#school spirits maddie

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

💋ྀིྀི 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Five

The day after the football team's practice, where Wally had been caught up in the rhythm of the show choir's rehearsal, everything feels... heavy. Your thoughts keep circling back to the way he had lingered at the edge of the field, listening. You're unsure if he knows you noticed, but you shove that aside, trying to focus. The one thing that's been on your mind, the thing that's been driving you for so long, is the upcoming regional competition.

You walk through the halls of Split River, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the emptiness around you. There's a dull ache in your chest, a mix of anticipation and anxiety about what's ahead. The walls feel smaller today, tighter, as if the building itself is holding its breath along with you.

The hallway is lined with rows of trophies—gold and silver, gleaming in the soft fluorescent light above. The football trophies are front and center, of course, lining one entire wall. The cheerleading trophies, too, shine with pride. They're the ones everyone notices, the ones people care about.

But when your gaze drifts to the small corner where the show choir's trophies sit, the difference is impossible to ignore. Their space is humble, almost an afterthought. There's just a handful of them—two second-place trophies, a participation plaque from a few years ago, and a collection of dust. Not much to speak of, but to you, it's everything.

You stop in front of the trophies, your fingers brushing lightly against the cold glass of the case. The ones that should be there but aren't, the ones you'll win someday, if you push hard enough. That's the reason you've been pouring your energy into this—because the show choir is always treated like it doesn't matter, like it's a joke. It's always been at the bottom of the social hierarchy in this school. People roll their eyes when they hear about it, make snide comments under their breath.

You want to change that. You need to change that.

You've always been told you're not good enough, not popular enough, not enough—but winning regionals? That would change everything. It would prove to everyone that the show choir is worthy of being taken seriously. No more jokes. No more sideways glances. And maybe, just maybe, you could finally gain a little bit of the respect you've been craving for so long.

That's why you're pushing yourself so hard, why you're holding the group together even when it seems like the whole thing might fall apart. The rivalry with the cheerleaders, the difficulty with choreography, the tension between everyone—it's all worth it. You tell yourself that it will be worth it when you stand on that stage, and the judges see what you can really do.

You stand there, staring at the dusty trophies, the weight of your goal pressing down on your chest. If you can win this, everything will change. You'll no longer be the "other" group at Split River High. The show choir will finally have its place, its recognition, and maybe—just maybe—it will be enough to get you out of the shadow of the bigger, louder clubs.

But it's more than just that. You can't help but feel like this is your chance to prove something to yourself, too. That you're more than what people think of you. That you can make something of yourself, something worth remembering. So it was crucial this half time performance was perfect. It would put the show choir on the front and center for the student body. Make them want to join. It was important. It was everything right now.

"What you thinking about?" Dawn asks, popping a lollipop in her mouth as she walked down the hall beside you.

"I'm nervous Dawn." You confess, feeling your chest tighten. "Claire's girls won't stop fighting with the rest of our members. Whenever I try to step in they just stare at me like I'm some evil witch." You say with a sigh, seeing your locker come into view. You put a bit of a pep in your step, trying to get to your locker as fast as possible.

"You can't be too worried. We all want it to be good, so I think we'll pull through." Dawn said, looking up at the ceiling again. "Have you ever thought of pulling out a lightbulb?" Dawn asks quietly, watching the lights flicker in the hall.

You stay silent, stepping in front of your locker to put your combination in. Before you can open the locker door however, a large hand slams it shut. You look up quickly, Dawn growing quiet as you're met with a blue and white varsity jacket. Wally fucking Clark.

"Hey. You're the captain of the show choir right?" He asks, pointing to you. You sigh and lean your shoulder on your locker, looking up at him.

"I wouldn't say that but yes I am." You respond, looking down at your nails, feeling a sudden chip in them. Hm.

"Well, is there like a way we can try out or something?" Wally asks with a smile, gesturing to the two other guys standing behind him. Like children waiting for their mother. You eye the two players behind him before looking back to Wally.

"Try out? This isn't football." You respond, arching a brow at him. You push off of your locker, hands on the lock again, moving and twisting the knob to enter the combination. Dawn is eerily quiet next to you, something unusual for her.

"Okay well audition, whatever we have to do. We wanna join." Wally says with a smile. You pause your movements, locker door open at an odd angle. You lean back a bit to look Wally in the face, confused all over yours.

"You... want to audition... for show choir?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah. You guys are doing the performance for our halftime right?" He asked, his friends nodding behind him. "We figured it was the least we could do." He said with a smile, resting a hand on his hip.

"Audition tomorrow!" Dawn blurts out, eyes fixated on a particular jock behind Wally. You say nothing as you watch her watch him, before sighing. You weren't exactly in the position to turn people away either.

"Fine. Tomorrow after your football practice. We'll be in the auditorium. You each need to sing a song, or you all sing parts of one song. Up to you." You say, before tapping your chin lightly. "You'll need to dance too." You add, before looking to the other two guys behind Wally. "Can either of you play an instrument?" You ask.

"I play bass," the other guy says, his voice quieter, more confident than his friend's.

You nod, making a mental note of their skills. "Alright, that'll work," you say, unsure whether you're excited or annoyed by the chaos that's bound to follow. No part of this could be good.

Dawn, still staring at the jock behind Wally, speaks up again. "See you tomorrow," she says, a weird grin forming on her lips.

You roll your eyes and slam your locker shut. "See you, I guess," you mutter, turning to leave, but not without noticing Wally's lingering gaze on you as you walk away. There's something different in his look—something more than just a casual interest. You wonder lightly if he knows you caught him being actually interested in the performance you put on the day prior. You try to shake off the feeling, but it lingers.

"Do you really think it'll work?" Wally asks, sitting around a few of the guys at lunch. "I mean c'mon, what if it was one of the cheerleaders?" He asked.

"Dude, Claire hates the show choir. No way one f the cheerleaders would sing like that. If they did they'd be kicked off her squad." Chris responded back, picking at his lunch. The fries are cardboard at best, but he was hungry. Wally sighed, looking across the cafeteria to watch a certain table. Your table.

"It has to work." Tyler, another player said. "If whoever you heard sounded that good she has to be there." He said, a short attempt at calming Wally down.

"Is this really worth it though?" Chris asked, dipping his fry in some ketchup. "I mean won't coach kill us?" He rephrased, plopping the fry in his mouth. Wally shrugged, shaking his water bottle before popping the lid open.

"Maybe. But if we get in and tell our counselor we should have no problem." Wally said, taking a sip of his protein shake. His mind was racing with a million thoughts. The game was this week, just three days away. Was now really the best time for this?

"We'll find whoever this girl is and then we'll just drop out. Easy." Tyler said.

"We have a problem." Claire said suddenly, plopping her lunch tray down on the table. The boys jumped slightly, not even realizing she'd been so close.

"What happened?" Chris asked. Claire huffed before sitting down, looking over her shoulder at her table of girls before back to the boys.

"We don't have enough guys." She whispered. At this, Tyler and Wally exchanged a look, before looking back to Claire.

"Enough guys? Enough guys for what?" Wally asked. Claire sighed, rubbing her temples.

"The 15 minute break? What else would I be talking about?" She asked, before Chris let out an 'oh' in reply. "We have more than enough girls. But we can't use Simon because he and Yuri are working on the technical stuff. And I'm not asking those theatre kids for any more favors after all the money I had to dish out just to get them to make a set for us."

"Hold on, a set? I thought you guys would just be walking the field or something while you guys cheer?" Tyler asked, but Claire shook her head.

"If I have to cheer and dance with those show choir freaks I'm gonna give it my all." Claire said, causing Tyler to sigh.

"Is this gonna affect the game?" Wally asked, more focused on wether or not it would cut into his playing time.

"No. We'll have the theatre department put it together right when you get off the field. Then we get up there, do our little performance, get off before the break ends so they have enough time to take it apart." Claire said. Suddenly, an idea popped into Tyler's mind.

"Hey Claire, you're pretty involved in this whole thing right?" Tyler asked, earning a curious look from Wally and Chris. What did it matter to him?

"Uh yeah? I'm kind of in charge? Why?" Claire asked. Tyler grinned, glancing at Wally quickly before looking back to Claire.

"So who's the main singer?" He asked. Wally's eyes widened a bit before he regained his composure. He knew if Claire noticed she'd ask right away.

"Oh it's-" Just as she was about to finish her sentence, the lunch bell rang drowning out anything she'd had said. Wally's stomach tensed. His fingers curled into a fist under the table as if that would somehow hold onto the name he just missed. He leaned in slightly, hoping she'd repeat herself, but Claire was already grabbing her tray, her mind elsewhere. Just like that, the answer was gone.

"Well, I tried." Tyler said, patting Wally's shoulder.

The hum of the overhead lights was just loud enough to make you want to take a nap, but the soft chatter of students waiting for the final bell kept you awake. English class was the last thing standing between you and the end of the day, and judging by the way Janet was already turned toward you, she had no intention of letting you zone out.

"So," she said, flipping through the well-worn pages of the book you were reading for class. "Did you finish the chapter last night?"

You nodded, twirling your pen between your fingers. "Yeah. It was actually kind of good. I liked the part where—"

"Right?" Janet cut in, leaning forward with excitement. "That whole scene with the confrontation? I was on the edge of my seat. I swear, if the author doesn't give them a happy ending, I'm throwing this book across the room."

You smirked, watching as she hugged the novel like it was a prized possession. "I'll make sure to duck if it comes flying."

Janet scoffed, nudging your arm. "Oh, shut up." But the teasing didn't last long before she turned serious. "You know, speaking of dramatic moments, I can't believe the game is already this Friday."

Your stomach twisted slightly at the mention of it. "Yeah. It's coming up fast."

"I mean, this is kind of huge," Janet continued, oblivious to the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "A show choir performing at a football game? That's never happened before. People are actually talking about it. I even heard some of the younger kids saying they might want to join next year."

Your heart skipped a beat. That was the goal, wasn't it? To make people care? To finally be seen?

But instead of excitement, a wave of pressure settled on your chest.

Janet tapped her fingers against her desk, grinning. "It's all because of you, y'know. You're like, the voice of the show choir. If you kill it, people will actually start respecting us."

Your fingers tightened around your pen.

And if I don't?

The thought crept in before you could stop it.

If you messed up, if your voice cracked, if the performance wasn't perfect—what then? Would people still want to join? Or would they roll their eyes and laugh, confirming every doubt you ever had?

Janet kept talking, but her voice faded into background noise. Your mind was already running a million miles a minute, replaying every worst-case scenario. The halftime performance wasn't just a routine—it was a statement. And if you didn't get it right, if you failed, you wouldn't just be letting yourself down.

You'd be letting everyone down.

The final bell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts. Around you, students started gathering their things, eager to escape. Janet stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You'll be great," she said, completely unaware of the storm she had just set off in your mind. "I can't wait to see you prove everyone wrong."

You forced a smile, nodding, but inside, the pressure was already building.

Friday felt impossibly close. Rehearsals were coming along fine. The cheer girls and the rest of the show choir group had decided to not argue, but now it was incredibly silent. Claire insisted on having her girls in the front, this way the performance was 'more appealing' to the student body. You couldn't care less, opting to just focus on your voice and keeping it fresh for the show.

"How are you feeling?" Charley asked, leaning against the piano. Currently, you'd been playing some of the keys, wandering off in your own mind. But Charley seemed to like you in reality more.

"I'm feeling alright." You replied, looking at everyone else. The girls were off to their own side, Yuri and Simon standing next to each other, likely going over technical issues. "I'm just a bit nervous." You say, before looking back at Charley. "But I mean who isn't? It's normal and I think as long as I keep practicing everything will be fine." You say. Charley just nodded, giving you that look that says he doesn't really believe anything you said.

Charley lets out a small hum, still watching you with that knowing look. "You always say that," he says, nudging your arm lightly. "That you'll be fine, that you've got it under control." His voice is calm, steady. "And I believe you, I do. But just so you know—you don't have to do this all by yourself."

He leans against the piano a little more, crossing his arms. "I know you're not the type to ask for help, but I'm here. We all are." His expression softens. "So if it ever feels like too much... you can talk to me about it. Okay?"

You say nothing, giving him a smile and a nod. You knew if you actually touched on the subject you'd probably be there forever. For now, it was comforting to know someone had your back, even if you didn't ask for it.

"Come on guys! We need to get this down by tomorrow!" Claire's voice rang through the auditorium. With the set finally finished, the theatre department was now taking it apart backstage. While that was being done backstage, you all were rehearsing choreography, again.

"Do you have the whole thing memorized?" Maddie asked sarcastically, stopping in place. It'd been really awkward between the two, considering they aren't friends anymore.

"I actually do. If I didn't, I wouldn't be so worried about you guys not knowing it." She said back, rolling her eyes. She clapped her hands together before her voice rang out again. "Alright! From the top!"

"I am so over this." Charley said as he walked next to Maddie, taking their spots next to a few cheerleaders.

The bass rattled through the auditorium speakers, sending vibrations up through the stage floor as everyone moved in sync—well, almost in sync.

"Step, turn, hit!" Claire's voice rang out over the music, her sharp claps echoing through the space. "Again! Half of you are too slow, and the other half are too fast. Do it right!"

You exhaled through your nose, keeping your focus on the movements. Step forward, pivot, hit the final pose. Simple. But with the amount of people missing their marks, it was starting to look more like chaos than a performance.

Next to you, Maddie huffed under her breath. "If she claps one more time, I'm gonna lose it."

"Just keep going," you murmured, adjusting your positioning. Across the stage, Charley caught your eye, rolling his dramatically as he mimicked Claire's posture.

"From the top!" Claire barked, and groans rippled through the group.

The music restarted, the opening synths of Espresso swelling back into the speakers. This time, the show choir members tried harder to stay in sync with the cheerleaders, but the formations were still stiff, hesitant.

Halfway through the second chorus, it happened.

Someone missed their cue, and suddenly, the domino effect took over. A step out of place. An arm thrown too early. The entire front row nearly collided, making a few people stumble.

Claire let out a sharp breath. "Seriously?" She turned on her heel. "What is the issue?"

Maddie, still catching her breath, wiped sweat from her forehead. "I don't know, maybe the fact that we've been doing this for an hour straight?"

Claire ignored her, eyes scanning the group like she was searching for a target. Then, her brows furrowed.

The music cut off abruptly, the sudden silence ringing louder than the song itself. Everyone stood frozen in place, glancing around, realizing at the same time that something felt... off.

"Where the hell is Dawn?" Claire's voice sliced through the quiet.

You turned your head, scanning the group. Maddie was already looking around, brow furrowed. "She was right next to me a second ago," she muttered.

"Great." Claire pinched the bridge of her nose. "So we're wasting time now? Perfect. Just perfect."

Simon sighed, hands on his hips. "Maybe she just ran to the bathroom?"

"Without saying anything?" Claire shot back. "We can't run this without her!"

A few people exchanged glances, but no one moved to argue. It was true—the formation was already shaky, and missing one person threw everything off even more.

"I'll go look for her," you offered, stepping forward.

"I'll come with," Maddie added immediately.

"Me too." Charley sighed, shooting a glance at Claire. "Not that I don't love standing here getting yelled at, but I need a break."

Claire didn't even respond, just waved a hand like she was dismissing all three of you.

It didn't take long to figure out where to start. The halls were mostly empty this late in the day, and if Dawn wasn't inside, then...

"She's outside," Maddie said, like she was reading your mind. "I just know it."

The three of you made your way toward the field, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the grass. As you got closer to the bleachers, movement caught your eye.

There—half-hidden behind the metal beams, Dawn stood close to someone, her voice hushed. Tyler.

Maddie stopped walking. "Are you kidding me?"

Dawn looked up, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. Tyler glanced over his shoulder, then took a step back, shoving his hands into his pockets like he wasn't just whispering to her.

"Dawn," you said, not angry, just... confused.

"I know," she blurted, guilt flashing across her face. "I know, I'm sorry—I just—" She sighed, glancing at Tyler before stepping forward. "I wasn't trying to ditch. I swear."

Maddie crossed her arms. "You kind of did."

Charley just raised an eyebrow. "I mean, if you wanted to sneak off, you could've picked a less obvious spot. Rookie mistake."

Dawn groaned, rubbing her temples. "I wasn't sneaking off! It wasn't like that."

No one really knew what to say to that, but before anyone could respond, a new voice cut through the moment like a knife.

"There you are."

Claire.

She stood a few feet away, arms crossed so tight it was like she was holding herself back from exploding. "Do you think we have time for this?"

Dawn looked down. "I said I was sorry."

"That's not the point." Claire's voice was sharp. "We're already behind, and you disappearing isn't helping."

Dawn's face flushed. Tyler cleared his throat. "It was my fault," he admitted, though it didn't seem like Claire cared.

"No, it's fine." You stepped in before this turned into something worse. "We found her. Let's just go back."

Claire exhaled through her nose, but after a second, she nodded stiffly. "Fine. Let's go."

Dawn gave Tyler one last glance before following you and the others back toward the auditorium. And even though no one else brought it up, you had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time Dawn disappeared.

[spaghettitm]

Oh! Then can you do school spirits cast reacting to reader coming out as trans (male)?? I feel like it would be a wild ride.

anon what if i marry you/j.....ignore my headcanons if you don't agree with them <:3

also sorry that they're all kind of short,, i didn't know what else to put

——

🧡Maddie🧭

She took it really well!

She tells you that one of her best friends, Simon is also trans!

She corrects people from misgendering you, even if it's just under her breath

if you hadn't picked a name out yet, she'd be more than willing to help you figure one out!

💓Charley🥜

He felt so honored that you were comfortable enough to tell him

If He slips up and deadnames you, he immediately corrects himself and feels HORRIBLE

He'd try to help you find some sort of chest binder around the school!

(bonus: you probably came out to him in the showers :3 )

💙Wally🏈

You had to explain to him what it meant

after loads of explaining, he gives you his big ol' smile

He thinks its so cool that you're so in tune with yourself, and know that you're trans

He really supports you!! despite him slipping up and using the wrong pronoun on accident. (Maddie corrects him!)

He helps you find all the cool masc clothes you could ever want😎

🖤Rhonda🍭

She doesn't show it through her face, but she's deeply touched that you feel that you and her are close enough to share something like that

She helps you cut your hair—if you even want/need to cut your hair.

she gives you masculine compliments every now and then, when she's in a good mood

let me know if you want me to do the humans/the background ghosts :DDDDDD

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Four

The air in the show choir room was thick with tension. What started as an ambitious idea was quickly becoming a logistical nightmare. The cheerleaders stood on one side of the room, arms crossed, ponytails bouncing whenever they rolled their eyes. The show choir members stood on the other, looking just as unimpressed.

At the center of it all stood Claire Zolinski, clipboard in hand, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against the surface. Across from her, Charley had their arms crossed, gaze sharp. Maddie was beside them, shifting her weight like she was physically holding back the urge to say something snarky.

“Alright,” Claire exhaled, looking around at the divided room. “We’re running out of time. We need to at least get through Espresso before practice is over.”

Nicole clapped her hands together, trying to cut through the tension with enthusiasm. “It’s a high-energy song! If we nail the timing, it’s gonna look amazing!”

“It would help if the choreography actually made sense,” Charley shot back.

Claire stiffened. “It does make sense. You just don’t know how to keep up.”

Charley scoffed. “Right, because we definitely spend our time throwing people in the air for fun.”

“You don’t spend your time dancing, that’s for sure.”

“Okay, enough,” you interrupted, stepping forward before the argument could spiral further. “Can we at least try to get through this? Fighting isn’t gonna magically make the routine better.

Claire and Charley didn’t break eye contact for a moment longer before Claire finally sighed and looked away. “Fine.”

Maddie muttered something under her breath, but you ignored it, turning to Yuri, who was adjusting the mic stand. “Let’s start from the top.”

Simon cracked his knuckles, looking more excited for the dancing than the actual singing. “Let’s do this.”

Dawn hit play on the speaker, and the bass from Espresso filled the room. Immediately, everyone scrambled into position.

The first few beats started strong—Simon and Nicole nailed the footwork, and Yuri’s vocals were clean and controlled. But it didn’t take long for things to start falling apart. The cheerleaders weren’t in sync with the choir members. The formations were off. Some of the show choir kids were getting tripped up by the fast transitions.

By the time the first chorus hit, Claire threw her hands up in frustration.

“Stop, stop, stop!” she yelled, reaching over to pause the music. “This isn’t working!”

“Oh really?” Maddie shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I couldn’t tell.”

Claire turned to her sharply. “You could at least try instead of rolling your eyes every five seconds.”

“I am trying. It’s just hard to take this seriously when it’s obvious you don’t actually care about us being part of this. You just need warm bodies to fill your routine.”

Claire’s jaw clenched, and for the first time, something flickered in her expression—guilt, maybe? But it was gone just as fast. “I do care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you in the first place.”

Maddie crossed her arms. “Yeah, well, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”

Before things could spiral again, Yuri let out a sharp sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Enough. If we’re going to make this work, we need to simplify things where we can.” He turned to you, eyes sharp with decision. “You’re singing all the songs.”

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“It’ll be cleaner if we don’t switch vocalists mid-performance. It gives the routine consistency, and let’s be real, you have the strongest voice for these songs.” Yuri’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Janet nodded in agreement. “It makes sense. Less moving around for us, and the focus stays on the performance itself instead of worrying about transitions.”

Claire, for once, didn’t argue, just crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine by me. As long as we can actually get through the choreography.”

You hesitated for a moment, but seeing everyone waiting for your answer, you finally nodded. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Yuri said. “Now, let’s actually run this thing properly.”

The two groups exchanged glances, tension still thick in the air, but eventually, they all grumbled in agreement.

“Alright,” Claire said, rolling back her shoulders. “From the top.”

The music started again. And this time, despite the mistakes, despite the hesitations, despite the obvious divide in the room—something clicked.

It still wasn’t perfect, but for the first time, it actually felt like they might be able to pull this off.

By the time practice was over, the tension had eased—but just barely. The cheerleaders and the show choir weren’t exactly friends, but at least they weren’t actively trying to strangle each other anymore. Progress.

As everyone started packing up, Nicole clapped her hands together. “So, I talked to the theater department, and they’re in.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “In for what?”

“The setup for the halftime show. You know how they’re the fastest at putting sets together? They’ll be responsible for whatever staging we have on the field.”

Janet grinned. “That actually makes this a lot easier. They work fast, and they’ll make sure everything doesn’t fall apart mid-performance.”

Claire, still slightly stiff from earlier arguments, nodded. “Fine. But tell them not to overdo it. We don’t need a Broadway production, just something functional.”

Nicole smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. They’re already planning something over-the-top. You know how they are.”

Claire groaned, rubbing her temples, but didn’t argue.

“Alright,” Yuri sighed. “We’ll meet up tomorrow to go over everything again. Let’s hope it actually looks like a halftime show by then.”

With that, practice wrapped up, and everyone filed out—some leaving in pairs, others in quiet groups, all exhausted but determined.

The sun hung low in the sky, streaking the field with gold as the football team pushed through their drills. The air was thick with sweat, the sharp scent of churned-up grass, and the distant echo of cleats slamming against turf.

But none of that mattered to Wally Clark.

Not when the coach was in his face, practically spitting as he yelled.

“Pick it up, Clark! You’re not running plays like you mean them! You want a championship or not?”

Wally gritted his teeth, helmet tucked under his arm, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. “Yes, Coach.”

“Then act like it! You’re the best we got! You don’t bring your A-game, we don’t win. And I don’t lose!”

The words sank deep into Wally’s chest, pressing against the already suffocating weight of expectations. He knew all of this. He didn’t need to hear it again.

But before the frustration could fester, Coach blew the whistle. “Five-minute break! Hydrate!”

The players scattered, some jogging to the sidelines for water, others flopping onto the grass with exhausted groans. Wally exhaled hard, rolling his shoulders, trying to shake off the stress.

That was when the whistles started.

A couple of his teammates nudged each other, smirking as they tilted their chins toward the field entrance. “Well, hello, ladies.”

Wally didn’t even glance up. He’d seen the cheerleaders walk onto the field a million times before. It wasn’t exactly a life-changing event.

But then—

The music started.

At first, it was just a heavy beat pulsing through the speakers. But then, a voice cut through the field.

Clear. Strong. Captivating.

Wally frowned, finally looking up as he pulled his helmet off.

The cheerleaders were moving into formation, rehearsing their halftime routine. The show choir had set up near them, their small group arranged with microphones, preparing to run through the setlist. But Wally barely registered any of that.

Because he was focused on her.

Or at least, he was trying to.

He couldn’t see her—she was too far, blocked by some of the other performers—but he could hear her. And that was enough to make something inside him pause.

She sounded good.

Not just decent, not just okay. Really, really good. Like she belonged on a stage bigger than a high school football field.

And it bothered him.

Because he wasn’t expecting it.

His feet moved before he could stop himself, stepping toward the edge of the field, trying to angle himself for a better look. Just as he was about to get a clear view—

“Clark!”

Coach’s bark snapped him out of it, and he turned sharply, setting his jaw.

“Get over here! We’re going over plays!”

Wally clenched his helmet in one hand, giving the field one last glance. He still couldn’t see her.

But the voice stayed with him.

Even as he jogged back to his teammates, even as the coach started barking orders again—he could still hear her.

And for the first time in a long time, Wally Clark found something slipping through the cracks of football, pressure, and expectations.

Curiosity.

Soft shades of pink and baby blue painted the walls, the warm glow of fairy lights strung along the white curtains casting gentle shadows. Jewelry clinked softly against the edges of a porcelain tray on her vanity, catching the dim light like scattered stars. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh linen, an otherwise safe and dreamy space—if not for the muffled chaos drifting up from downstairs.

The shouting had started almost twenty minutes ago.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Pretended it was just another disagreement, a raised voice or two before everything settled down. But then something shattered.

Your stomach twisted.

You paced the length of you room, arms crossed tightly over your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt. You didn’t know what to do. Could you do anything? If you went downstairs, you might make it worse. If you stayed put, you’d have to keep listening, the weight of every sharp word digging under your skin.

The sound of something else breaking made you flinch.

Your hands shook as you reached for your phone, quickly scrolling to Dawn’s contact. You pressed the call button and brought the phone to your ear, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Pick up. Please pick up.”

The line rang once. Twice.

Straight to voicemail.

You exhaled sharply, throat tight. Of course. It’s late. She’s probably asleep.

The voices downstairs swelled again, and you quickly set your phone aside, not trusting your grip. Instead, you crawled onto your bed, curling up against the plush comforter.

It was all you could do.

Just wait.

Wait for it to stop.

Wait for the voices to drop back down into silence, for the tension to dissolve into an uneasy stillness.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

Even with the distant echoes of anger in the air, even with the weight pressing heavy on your chest—your eyelids grew heavier. Your body gave in.

And as you slipped into sleep, the last thing you heard was the sound of someone walking away downstairs.

The steady rhythm of a basketball hitting the wall filled the room, punctuated by the occasional swish as it landed perfectly in the small hoop hanging over his door. Wally leaned back against his pillows, tossing the ball absentmindedly, watching it spin in the air before catching it again.

His phone buzzed on his nightstand.

He ignored it.

Another buzz. Then another.

Probably the guys in the group chat talking about practice, or the game on Friday, or something else football-related. He just didn’t care right now. He needed a break. A second to breathe without thinking about running plays, winning streaks, or his coach drilling it into his head that he was the key to a championship.

He exhaled through his nose, tossing the ball a little harder.

His mind wandered back to practice, to the way his coach got on his case about picking up the pace. It wasn’t like he was slacking off, but lately, it felt like no matter how much he gave, it wasn’t enough. The pressure was there, constant, sitting heavy on his shoulders.

His grip tightened around the ball.

Then—his thoughts shifted.

To her voice.

The rehearsal.

That halftime thing the choir was doing with the cheerleaders. He hadn’t planned on paying attention, but he did. More than he wanted to admit.

The sound of her voice had cut through the noise of practice, weaving through the air in a way that made him stop. He hadn’t even seen her—just heard her, like something drawing him in before he could think twice about it.

And now he was wondering.

Who the hell was that?

His phone buzzed again.

He let the ball drop into his lap and ran a hand down his face, staring up at the ceiling, still hearing the lingering melody in his head.

And for the first time all night, it wasn’t football running circles in his brain.

It was her.

Whoever she was.

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

💋ྀིྀི 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on!

Playlist

Masterlist

Act One

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five

Act Two

Chapter Six // Chapter seven // Chapter eight // Chapter nine // Chapter ten

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

💋ྀིྀི 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

Synopsis: Split Rivers Sweetheart, a sweet little Junior who’s the lead singer of the schools show choir. The only issue is a certain head cheerleader has made it her life’s mission to disband your club with her family’s money. Unfortunately for her, you seem to have more support than you realize, maybe even from the golden boy himself. Wally Clark.

Notes: Modern AU! All characters are alive! Mentions of Alcohol, Drugs, partying! Reader and all characters are around 17-18 ish! Most of my inspo for this was from Glee since I’m rewatching the show. 80’s References & so on.

Masterlist // Chapter Two

Split River had undoubtedly been the school of champions. At least, that’s what the students like to think. Trophy’s line the halls like decor, filling the football team with pride as they make their way down the hall, basking in their fresh victory. Nowadays, it was difficult to be considered good. At best, most schools hated their own teams. Split River was different though. When you go to Split River, it’s always competitive. It’s a ‘eat-or-be-eaten’ kind of life. One that really prepares you for the real world, in one way or another.

“I can’t believe we won sectionals.” You hear from your left. Dawn is smiling happily as she taps her fingers on the locker next to yours. “Now all we have left is regionals and then it’s off to nationals.”

“Don’t get so ahead of yourself.” You hear from your right. Maddie says , pessimistic as always. You giggle a bit to yourself, grabbing the proper books before shutting your locker.

“Why not?” You ask with a smile. Dawn grins even wider next to you as the three of you begin to walk down the hall. “I mean last year we lost regionals yeah, but that’s what we have this year for. We need to be confident this time.” You say to Maddie more than anyone.

“If we lose again we’ll be the laughing stock. Again.” She responded back, sporting a deadpanned look. “Regardless, we had to come up with new songs on the spot for sectionals. I mean come on. How did the other team have the exact same songs as us?” Maddie questioned, Dawn nodding along. It was odd, you couldn’t lie. If anything, it made you wonder if it really was coincidence or a true set up. But who would have set something like that up?

“Maybe you’re right.” You respond, stopping in front of yours class. “But we can still try to be optimistic. We don’t have much else anyway.” Dawn nods in agreement, staring up at the ceiling. Before either of the two can respond, the bell rings.

“I’ll see you for lunch.” Maddie says, walking away with Dawn to class.

Chemistry is nothing short of boring and tormenting. You’d probably explode something if it weren’t for Janet. She really is a savior of some kind, carrying you through the class as if her life depended on it. “You can’t just stare off into space forever you know.” She said, adjusting her goggles so she could see clearer.

“Yeah but this is so boring.” You respond back. You lean on your hand, eyes scanning the room. It’s a bit dull, everyone too engrossed with their own projects to pay attention to anything else but the crystals burning in front of them, like Janet.

“It’s not boring, you just don’t understand.” She replied with a huff. She was focused, holding the beaker with the metal tongs so still you would think she’d be too afraid to move.

“How’s everything going over here ladies?” Mr. Martin asks with a smile. You sit up promptly, hands in your lap as you smile up at him, almost on cue with Janet. “Everything’s going well Mr.Martin.” Janet replies for you both, save you the embarrassment of him questioning you on the experiment.

Mr. Martin continues to move down the aisles, checking in on everyone’s progress, and you exchange an exasperated look with Janet. You’re both barely holding on at this point. “I don’t know how much longer I can pretend to care about this,” you mutter under your breath, trying to make her laugh.

Janet lets out a quiet chuckle, looking back at the lab bench. “I get it. But hey, at least we’ll survive. We’re practically experts at this by now, especially with all the things you burn.”

You both glance toward the clock on the wall. The seconds are ticking down, and with a soft groan, you gather your things. The bell rings shortly after, and a sense of freedom floods over you as students begin to file out of the classroom.

“Thank God. Lunch finally,” you say to Janet, grabbing your bag and slipping your books into it as quickly as possible.

“I swear, you’re the only person I know who can’t get through a single period without daydreaming,” Janet teases, slipping on her own bag.

“Hey, I survive one class at a time,” you reply, a grin tugging at your lips.

The two of you head toward the door, and the hallway greets you with a wave of sound—students chatting, lockers slamming shut, and the general buzz of the school day continuing as usual. You’re already thinking about lunch. Maybe some fries, or if you’re lucky, you’ll manage to get an actual table with Dawn and Maddie and not have to hide somewhere to eat in peace.

As you step into the crowded hallway, you wave goodbye to Janet, who heads toward her next class, before heading toward the cafeteria. You’re almost there when you spot Dawn and Maddie, already deep in conversation near the entrance. You feel relieved when you see they’ve secured a proper table.

“Lunch is saved,” you mutter under your breath, a slight smile crossing your face as you walk toward them, ready to put the stress of the morning behind you. That was, until you felt it. That stare. As you wait on the lunch line to get your food, you begin to look around, feeling someone’s eyes on you. That’s when you finally pin point it.

Claire Zolinski. You sigh as you turn back around, stepping forward in line. You had never spoken to Claire before. But as far as you knew, she hated show choir, and hated you even more for what you’d done freshman year. But, the past was the past. Nothing you could do about it now right? Besides, you were surprised for all the ‘hatred’ she’d had towards you that the club still managed to survive. Maybe that was just something far out of her reach. As the line inches forward, you feel the weight of the show choir’s struggles pressing down on you. If only there were more people—if only the team wasn’t so small. You run a hand through your hair, the frustration building with each passing second.

“God, we need more bodies to make this work,” you mutter quietly to yourself.

It’s a thought that has crossed your mind too many times in the past week. With the upcoming competition looming, the pressure’s on. You glance around the cafeteria line, seeing full tables of students laughing and talking. They don’t know the kind of stress that comes with trying to make something great out of so little.

“If we had more people, we’d actually stand a chance at winning. But with the few of us left…” You sigh, the thought trailing off as you grab your food.

With a shake of your head, you move forward, mentally pushing the worries aside. There’s no point in dwelling on what you can’t control right now.

The noise of the cafeteria welcomes you, and you scan the room for your group. The clatter of trays and chatter fills the air, but it’s easy to spot your friends already gathered at their usual spot.

You head over to the table, your mind still buzzing with thoughts of the choir. As you walk closer, you see Yuri, Charley, Rhonda, and, of course, Simon and Nicole. The conversation at the table is already in full swing, but as you sit down next to Dawn and Maddie, their smiles are a welcome distraction from the weight of the morning.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Maddie asks, looking up from her phone with a raised eyebrow.

“Same old,” you reply, forcing a smile. “Just trying to keep it together, you know?”

Yuri leans over with a teasing grin. “What’s the matter? Running away from the competition already?”

You snort, shaking your head. “No, just… feels like we’re always one person short, you know?”

Charley, who’s been quietly sipping his drink, nods sympathetically. “I get it. But you’ll pull through. You always do.”

The others nod, and for a moment, you feel the comfort of having people who get it. Even if the choir’s facing its toughest challenge yet, you’ve got your friends, and that has to count for something.

The rest of lunch passes in a blur, the noise of the cafeteria slowly fading as the bell rings, signaling the end of your brief escape. You gather your things and head to the gym, your mind still on the show choir, but also on the upcoming challenges you know junior year will bring. Every day feels like it counts just a little more, and today is no exception.

The gym is bustling with the usual noise as students get ready for class. You and Maddie find a spot on the mat to do sit-ups, the hardwood floor creaking beneath you as you settle down. She groans slightly as she lays back, clearly not excited about the exercise. You glance over at her and let out a chuckle.

“Come on, Maddie, you’ve got this,” you tease, positioning yourself next to her.

“I swear, they never make this class any easier,” she mutters, pushing herself up for another sit-up. “We could be doing literally anything else right now.”

You laugh, pushing your own abs to do the next set of sit-ups. “Well, we need to stay in shape for the performances, don’t we?”

Maddie sighs dramatically, but she doesn’t stop. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Gotta keep my core strong to hold those notes.”

As you continue, your thoughts drift back to the weight of your junior year. Time’s ticking, and the pressure’s already starting to feel heavy. “You know,” you start, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead, “I really want to make this year count. I feel like it’s slipping by faster than I expected.”

“Tell me about it,” Maddie responds between breaths. “This year’s going by too fast. I’m already feeling the pressure.”

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you push yourself to do a few more sit-ups. The rhythm of the exercise gives you time to think. It’s hard not to feel the urgency of the year. College is just around the corner, and your future feels like it’s closing in. You turn to Maddie, who’s now on her last set of sit-ups. “What about you? Have you thought about college yet?”

Maddie doesn’t hesitate, pausing mid-sit-up to wipe her face with a towel. “Yeah. I’ve been saving up for it. Every extra dollar I get, I throw into the account. My dad left me some money when he passed, so I’m trying to use that for school too. But it’s tough, you know?”

You nod, surprised at how open she’s being. “That’s really impressive, Maddie. I’m still not sure what I want to do, but I know I have to figure it out soon.”

She gives you a knowing look. “I get it. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do yet, but I’m planning to go somewhere close to home. Maybe study something with business or accounting. Something that’ll help me get a job right away, you know?”

You smile softly, feeling a mixture of admiration and unease. “I’m excited for it… but also really nervous. I think about college all the time, but it feels so far away and yet right around the corner. I’m not ready to talk about it yet, though.”

Maddie raises an eyebrow. “I get it. It’s a lot to think about. And the pressure of everything else doesn’t make it easier. But you’ll figure it out. We always do.”

You nod, trying to push away the nervous feeling in your stomach. Maddie’s optimism helps, but you can’t ignore the reality of it all. Junior year’s the year you need to lay the groundwork. But what if it’s too much? What if you can’t keep it all together?

You settle into a steady pace with Maddie, your body working hard but the conversation flowing easily. But the noise around you never really fades—Xavier and Nicole are off to the side, walking around the gym, their voices raised slightly as they chat, and it’s clear that they’re standing way too close for Maddie’s liking. Her eyes narrow as they exchange some private joke, her expression twisting with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

You catch Maddie’s glance, and she doesn’t even need to say anything. Her eye roll says it all. “God, they’re so…much,” she mutters under her breath, pushing herself up for another sit-up with a huff.

“What, Xavier and Nicole?” you ask, trying to keep your focus on the sit-ups but equally distracted by their proximity.

“Yeah,” she sighs, glancing at them again. “They act like they’re the only ones in this gym. Whatever. I don’t even care anymore.”

You can tell that she does care—her posture shifts, a little tension in her shoulders as she watches them. But instead of saying more, she focuses on finishing the set. You follow suit, trying to keep your mind focused on the exercise, but it’s hard when the drama in the room is practically palpable.

Meanwhile, a few of the football players are in the far corner, clearly trying to outdo each other. They’re lifting weights, grunting loudly as if they’re the strongest people on Earth. You can’t help but chuckle at how they’re all overcompensating, trying too hard to look impressive in front of each other. It’s so obvious that Maddie rolls her eyes again, muttering under her breath, “It’s just gym class. Calm down, guys.”

You can’t stop laughing at Maddie’s bluntness. “I don’t know, Maddie. Maybe they’re just trying to get that extra rep in for the big game.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sure, for the game that’s months away.” She pushes herself up again, clearly done with the theatrics of it all. “They’re just showing off to make sure they look like the biggest, baddest guys in the room.”

You laugh quietly to yourself, enjoying Maddie’s dry humor, even if it’s laced with some genuine frustration. You notice a couple of football players glancing over at her, probably catching the eye roll, and they straighten up a little, trying to look even more impressive. It’s laughable, but you keep it to yourself, deciding to keep the mood light.

“You’re the only one who can put those guys in their place without even saying a word,” you tease, smiling at her.

Maddie half-smiles, though it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not trying to fight the whole football team today. Just trying to get through gym class.” She sets her focus back on her sit-ups, looking more determined than before.

You both keep going, your breaths becoming more labored as you near the end of your set. The noise around you fades again, but every now and then, you catch snippets of Xavier and Nicole’s conversation. He’s leaning in a little too close, his voice low and smooth. Nicole laughs softly at something he says, and Maddie grits her teeth, her frustration mounting as she watches them.

“Okay, no more glancing over there,” she mutters to herself, but it’s clear that the tension is building, like the weight in the air is making it hard for her to focus. “I’m just gonna finish these sit-ups and not think about anything else,” she grumbles, giving a final push for a set of ten.

You both collapse onto your backs at the same time, exhausted but satisfied. For a moment, you just lie there, the sound of gym class washing over you, the voices of students mingling with the occasional loud slap of a basketball on the court. The space feels bigger when you’re able to zone out from the distractions.

When you sit up again, Maddie stretches her arms over her head, the tension from her shoulders slowly fading. You smile at her, pushing yourself into a seated position too.

“Hey, if you want, we can go grab smoothies after this,” you suggest casually, trying to shift the mood. “We deserve it.”

Maddie shoots you a side-eye. “Only if you’re buying. I’m definitely not spending my last few dollars on a smoothie.”

You laugh, leaning forward to grab your water bottle. “Deal. You’ve earned it.”

As the gym class continues around you, you take in the familiar sights—the football players still trying way too hard to impress each other, Xavier and Nicole now walking across the gym, their closeness practically irritating Maddie from where she sits. The hum of the gym class is like background noise to you as you turn back to Maddie, feeling a little more settled now that the momentary tension from earlier has passed.

It’s then that you let your mind wander back to the topic of college. It’s so close, and you can feel the weight of the decision already pressing on your chest, but for now, you push those thoughts aside, deciding to take it one step at a time. There’s enough to think about with junior year already. College can wait—for now.

Claire Zolinski, stands in the hallway, lowers her voice to a near whisper as she talks to a couple of her fellow cheerleaders. They’re gathered near the lockers, their backs turned to the rest of the students passing by, so they can have their conversation in peace.

Claire’s posture is cool and collected, but there’s a glimmer of something sharp in her eyes. She leans against the lockers, arms crossed, a sly smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she talks.

“You know,” she begins, her voice low but confident, “I gave the other team the setlist. The songs for sectionals. You should’ve seen the look on their faces when they realized they were doing the exact same set as those idiots.”

The cheerleaders she’s speaking with, Jenna and Katie, exchange amused glances. Jenna raises an eyebrow, her blonde ponytail swishing as she turns to Claire.

“You really did that?” Jenna asks, her tone equal parts impressed and curious. “Did you think that would mess them up?”

“Oh, definitely,” Claire says, a smug laugh escaping her lips. “I knew it would throw them off, especially with how cocky they’ve been lately. The show choir’s been getting a little too confident, don’t you think? And if they’re anything like their leader”—Claire’s lips twist as she says it—“they’ll start scrambling to figure out what went wrong. They don’t have the organization to recover from something like that.”

Katie, the more skeptical of the two, crosses her arms and looks at Claire with a thoughtful expression. “Is that really enough, though? I mean, you’ve been making things pretty hard for them, but they still have a club. What if they pull together?”

Claire shrugs nonchalantly, her eyes glinting with a kind of cold certainty. “They don’t have enough people to pull it off. They barely have enough to even compete. The only reason they’ve made it this far is because of sheer luck. I’m not worried about it. Show choir’s a joke, and I don’t need to waste any more time with them.”

Jenna and Katie exchange uncertain glances, but Claire’s demeanor is so calm and assured that it’s hard to argue with her. Claire shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her voice turning dismissive.

“I’m not planning anything else. There’s nothing else to be done. They’ve got no support, and they won’t make it much further with half the members they need. Besides, I’ve already done more than enough to shut them down. There’s nothing else they can do to recover.”

The other two cheerleaders seem satisfied with this explanation, nodding in agreement. But as they begin to walk away, Claire lingers, staring down the hall where the show choir students walk by, her gaze hard and calculating.

“You know,” she mutters under her breath, “maybe I’ll be a little more proactive next time.”