Chapter 43: Warbler Camp, Part One

SEBASTIAN

After spending the last eight weeks doing little other than working at the ice cream place and wallowing in self-pity as he created a semi-permanent Sebastian-sized indentation on the couch as he waited for his foot to heal itself, Seb was ready to move on to greener pastures. He craved something exciting and fun– something that would be a welcome change of pace for his otherwise bland summer.

Enter Warbler Camp.

The camp, which was held at the end of every summer, was actually called the Midwestern Prep School Show Choir Development Camp, and consisted of three private schools in the area, but to members of The Warblers, it was colloquially known as just 'Warbler Camp'.

The main objective of the camp was to introduce the world of competitive high school show choir to the next generation, encourage team building, and to prepare for the upcoming school year's auditions and competition season. The senior members of The Warblers had the opportunity to train hopefuls and junior members– mostly incoming freshmen and sophomores who were planning to audition for the group during the first week of classes next month– to follow in their footsteps someday. Every year they also had a handful of legacy guys– kids whose dads, brothers, and even grandfathers had been Warblers at some point during the acapella group's extensive history– who were hoping to carry on the family name by competing with the group. For many, Warbler Camp was the highlight of the summer.

The Dalton Academy Warblers were joined each year by The Duly Noted, the group hailing from the St. Thomas School for Boys in Ann Arbor, as well as The Waffletoots from Ziegler Prep in Cincinnati. Each year, the three schools take turns hosting the camp for the other two schools, their veteran members, and their young hopeful ingénues. This year was Dalton's turn to host.

The groups would spend Friday and Saturday of the three-day camp learning choreography, developing everyone's strengths and weaknesses, and practicing their smooth harmonies. They also took time to vote on council members who would represent the group for the year ahead. Camp consisted of long days full of tedious work, all leading up to the big showdown on Sunday. After a quick warm-up in the morning came the camp-wide competition, which was judged by professional show choir experts. Not only would the winner get bragging rights for the year, but also tips for ways to improve ahead of the upcoming season and a valuable insight into what the judges would be looking for. Sebastian wasn't entirely sure how this wasn't technically illegal, but apparently, it was some sort of loophole in the extensive show choir handbook (David, The Warblers' team historian, had double-checked.), so Seb tried not to feel too guilty about it. Too much was on the line to worry about cheating the system– being crowned the winner of camp would provide the winning school with a huge advantage. After all, it was most of the reason why the camp's price tag was so ostentatiously lofty.

Well, that, and all of the other extracurricular activities they got to take advantage of for the weekend.

When they weren't practicing vocals, choreo, and technique, the campers were allowed full reign of the school's cushy amenities, such as access to the gym and weight room, swimming pool, library, movie theater room, and squash courts. They were encouraged to take advantage of all that the Dalton Academy campus had to offer. The prep school guys worked hard, yes, but they knew how to play hard, too.

The price per individual to attend this camp would have probably seemed ludicrous to anyone not accustomed to the steep and often outrageous tuition demanded by private schools. The camp placed itself far outside of what was allotted for the typical public school's arts budget– aside from, maybe, Carmel High's Vocal Adrenaline, whose budget was bolstered by their generous booster club.

Despite how fun and carefree it could be, Warbler Camp was very important– especially to Sebastian, who was the first junior to receive the prestigious title of Head Warbler in the acapella group's one hundred and ninety-six year history. He didn't earn this position by being a pushover. He'd earned it by dedicating himself to the success of the team. And as someone who'd just had a front row seat to his brother and the New Directions' win at Nationals, Sebastian was more inspired than ever. Nationals were being held in Los Angeles this year, and he wanted more than anything to make it there. Scratch that, he didn't just want to make it there, Sebastian wanted to win. (It was a shame that this camp was so financially inaccessible to McKinley. Seb would have loved to compete against the New Directions in a competitive-yet-friendly environment like this one, ahead of when it really mattered.) That was why he was ready to put in the necessary work this week at Warbler Camp. Not to be dramatic, but these first days of camp were important– they set the tone for their whole season ahead, and Sebastian had his sights set on greatness. He just hoped that everyone else would be along for the ride.

After the events of Artie's wrap party, Seb was still working on pushing away the thoughts of feeling forgotten about and unwanted in a room of so many people. He knew that was largely in part thanks to the way that his actions last year had managed to burn some bridges between himself at the New Directions. Though Sebastian liked to think that he'd started the rebuilding process there, he was still trying to work his way back into good graces with all of them, and it was taking much longer than he'd expected. Despite his best efforts, Sebastian still kind of felt like an outsider when he was around them. He could only hope that being reunited with his Warbler brothers would adequately fill the gaping hole in his life that had only been growing bigger throughout the summer. He'd seen a few of his Dalton friends once or twice just after school let out, before they'd all gone their separate ways. As for the rest of The Warblers, Seb hadn't seen any of them since his dad's wedding, and he was looking forward to catching up with everyone. As strange as it was to admit– especially for someone who tended to only worry about taking care of himself– he'd missed his friends.

All of the excitement caused him to wake up surprisingly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Friday, despite having an early wake up call of five-thirty in the morning. It was still chilly and dewy outside when Sebastian climbed into the driver's seat of his Range Rover– with a supersized travel mug of strong black coffee in hand– and set off on his hour-and-a-half long commute. Sebastian couldn't say that he'd missed this drive quite as much as he had missed his friends.

The length of his drive that morning meant that, while he didn't arrive late, Sebastian wasn't early by any means. The sight of the school's looming wrought iron gate as he pulled onto campus made Sebastian smile. He was home at last.

Sebastian had only just parked his car and stepped outside, preparing to head off toward where he'd spotted Trent, Nick, and Jeff hanging out over by one of the concrete lion statues by the school's front entrance, when he was ambushed by a younger guy that he didn't recognize who was wearing a Dalton Academy uniform.

"Sebastian Smythe?"

Seb gave the guy a once-over and adjusted the way that his backpack was slung over one shoulder. At first glance, the guy standing before him was debonair and handsome, a little bit shorter than Sebastian, but not by much. He had the same coiffed light brown hair that Sebastian did, and if Sebastian were to harbor a guess, he'd say that the hair probably added an inch or two to his height.

Sebastian nodded.

"Hunter Clarington," the boy said, sticking his hand out for Sebastian to shake. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Are you a freshman? I don't think I've seen you around before," Seb asked him, more to be polite than of any actual interest on Sebastian's end.

"Sophomore," Hunter corrected, straightening his tie. "I'm a transfer student. I was at a boarding school in Colorado last year– where I led my show choir team to a victory at our Regionals competition, by the way– but told my folks that I wanted to come carry on the family legacy by graduating while wearing the Dalton crest."

"Oh, you have family who went here?" Now Sebastian was a little more intrigued. "Were they Warblers?"

Hunter nodded. "Going all the way back to my grandfather. And you've probably heard of my dad. Peter Clarington? He was a Warbler back in the early eighties."

Sebastian tried to keep his face stoic to avoid showing that he was impressed to hear this. Hunter's dad was somewhat of a living Warblers legend. He was a member of the team during their glory days. If Seb wasn't mistaken, he was one of the few alumni who'd won four consecutive National titles during his time at The Academy. But, wait, if Peter Clarington was Hunter's father, then that meant his brother is…

"And my brother is–"

"Chip," Seb finished Hunter's sentence.

"Yeah! You know him?"

Sebastian nodded.

Chip Clarington had been the senior Head Warbler when back when Seb was a sophomore. He was as handsome as he was intimidating. All of the teenage boys who had been simultaneously going through their sexuality crises were even further confused by the way that their hearts had raced whenever Chip was near. Suffice it to say, Sebastian was intimately familiar with this Hunter kid's family tree.

"Yes, well, I plan to finish what my grandfather, father, and brother began at this school," Hunter told him. He was speaking in quite an overly confident fashion for someone who had yet to even try out for the team. "The Warblers will never lose to another public school team again, I can tell you that much."

Seb bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to look offended by that. The New Directions were serious competition, Seb knew that all too well. But he couldn't exactly fault Hunter for this way of thinking. After all, a year ago, he would have said the same thing. But things were different now.

Over Hunter's shoulder, Sebastian could see that the group that had gathered on the front lawn of Dalton Academy had grown substantially since he'd arrived. Members from all three of the participating schools had assembled and Sebastian guessed that it was nearly time to get the ball rolling. And, if he was being honest, he was kind of looking for a way out of this conversation. Hunter's premature cockiness was beginning to irritate him.

"I'm sorry, but if you'll excuse me," Sebastian said, effectively putting an end to their conversation. Hunter had intercepted him so fast that Sebastian hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello or catch up with his friends, which he had been looking forward to doing. "I need to get this thing started. It was nice talking to you."

Since The Warblers did not have a formal director of their own like most other show choir teams, the responsibility of addressing everyone and welcoming them to the school for the weekend fell onto the Head Warbler's shoulders.

"Sure, of course," Hunter replied, nodding. "I'm sure we'll have plenty more time to talk later on."

As Hunter struck up conversation with some of the team's junior members, Sebastian snuck off to the second floor of the school's main building. The Headmaster's office– which Sebastian, as a captain of one of the school's teams, had access to– had this great balcony overlooking where everyone was gathered as they caught up with old friends and got acquainted with new ones from the other groups. To Sebastian, it felt like the perfect spot for his welcome speech.

"Hello, everyone!" Sebastian called out, looking down on the sea of teenage boys, each wearing some variation of dress pants, shirt and tie, and a blazer in their school's colors. "My name is Sebastian Smythe, and I am this year's Head Warbler. On behalf of Dalton Academy and our team, we would like to welcome you all to the 2012 Midwestern Prep School Show Choir Development Camp!"

A cheer erupted from the crowd.

"We have so much in store for you all this weekend, and I know that I speak for all of The Warblers when I say that we are excited to get the chance to work with you before this show choir competition season gets started. Us prep school teams have to stick together."

Everyone below him nodded vigorously, and Sebastian tried to hold back a chuckle. For years, Carmel High had been a serious threat in the show choir world, and now the New Directions were working their way up into those conversations as well. They were the talk of the private school show choir world at the moment.

"For those of you who are new to camp, here's how it will work. For most of the time we are gathered here at the Academy this weekend, we will remain separate from one another, working on our individual routines and practicing. This is to ensure that everyone gets the privacy they need to develop their skills and routines. We will all come together for meals in the dining hall and fun time around campus each evening, and we will get the chance to compete in the end-of-camp showcase on the final day," Sebastian explained. "The Warblers have selected to use the auditorium as our practice space for the duration of the weekend."

Conveniently, the auditorium would also be the location of the competition on Sunday afternoon. Being that they had home field advantage, Sebastian knew that it would be foolish to give it up.

"The Duly Noted, you will be using the band room as your practice space, and, The Waffletoots, you have been assigned to the Senior Commons."

The Dalton Academy Senior Commons was a secluded area of the school that was typically used by seniors during study hall. It consisted of a library and study nooks overlooking a courtyard, and it also served as The Warblers' daily practice space– similarly to the way that the New Directions had their choir room. The band room was the least desirable space of the three, but it did come equipped with risers, if The Duly Noted decided to use them.

"If any issues arise, please feel free to contact me, but in the meantime, we are so glad to have you here and are looking forward to a wonderful camp experience," Sebastian finished.

Everyone cheered once more as Sebastian vacated the balcony and rejoined his team down below. Once the other two schools had gone off with their respective directors to start rehearsing in their assigned locations, The Warblers did the same, wasting no time before getting right down to business. Sebastian was joined by his fellow member of the Warbler Council, David, in leading the group in vocal warm-ups. Cody, a junior who was often featured in The Warblers' competition performances showing off his tumbling and tricks as a standout part of their choreography, led the team in dance warm-ups as well. Hunter impressed Sebastian with his ability to execute a flawless standing back tuck– so much so that Seb was now wondering if he should have spent the summer having Artie and Ella teach him how to flip.

"Okay, so here's how this is going to go," Sebastian announced to everyone once they were all warmed up. He hopped down from the stage and stood in front of the first row of audience seats so that he could be seen by everyone. "We need to determine individual strengths and weaknesses to know how everyone can fit into our team. Building a performance that plays to everyone's strengths is only the beginning of crafting a Nationals-ready routine. So, with that being said, we're going to split up into four groups by year. Each year will be responsible for working on a thirty-two bar cut of a song of their choosing. Determine who your key players are– your harmonists, your vocal percussionists, et cetera. We'll reconvene in an hour or so and show the other three groups what we've been working on. Sound good?"

Seb was met with a chorus of 'yes' and 'sounds good', and with that, the current Warblers and Warbler hopefuls dispersed into their assigned groups to choose a song to start working on. As the juniors and sophomores got straight to work, the incoming freshmen just looked lost, unsure of where to even begin. The seniors– figuring they'd earned the right– sat back and people watched, joining Sebastian in the audience.

"That Hunter Clarington seems like he's going to be trouble this year," David noted with a nod over to where the aforementioned newcomer had taken charge of his fellow sophomores.

"Yeah," Thad agreed. "Who does he think he is?"

"A third-gen Warbler," Sebastian answered simply, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched him from across the room. It didn't seem to matter that he wasn't a returning member of The Warblers with a secure spot on the team. He seemed to think he already had it in the bag. "His dad's Peter Clarington."

"Really?" Trent asked in disbelief. "The Nationals guy? He's, like, Warblers royalty."

"I know."

"Wait, so does that make Chip his brother?" Nick cut in. Sebastian nodded. "Damn, that's a hell of a legacy to live up to. Looks like he knows it, too."

Sebastian sighed. "Yup."

He'd yet to even hear Hunter sing, but if his confidence was any indication, he was probably just as good as his older brother, and his father and grandfather before him, too. Despite how good or not good Hunter turned out to be, Sebastian found his innate cockiness distasteful, which, he knew, was rich coming from him. He didn't know what it was, but he just didn't like the guy. He planned to keep a watchful eye on him for the rest of camp.

"I didn't expect there to be so many rookies here this year," Jeff said, changing the subject as all eyes turned to the fresh meat of clueless fourteen and fifteen-year-olds who were standing over on stage left.

It seemed as if a couple of the younger guys had taken charge– eager to show off what they could each do– while others appeared too terrified to do anything other than follow the others' lead. In their own way, every one of them was striving to make their mark on the older boys in order to secure a spot on the team come the fall.

In the past, Sebastian may have found these kids' naïvety and greenness hilarious, but from what Sebastian could tell so far, these Warbler wannabes weren't so bad. They weren't really kids, anyway– they were Ella's age, which was probably why he found himself feeling a surprising kinship toward them now.

That's not to say that he hadn't cared about the team's junior members in the past– of course, he had. He valued all that they brought to each performance in order to help the team do well at competitions. It was just that up until this point, Sebastian hadn't necessarily invested much thought into them as individual people with, you know… thoughts and feelings and dreams of their own. But being that Sebastian now had a younger sister their age, he seemed to understand and sympathize with them a little bit more. He knew how anxious Ella had been on her first day of Cheerios tryouts back in June. These guys were undoubtedly going through the same thing now. He felt for them.

For that reason, before he even really realized what he was doing, Sebastian had climbed onto the stage, setting off in the direction of the freshmen without another word to his friends.

"Hey," Sebastian greeted them, receiving wide-eyed stares from the Warbler hopefuls. "I just wanted to check in on you guys and see if you needed any help. Have you all decided on a song to sing yet?"

Sebastian had never been known for his patience, but this season he was trying to turn over a new leaf. He'd noticed them being a tad awkward and nervous around him, alerting him to the fact that his prestigious status and his reputation for being a bit of a jerk had preceded him. He could see that the younger guys didn't know what to make of this kind version of Sebastian Smythe. For a brief moment, he wondered if they thought it was some kind of hazing ritual or trap.

"Well, we've decided that the three of us are the harmonizers in the group, we've gotten that far," a shorter Asian guy said, gesturing to the baby-faced blonde and redhead beside him. "But we haven't got a song yet. I said we should go for something classic, a la The Beatles or Barbra, but Will wants to go the pop route."

"And you are?"

"Alexander Kim."

"Well, Alexander, The Warblers do typically stick to Top 40 hits these days," Sebastian told them. "Do you all know the words and beat of 'Teenage Dream'? That may be a good place to start."

The freshmen all exuberantly nodded. Sebastian crossed his arms and watched as Alexander counted them in. What they executed wasn't perfect by a long shot– it was pitchy, and Seb could tell that the vocalists were all eager to be heard over one another. But it was nothing Sebastian couldn't work with.

"Dial it down a few notches," was Seb's advice. "You're all doing too much. Not everybody can be the frontman, you need strong background vocalists, too."

"I have an idea," the particularly timid redhead said, raising his hand and stepping forward. "Why don't we have Alexander start singing lead, then on the third line, Will and I can join in and harmonize? I know we only have thirty-two bars and not a lot of time, but…"

Sebastian thought for a minute before nodding. It wasn't a bad idea at all. It was definitely worth a shot. "Sure," Seb replied. "What did you say your name was?"

"Oh, um, Teddy." The younger boy seemed flustered by being the subject of the Head Warbler's positive attention.

"Great idea, Teddy, thanks. Let's try it."

They tried Teddy's suggestion, and while they were no Blaine Anderson, it was certainly a good starting point– especially for this group of show choir newcomers.

"That was great!" Sebastian told them. "The harmonies were almost where they need to be, and the background vocals were great, too."

As he praised them, Sebastian watched as their faces lit up. It was much easier to come up with nice things to say than it was to come up with insults to spew, Sebastian was quickly realizing, and it didn't take much to make another person feel good about themselves.

"Let's run it again, but this time, Teddy, why don't you sing lead? Alexander, be conscious of your breath control, and, Will, try singing a little softer. Acapella is not about being heard above everyone else, it's about working together as a group. Try again."

Taking the time to connect with some of the younger guys was something he never would have thought– or particularly cared about– doing before, but encouraging the next generation of members was important to keeping the Warbler bloodline and legacy strong. After all, someone had to be able to lead the team after he was gone. Watson was a shoo-in for Head Warbler next year, but after he graduated, Sebastian knew it would be a blood bath.

Unlike the New Directions, The Warblers had a tendency to be cliquey (he really needed to stop comparing the two teams, but the more he hung out with– and began to grow fond of– the McKinley kids, the more difficult that task became). By stepping away from his pod of fellow seniors and spending a little more time with these new guys, Sebastian was surprised to find that maybe– and he'd never admit this out loud– those New Directions kids and their teacher-slash-director (who seemed far too overly invested in his students' lives, for Sebastian's taste) had gotten it right. As foreign a concept this was for the Dalton boys, maybe teamwork and becoming actual friends with all of your teammates really was the key to success. It seemed to pay off awfully well for the New Directions last season, after all. It was definitely something to consider.

Sebastian had the rookies run the section that they were working on a few more times for him and they took his corrections and suggestions for improvement with stride. When he felt that they were in a good place to keep working the harmonies on their own, Seb left them and hopped off the stage. Returning to the front row of the house seats, Sebastian found that his friends had watched the whole interaction and were now looking at him with their eyebrows raised.

"Well, fellas, I never thought I'd see the day," Nick laughed to the others.

Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows as he approached the group. "What?"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think Sebastian Smythe has gone soft!" he called, eliciting a chorus of laughs from their fellow seniors.

"That behavior's a far cry from the guy I had to convince to give Watson Price a spot on the team," David said with a knowing smile, causing Sebastian to roll his eyes. That was a moment he was not proud of, and any time he was reminded of it, he felt embarrassed to the point of feeling sick.

"How do you mean?" Sebastian played dumb.

"Spending so much time with the new kids," Thad chimed in. "I even thought I saw some smiles over there. So much for being the scary, menacing Head Warbler everyone's afraid of."

"You've changed," Jeff teased.

Sebastian just shrugged. He'd been afraid of receiving that accusation, but once faced with it, it didn't bother him so much. He didn't see what Artie would call 'positive character development' as a bad thing. All this time, he'd been worried that his friends may have changed during their jam-packed summers away and would return completely unrecognizable. But, now, Sebastian could see that maybe he was the one who'd changed. And it didn't feel as terrifying as he expected it would.