B.l.a.s.t.i.n.g the Music Room // .o.P.e.N.

[harry]

The final bell had rung about an hour ago but young Harold stayed within the confines of the music room, the keys lent by one of the janitors that happened to work a shift with him at Starbucks. He had guaranteed Harold at least two hours of use for the classroom as long as he didn't break or mess anything up. That included doing any suspicious activities, and the man guaranteed he would be talking to the police if any such thing had happened.

But little Harry wasn't like that, he just wanted to use the amps in the room to play guitar. Why? Because it was one of the only outlets for his frustrations.

He played tracks of songs, the guitar's tune in them digitally removed, so he could play in its place. He had a friend who could do that and had often begged him to, since he knew how the play the songs by heart. No, he did not look up the music sheets for the songs, he just knew, after hour upon hour upon days of hearing them over and over and over again. Harold was like that, a true musician. Elise often said that he could be part of the band that would be the new 'HIM', but her cousin, who idolized them, told her not to joke in such a manner and would through any small piece of food he had at her. At that moment it had been a marshmallow.

Currently 'rocking' to the tunes of 'Famous Last Words' by My Chemical Romance, Harold faced the wall where the doors rested. The doors had windows in them so you could clearly see inside but he didn't cared because no one almost passed through the halls at the time. Most of the teachers were in the lounge anyways.

He continued playing, this time without having his glasses or regular beanie on, letting his dirty blond hair fall upon his shoulders. His grandmother often talked about having it cut, but the women in several of her 'clubs' had told her it gave her grandson a rather 'mysterious' look. One such lady, Mrs. Straten, said that she would love to present him her granddaughter. Harold had met her...

She was waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too high-strung for his taste and only liked him because of said 'mysterious' looks. The boy never really talked at events his grandmother dragged.. threatened him to go to, which had earned him an 'hard to even get to mutter' reputation. It didn't help.

So, he played, trying to forget the normal but tiring day, on and on and on as 'Black Parade' came on the speakers.