning next to her, forking some fancy leaves into his mouth.

"Woah! Congrats, dude!" Nino exclaimed, bumping fists with him and high-fiving Marinette.

"Good job, girl! Mommy is so proud of you," she said, hugging her and lightly shoving the new male drum major on his arm.

Adrien half-embraced Marinette and shook her lightly, rubbing his fingers into her bicep. (He could feel the muscles twitch under the fabric and tried to act as if he hadn't felt anything.) "We made it, Mari," he said with a blinding smile.

She blushed and nodded, too pumped to stammer. "I know! We did it!" She gasped when something dawned on her. "Holy cow, we beat Kim and Alix! Those workaholic, competitive beasts!"

"Yeah!" He laughed and pulled back. He found it cute when she caught herself instead of saying some other profanity he knew she kept hidden under her sleeve.

"Now we get to see each other every day at school!" she squealed, but when she remembered that he was within hearing range, her face lit up.

"Oh my God," Alya gasped, pulling her fingertips over her lips. "School starts next week," she whimpered, leaning her head against Marinette's shoulder. The new drum major pouted with her, placing her head atop Alya's.

"Dude," Nino said with his mouth full, sounding offended, "you just ruined band camp." He pointed his fork at the two girls, pasta hanging from it.

"Wait, did the schedules come out, yet?" Mari asked, sitting up and pushing Alya back into her own personal bubble.

The ombre-haired teen sulked, narrowed eyes focused on Marinette and Adrien. "If I had my phone, I would be able to check." She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting her chin in the air.

"But we have ours," Adrien said, shoveling his device from his back pocket of his shorts, lifting it up. A sadistic smile formed as he said, "I'll check for you."

Marinette chuckled, bumping shoulders against Adrien and Alya's as she also took out her device. Alya made noises of disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she stared at her friends.

Marinette caught her looking.

"You'll catch flies, honey," Marinette cooed, placing an index finger under Alya's chin and closing her mouth. Then she went back on her phone, eyes brightening at something. "Ooh, they did upload our schedules!"

Alya was on the verge of fainting. She suddenly felt dizzy and slumped forward, her forehead touching the grass.

"Al, bugs will get into your hair," Nino warned.

She shot up, a glare fixed on him. "Don't you sass me."

He looked utterly confused. With his brows raised and mouth contorted into a bewildered pout, he sputtered, "W-what? H-how is that—I wasn't even—"

"Ah, ah, ah!" She shook her finger at him, rocking onto her knees to invade his space. "I don't like that attitude of yours, Nin."

"Please don't abuse my name," he whimpered, backing away from her.

To spite him, Alya said his new nickname in that obnoxious, seven-year old voice.

Meanwhile, Adrien and Marinette were leaning into each other, staring at screens and comparing classes.

"Hey, I have Chinese with you," Marinette mumbled, still focused on his schedule. She had to memorize it so that she could find different routes to walk past him in the halls. No, it's not considered stalker-ish. She's just making sure he gets to class safely. Yeah.

"And as usual, we have band together," he said with a grin.

He, too, was peering at hers, eyes skimming over her personal information like her real name (Marinette Huiqing Dupain-Cheng) and her birthdate, which was September 26th. Adrien tried prying his curious eyes from her school picture, but it was just too pretty to be ignored.

Her hair had been let down for the event of picture day. It was curled into ringlets, framing her face and making her painted lips look bigger as she smiled. Her amazing, sparkling eyes were popping out due to the professionally applied mascara and eyeshadow, her eyebrows filled in. He scanned her profile and saw the top of chest, seeing a simple blouse.

He was pulled from his thoughts when she looked up, her face close but her cheeks still pale. A smirk was nestled comfortably on her lips.

"Why don't you tell me something I don't know, Chat?" Her tongue poked out, a wink sending him to heaven.

His eyebrows rose and gave her a challenging look. "Okay, fine, My Lady." He leaned in, attempting to take a closer look at her phone. He heard her breath hitch in her throat. "Aha!" He leaned back swiftly, a finger pointed in the air.

He stared at Marinette, whose cheeks finally tinted. "Well?"

"We have Physics together," he said, snatching her pink-encased phone and held it close to his. "See? See?" He shoved the devices in her face, pushing her back inadvertently.

She steered farther from the technology that was pressed against her face. "Stop, stop," she laughed, "I can't even read it."

He pulled back and watched her brows furrow as her eyes flickered over the text. Then she grinned at him.

"Good job, Kitty." She patted his head. ". . . You never really explained why you're referred to as a cat," she pondered aloud.

"Well," he started, scratching the spot her fingers touched, "when I used to do the obstacle course at the gym, I finished in record time because of my quick reflexes."

"But things aren't be thrown at you in the jungle gym," she argued with a knowing smirk.

He scoffed, holding up a sassy finger and saying, "First, it's called an obstacle course, not a jungle gym, and second, there are some things that are considered challenging even for adults."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say."

"I'll prove it to you," he said.

"How?"

"I'll bring you there."

They blushed.

"F-fine. Sunday at eleven in the morning," she stammered, keeping her chin up despite her red face. He visibly perked up, and at that, she raised a finger. "But—"

His back slackened.

"—we have to bring Alya and Nino." She backed away from him and continued on with her lunch, leaving Adrien smiling to himself.

:..:

It was almost four in the afternoon, but Armand wasn't letting up even if dismissal was thirty minutes away. He constantly demanded for re-runs of their new drill, yelling at those who stepped on their left foot on an even count and roasting those who failed to keep up. Theo tried calming him down but to no avail. Armand was strict, keeping the marchers from taking another water break and forcing them to work in the summer heat of Paris.

And while Armand was currently pestering Ivan for being too slow, Marinette found herself in front of Alya, who was only two steps to her back left.

"Psst, Mari," Alya whispered, swinging her clarinet lazily. The bell smacked her in the arm.

Marinette turned to her, sweat plastering her stray hairs to her forehead. "What?"

"My hair tie broke." She lifted the string and flung at her. Marinette slapped it away. "Do you have another one?"

The first clarinet player groaned, taking apart one pigtail and handing it to her. "Don't break it. That's your grandchild you're holding," she warned, pulling off her other pigtail with no mercy. She tucked her instrument between her bare thighs as she pulled her hair into another sloppy bun, the one that Adrien favored the most.

"What?" Alya asked, bringing her long hair into a high ponytail. Her glasses slid down her nose because of the sweat and oil combined. She nudged it up with her shoulder. "Grandchildren?" she muttered.

"Those hair ties are my babies," Marinette explained, facing front. She had her hand saluted over her eyes, blocking the sunlight from blinding her. "I wish I brought my sunglasses," she murmured.

"Practice is almost over. Chill."

Someone poked Marinette on her elbow. It was Mylene this time.

"Sorry, Marinette," the piccolo player said to her, fidgeting under the taller girl's gaze, "d-do you have a hair tie?" Although Mylene had her headband keeping her dreadlocks back, it was still long enough to get everywhere in its frizzy state.

And with those words said, Marinette's worst fear had come true.

"Yeah, this is my last one," Marinette said, taking apart her bun mercilessly. Mylene started to protest, but she reassured her that she didn't need it. (It was a lie. Marinette was dying under her scorching hot hair. She could fry an egg over her head.)

Now she was facing the sun head-on, suffering miserably under her thick, obsidian mane.

Then someone else nudged her left knee with scalding metal. She almost yelped but bit on her tongue before Armand can yell through his megaphone: "No talking or else we're staying here until 5!" She looked up on the podium and saw him spitting insults at Ivan, who was hiding in the shadow of his sousaphone.

She turned around, a glare already in place. But it was just Adrien, who was holding out his Ray-Ban sunglasses to her.

He was just as sweaty as the other marchers, his golden bangs gelled back with sweat, making him look even more attractive (if it was even possible). His shirt was higher up on his hips at the back while one hand was pulling at the hem of the front, flapping humid air up his toned abs and chest.

She shook her head immediately, pupils wide. "No, no, I can't take it. It's okay, really." Why was she lying so much today? She was too nice; that's why.

But he shook his head, tossing it to her and watching her fumble to catch it. He grinned. "You need it more than I do," he said, scanning her image.

She was perspiring immensely due to her black hair, which was let down because of snagging girls who didn't come prepared for the heat. The color of her shiny locks heated up her scalp much faster than the blonds, and the length of it didn't help either. It was long enough to cover the back of her neck, making her soak through the fabric of her Thing 1 tank top.

Her short-shorts did her justice, though, at the very least. It covered as little as possible, allowing her legs to breathe in the hot and sticky air of the park. But it also enabled lingering eyes to take in every muscle and mole on her toned legs.

Adrien bit his lip, suddenly very nervous.

His eyes caught the motion of her shooting him a thumbs-up. He pulled his lips into a smile.

She looked painfully adorable with his glasses covering half of her face. His glasses, the one he claimed was his precious child that no one was to ever touch, on her face. It looked like it belonged there, with its blue arms and its black lens hugging her face.

I can always buy a new pair, he thought, sucking on his bottom lip.

Someone clapped six rhythmic beats, the command of attention forcing everyone into position.

"Why are you talking?" Mme Mendeleiev screeched through the megaphone. The whole marching band cringed to the loud, high-pitched squeal of the device, passersby flinching to the unexpected noise. "You are all supposed to be in the same position as we left off! Color guard, flags up!"

Nooroo urged the other guard members to raise their flags to right shoulder, paying Pierre the most attention. He noticed the shorter boy having trouble keeping the pole that was almost twice the size of him vertical, so he sent some encouraging words to his cousin.

"Saxes," Armand joined in, "I don't want to see dangling instruments."

Adrien, Plagg, Nino, and many others brought up their saxophones, wincing as the neck straps scraped against their newly burnt skin.

"Trumpets, I don't see your horns up!"

Alix, Max, Julian, and others moaned, heaving their arms up and pointing their warm trumpets to the sky. Their arm muscles were too sore to maintain that position.

"Clarinets, those aren't to be swung around."

Tikki's glare at Alya and Marinette made them stop. The girls looked guiltily at her before bringing their mouthpieces to their lips. Jean shook his head, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

"Trombones, stop playing with the slides."

Kim stopped jabbing Michael and held up his trombone, keeping it directed to the horizon. Michael followed suit.

"I didn't say 'at ease,' flutes."

Lila, Rose, Juleka, and Nathanael groaned and rolled their shoulder muscles, bringing the warm and damp metal to their lower lip. Lila purposefully lifted her shirt up to her stomach, fanning her skin while staring at Adrien, but the blond was already in position and didn't see.

"Percussion!" Manon, Wayzz, Takkar, and Amelia startled. "I didn't say to take off the braces! Pit, stop playing with the sticks!"

Members of the pit located at the base of the stand stopped twirling the wooden sticks in their hands.

"Good!" Armand yelled. "Now take it back to the part where—WAIT!" He cut himself off and stood straighter. His stony orbs scanned the crowd. "Where are my drums majors?!" he screamed.

Marinette and Adrien stared wide-eyed at each other before sprinting towards him at the same time. He couldn't help but keep his eyes linger on his bobbing sunglasses perched on her nose.

"He said he'd conduct, didn't he?" Adrien hissed to her.

"Yeah, but I don't know what's going on. Oh my Lord, we're so fucked," she whispered. He smiled at the oxymoron.

"I'm scared now," he said.

Armand glowered at them as they stopped by the base. "I just realized that I've been leading the marching band while you should have been in my place."

"But sir—"

Adrien was interrupted with a raised hand. "I don't want to hear it."

"M D'Argencourt," Marinette tried this time.

He spoke over her, addressing the whole band, "Due to the drum majors—"

Theo suddenly appeared behind him and tapped his shoulders, effectively cutting him off. The main director of the band stopped his spiel, blinking as Theo frantically whispered something behind his hands.

"Oh," Armand said.

"Yes," the co-director said, stepping off the podium.

"Oh!" M D'Argencourt laughed on his own, the rare, alien sound striking the thick air. He stopped abruptly (they all knew it was fake, anyway) and reset his facial features, which had been set on its default mode: angry. This time, he looked sheepish. "Ahh, I'm sorry, Mlle Marinette, M Adrien. It seems that I have made a mistake." He bowed.

They looked at each other with disgusted faces, then back at the director.

"You may go back to your spots. I forgot I told you that I'd be conducting for the first day."

"It's okay, M D'Argencourt," Adrien said, tugging on Marinette's fingers to pull her back. "Hurry," he whispered in her ear, "I can't stand being in his presence anymore."

She nodded and sprinted back to her spot, looking at Alya as a landmarker. She exhaled her nervousness, her cheeks puffing out, and brought her clarinet back up to her lips.

Adrien panted next to her, leaning on his knees for a few seconds before lifting his tenor up and parallel to his body.

They shared one last look, complete with exhausted smiles.

Day 1 of Band Camp: 68.18% completed.
Estimated time remaining: 3 hours and 30 minutes.
Do not shut down body.


End Notes: Guys guys guys gusyug syuuys guyus guys guess what!? I realized that there is minimal plot :T There's only a few things going on. (Watch out for felix wink wonk.) Why didn't I think this thru. Was this a mistake.

No. It's difficult but I wanna get it out of me.

Spoiler alert: they go to Disney World like my band did :3