[colour=a8e4a0][b]Grover Santiago[/b][/colour]

A late Grover threw open the door to the band room, clasping his writing notebook in his arms. He looked at the crowd, an embarrassed smile on his face. Yeah, he was late a lot, but that didn't stop him from feeling terrible every time.

He looked around for the conductor, glad that she was nowhere in sight. He really didn't want to marked down late today. His eyes turned to the class. Then quickly turned away, because everyone was staring at him and that made him seriously uncomfortable. He avoided the Liz/Tudor/Jacinta trio (but gave a friendly smile to the latter), almost eluded Ashanti's piercing gaze, and successfully navigated the mess of stands in the back of the room. 

At the tuba room door, he allowed himself to drop his notebook on some random shelf. 

The tuba room and the ensemble room were quite close together, and Grover, out of mere curiosity, looked inside. Through the small window in the, he could see a few percussionists practicing. There were a good number in there, but he only saw one: Salvatore. 

Salvatore was sitting down and looking at his phone. It was a pretty mundane thing to do, but that didn't stop Grover from watching with rapt attention.

He was staring, he realized. And being pretty weird.

He made it to his seat with his tuba, trying to shove all Salvatore thoughts out of his mind (and failing miserably). To distract himself, he decided to oil his valves. After he unscrewed the first one, he noticed Jacob ambling about.  Talking to Jacob would be a much more desirable task than tuba maintenance. 
"Hey, Jacob!" Grover waved enthusiastically. [@mskennedy615]

Only after waving did he notice that he had left his book somewhere.

His book was somewhere. Anyone could pick it up and leaf through it if they wanted to. The odds of that happening were low, he knew, but his anxiety refused to take it to heart.
[hr][colour=722f37][b]Freddie Gerdie[/b][/colour]

Freddie had gone into the band room when there was barely anyone there, pen slipped behind her ear and saxophone already in hand. She liked it when it was empty. The cacophony of tuning instruments and rowdy teens was gone, in favour of a soft silence. 

[i]Now,[/i] she thought, looking around the room, [i]not so much. [/i]

Her sax lay on her case, and she sat cross-legged in her chair, drawing on her arm. She was drawing this cool peacock design that one day she wanted as a tattoo. But for now, with her anal-retentive parents, her tattoo dreams would have to wait. 

A lot of things would have to wait. Like a third piercing. And another dye job. And a few other things that she hadn't mentioned to her parents yet. 

She noticed Noelle at a side of the room, all by herself. Freddie smiled, and put her pen behind her ear. It was always fun bothering Noelle. She walked up to the corner where the small girl kneeled, and leaned against the wall. "How's it going, pipsqueak?" [@RomanAria]