Distinguished. Proper. Neat and tidy.
That was how you were known at school. Little did they know......
You smiled, humming along to your earphones. You listened to a wide variety of things, ranging from old rock music to K- and J-pop. At the moment though you were infatuated with punk music. In fact you liked it so much you'd even started to dress that way.
You really liked the dress-style, it looked cool and rather good on you. Only thing was, you had no idea what your friends' reaction would be. Or anyone's reaction for that matter. Especially.....
So you'd taken to wearing your new clothes whenever you came home. Parading about in them, you sang loudly to yourself, a cheeky smile adorning your face.
The clouds, plants and birds were your only audience at this point, you didn't think you'd ever seriously sing in front of anyone else. Or so you thought anyway.
Contrary to your beliefs someone was spying on you, well, rather listening to your singing. He himself was quite notoriously punk-styled, his clothes the practical opposite of the dress-code at school. Not that that was his reason for dressing like that.
He was forming his own band. In fact, it wasn't far from being complete. The bass was his forte and he practiced it to pieces every day, late into the night. His eye had fallen on you when he'd heard you softly singing to yourself as you were cleaning your classroom; that was the point he knew he had to convince you to join him.
He inched closer along your garden fence, trying to recognise what you were singing. His green eyes brightened as he finally figured the song out. Silently he strummed the notes that went along with it on his imaginary bass, smiling.
You finished the last word, leaving it to vibrate in the air, your arms outstretched as if you were thanking the audience. "So when do you think you'll ever perform?"
You shrieked at the question, striking a karate-pose in the direction the voice came from. "Wha-what the-!" Arthur Kirkland. The Arthur Kirkland was leaning on your garden fence. The punk guy who made you love punk the way you did. The one who made your heart thump weirdly whenever he passed, talked, especially when he smiled.
And from the look on his face he'd heard you sing.
Deciding it was too late to feign innocence, you hung your head. "I'm not gonna perform..." you mumbled, looking at the grass between your toes. "Hell yes, you are." You heard a ploff as he vaulted over your fence, with seemingly no effort at all.
He walked up to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "I've kept quiet about your voice for too long now, and so have you." You squeaked. "Y-you- ho-how long have you listened to me?!" You demanded. "A couple of months or so." He said, brushing it off as if it was nothing.
Was that the reason he always seemed to send you a conspiratorial look whenever you saw him? Damn him. Damn him and his gorgeous puppy-dog eyes.
"I promise you, you won't regret it." He told you with a coo in his voice, accompanied with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "But I already do!" You exclaimed, throwing your hands out in frustration.
"Don't worry. Your voice is stunning. And I'm sure everybody else will think that as well. And you know what, it's just a bit of fun. It doesn't really matter if it works out or not!" Arthur grinned crookedly at you, making your heart skip a beat.
You faltered in your resolve. Well, it couldn't hurt to try could it....?
"Now we need to concentrate! This is the big moment." Arthur said to you, Mathias and Antonio. After a few months of practicing, the four of you'd grown into quite the band, even if you did say so yourself.
And Arthur had been entirely correct. The first few sessions you'd had with the rest had been a bit nerve-wracking, but the Dane and Spaniard had welcomed you with open arms. Now all you looked forward to was the next time you could sing with the trio, they were actually quite good!
And today you'd landed a gig. For the first time, and by Jove, were you nervous! Arthur noticed your jittering easily and sat down on the sagging couch next to you.
"Y'allright love?" It did not help you right now that you could feel his side gently touching yours or that you could feel his cool breath on your face right now. All it did was make you even more hot and bothered, nervousness oozing out of every one of your pores.
He placed his hand on your back, offering you that killer smile of his. "Don't worry. Imagine it's just the four of us like every week. We don't care if it's wrong or not, just have fun doing it, love. That's all that matters."
Shakily, you smiled in reply. That did make you feel a hell of a lot better. "I'll get it right. I promise Arthur."
"Guys, we're up!" Mathias loud voice came from the door that led upstairs and up-stage. Antonio waved cheerily, speeding up the steps behind the Dane. "Let's go then." Arthur said as he heaved himself up from the sofa, holding his hand out for you.
Gratefully you took it, chuckling when you bumped into him when you straightened up. "O-oh, and before I forget," he murmured, as if he'd just remembered, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. Slowly, Arthur leaned down towards you, as if he was about to kiss you.
But he chickened out, settling on kissing your cheek, though getting dangerously close to your lips. "Good luck charm..." he mumbled, his face red as he looked towards the door.
"Arthur!" you cried as you grabbed hold of him, pulling his head down so your lips met his.
Breathlessly, you parted and smiled widely. "My charm's better than yours~" you sang as you interlaced your fingers. Happily the two of you made your way up to the stage. Arthur pulled the curtain back to get knocked back by a roar of the crowd.
"The audience awaits, love."