Okay, so I would really love to know what you think of this, because right now I'm not sure where I exactly want to go with this. Like, I do...but I don't. So please review and tell me what you think.

Oh, I don't own the title 'Devotion & Desire.' That would be a sond by Bayside. [who I suggest you listen to. This song is awesome. Both on the Bayside album and on the Acoustic album :D

emilyanne.

Devotion & Desire

Chapter One:

To say the least, band camp at the stadium parking lot in ninety-some degree weather…well it wasn't exactly the ideal place where you wanted to spend your last few days of summer. And you didn't exactly want to be there doing run-throughs one after another because the tenors couldn't keep tempo…

"One more time, guys!" Mr. Wilson, the high school band director, yelled from his spot in the stands where he was watching his band.

They groaned and trudged back to their beginning set. It's not that the Marching Zephyr Band was lazy or anything…they worked more than any band in their area to keep their state champion title. But doing more than two run-throughs was like a slow painful death.

Madison got up from the ground and turned to Jenni, one of her fellow guard members. "This is such bull…make the percussion stay late, don't effing punish us all just because the tenors can't keep a tempo!" She said as she put down her flag and picked up her sabre from the ten yard-line.

"Well, I mean…what are we going to do? Protest?" Jenni said before she ran do go get her rifle for the beginning number.

"To the ready!" Mr. Wilson yelled once more. Madison shook her head just walked back to her spot slowly…making half of the band watched.

She reached her set and hit her beginning pose with the rest of the weapon line.

"Mad…you do know that you have your sabre and not your rifle right?" Nikki, a second-year junior told her.

Madison shrugged and began to chasse as the music started.

They band reached the second number…and then realized that Mr. Wilson had stormed down the stands and towards them. He went over to the drum major, Crystal Martin, and instructed her to stop them, which she did.

Mr. Wilson got onto the podium and scratched his head…he was frustrated. He began to speak…but stopped. Then he started again. "What more do I have to do for you guys? You do realize it's the last day of band camp, you start school tomorrow, and the first football game is four days away? Give me the whole 'I'm tired' excuse. Guess what? We're all tired. I'm tired. The marching staff is tired. The rest of the staff is tired too." He stopped and motioned for us all to get up to the podium so he could talk to us more in depth.

Madison walked over towards Nate, a tenor player whom she was interested in and he was interested in her…but everyone knows what drama comes with band relationships, especially a guard/percussion match. They sat down in front of the timpani's with Jenni.

"I just don't know what else do to. I'm doing my job…this unit can only be great if you guys choose for it to be. That means working on tempo at home, guard members practice before or after they come here and at home, instrumentalists working on their music when they have a chance. All I know is that is if things are going to continue this way…there is no way I'm putting you out on that field on Friday, I don't care that it's the group we barely beat last year, if anything that's a better reason to keep you off the field. Practice is six-nine tomorrow. Come prepared. And remember, it's easy to be good, but to be great is a…"

"Choice…" The band mumbled in response.

Mr. Wilson shook his head. "That's my point. Go ahead and get home now."

They got up, and without bothering to talk to anyone, Madison picked up her rifle and threw it and her saber to her flag bag not really caring if anyone was walking in the area. After all, how hard is it really to avoid flying objects like that in the air.

"Mad, don't be like that," Jenni said laying her stuff by her bag that was sitting next to Madison's. "There's nothing you can do…this is how practice is every year." Jenni uncapped her bottle of water and offered a sip to Madison.

Madison shook her head no and picked up her equipment bag and her bag that held all of her other things (mainly electrical tape, past indoor drill sheets, her current 'dot' book and pencil, and her performance makeup, along with other miscellaneous objects.) And started to walk back to the high school by herself.

Nate looked at Jenni confused, and ran after her…but ran back and picked up his drum sticks. "Madi! Wait!"

Madison didn't bother to turn around…and kept on walking…unconsciously slowing her pace for him to catch up. Not that he needed for her slow down, he was in great shape (having to run numerous laps around the field for getting in trouble helped.)

"You didn't wait," He said, taking her equipment bag from her.

"You caught up, didn't you?" Madison said, still not looking at him.

"That's not the point, Madi. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's wrong! I'm so sick of having to do things twenty billion times because everyone else is messing up. And then nobody says something to and instrumental section when they mess up, no, they get praised for what they did right. It makes me mad…beyond mad, how the guard gets in trouble for the littlest stuff, and we get no credit for the hard work we put into it…" Madison stopped walking and looked at Nate. "Nate…I didn't mean that. I love band, this is how it works every year. Why am I getting so frustrated now?"

"It's the end of band camp, everyone's sick of it…you just show you're tiredness differently. Just think, our first football game is on Friday, it'll be great. And then we start competitions. Once you get onto that field in front of everyone…all of these feelings will go away." Nate said taking her other bag and handing her his drumsticks.

"Yeah…I guess you're right. I just…ugh! Can we go home? I just want to collapse in your car or something…"

Nate laughed. "You want…to collapse in my car. You make it seem like we just had a five hour practice and did nothing but run-throughs."

Madison stared at him. "Uh, Nate…we did just have a five hour practice full of run-throughs…I should be allowed to collapse. What? Don't you want me passing out in your car?"

"Today's practice wasn't all that hard, Madi, you're over exaggerating it." Nate said looking straight at her, as Jenni walked up to them.

Madison glared at Nate and looked over at Jenni before she turned and once again headed towards the high school.

Nate's step-brother, Mark, who was also a member of their staff, came up behind them. "What's up with Madison today? She's normally not this much of a drama queen."

Nate looked at Mark and rolled his eyes. "I think we all know that…she's frustrated…did she say anything else to you, Jenni?"

Jenni shook her head. "Something about the tenors not being able to keep tempo…but that was nothing important."

"Real funny, Jenni," Nate told her. And then ran up to Madison. "What did I do?"

"You shouldn't even have to ask me that, Nate. We just had a conversation about this. Sometimes…it seems like you don't even care about what I have to say. But no, we're back to this whole not getting respect thing…and I didn't even expect it from you."

"Madi, I was kidding. You know that…or you should."

"Yeah…sure. Look," She turned to look at him. "Can we just go home now?"

"If that's what you want," Nate said looking at her. By that time Jenni had caught up and they continued to their cars.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow…at school, yuck," Jenni said getting into her car.

"Don't remind me," Madison mumbled as she opened the passenger door of Nate's car as he put her bags into the back of his car.

"Just think…me and you have two years left…Jenni just gets to be lucky and have one. It's better than being a new freshman." Nate laughed.

"Yeah…that really helped," Madison rolled her eyes and smiled at Jenni. "Tomorrow. Me, you, band room. Okay?" Jenni nodded her head and left with a wave.

Nate made a gasping noise. "And what about me? You're going to leave me in the dust?" He said dramatically.

"Silly, you're taking me to school, remember?" She shook her head once again. "It's getting late. Get me home."

"Yes sir…I mean mam."

"Haha. You think you're funny don't you…just wait." Madison closed the door and put her seatbelt on as Nate climbed in.

"I am funny, you just don't realize it yet, Mads."

"Uhh…whatever you say Nate."