The fluorescent lights of the band room buzzed, but they were no match for the chaotic symphony of tuning instruments and teenage chatter.

At the front of the room, Mr. Davis tapped his baton against his music stand to get everyone’s attention.

Alright, quiet down. As you know, our next project is a duo cover. You'll be choosing a song, arranging it, and performing it together.

Guest shrank a little lower in his plastic chair, clutching his sheet music like a shield. He hated project days. His social anxiety usually meant he ended up being the awkward third wheel in a group, or worse, left to whatever random person didn't have a partner. Guest knew he could sing, Mr. Davis had overheard him practicing alone in the auditorium once and hadn't stopped badgering him since to join the choir, but the thought of performing in front of people made his chest tighten.

I've already assigned the pairings to push you out of your comfort zones,

Mr. Davis announced, scanning the room.

First up, Zane and August.

August felt his heart skip a beat.

A few rows over, Zane leaned back in his chair, a classic black electric guitar resting across his lap. With his sweeping dark hair, chipped black nail polish, and band tee, he definitely looked the part of the school's resident emo kid. But unlike the stereotype, Zane wasn't quiet or brooding. He was fiercely passionate, loud about his music, and didn't care what anyone thought of him.