#sorry i have no idea about music terminology but erm

[automatonknight]

my gg song experience has been that i listen to a new track and i go mhm. really fun :] ok back to other stuff and then 4 hours later it’s WHEN THE UNIVEEEERSEEEE TURNEEED BLAAACK DID THE SUN EVER DEFY FAAAAATEEE. BEYOND IT ALL. DO YOU RECOGNIZEEE MEEEEEE<for the next 3 days at least

[kykru-blog]

Let’s Face The Music And Dance - Chapter 2

Or, the second part of that Acapella AU that nobody asked for.

Read the first chapter here.

Clarke had already told the others they were to be at rehearsals on Saturday, bright and early at 8am. They hadn’t confirmed Bellamy at that point, but she had been ever confident that she would get the voices they needed this year, and it had paid off.

She’d been at the auditorium since 7.30am, organising her sheet music, checking the piano was tuned in case they needed it for pitching, and generally marking out spots for choreography.

The first to arrive was Murphy, of all people, looking suspiciously alert and ready to go.

“You’re early,” she deadpanned from the stage when his silhouette made its way down the central aisle and towards her.

His form shrugged and lopped over a few rows of seating as he made a beeline for where she was pacing out marks downstage left.

“Anywhere’s better than being at home, even at 7am.”

Sometimes Murphy was alarmingly honest.

Clarke paused for a moment, unsure what to say, so instead she nodded soberly and held out the multitude of coloured tape in her hand.

“You can help me with this if you like,” she offered.

He took her up on her offer until Miller and Raven arrived. They sauntered in, looking much too worse for wear, both wearing sunglasses - clearly hungover - and Miller with his shirt collar rolled back the wrong way.

“Clarke Griffin,” Raven yelled halfheartedly across the small auditorium. “My first official act this year as President is to cancel all rehearsals before 10am.”

“Motion denied,” Clarke told her without missing a beat, and climbed down from the stage to meet them at the front of the stalls.

“Seriously,” Miller complained. “8am?”

“It’s the only time nobody else wanted. We’ve got to be out by ten for the Shakespeare group.”

“Did you ever consider,” Raven grumbled as she threw her bag into the aisle of the first row of seats. “That nobody wanted this time because it was too damn early.”

“I did,” Clarke made no effort to sound less unapologetic. “But it’s ours for the rest of the year, so stop complaining Reyes and warm up those vocal chords of yours.”

She turned back to organise her paperwork, handing stacks to Murphy to look over, so Raven took that as her cue to wander off towards the piano as Monty, Jasper and Harper made an appearance through the back door.

“Hi guys!” Harper, at least, was excited to be there. “First rehearsal of the season!”

Jasper bounded down the aisle a few steps behind her and Monty, heading towards Miller as they wandered towards Clarke.

“There’s coffee and bagels downstage right,” Clarke greeted them. “We’re starting in fifteen.”

She heard Raven exclaim, “Coffee? Why didn’t you say so before!” as they all clambered towards the free breakfast she had laid out on top of the piano.

Because she was organising her paperwork, she heard Bellamy’s voice before she saw him.

“—don’t need to come with me, O,” he was grumbling in his trademark deep voice. “I’m older than you, you know.”

“I just want to make sure this is for real and you’re not hiding a secret affair with a teacher or something,” a female voice mocked him and floated down the aisle towards her from the door off to the left of the stage. It led directly out onto a parking lot so the sunlight filtered in for a brief moment before it was closed behind the Blakes.

He was wearing a plain blue t-shirt and jeans, his sister in a white bodycon dress, black tights and white trainers. The resemblance between the two of them was uncanny. They shared a ridiculously beautiful set of genes, alright. Clarke was pretty certain she was attracted to the both of them. Then again, from what she’d heard, half the school was already in love with Octavia or Bellamy Blake, so she was in good company.

“Blake,” Miller called in greeting from his position crowding round the breakfast. He waved a hand then went back to chatting with Monty.

Bellamy reached Clarke as he waved back to Miller and leaned against the raised platform of the stage, hands in his pockets as he surveyed what she was doing.

“Hey Clarke.”

She smiled up at him. “Hi Bellamy, I’m glad you could make it.”

“I’m glad I could too,” he said and watched her pensively for a moment whilst she focused on her sheet music.

Octavia made a noise which startled him out of his reverie. “Oh, right, erm, this is my sister, Octavia. You sort of met before.”

“Nice to officially meet you, Octavia,” Clarke said politely, making an effort to focus on them both instead of the paperwork in front of her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join your acapella group,” Octavia opened with. “But I’m not changing my mind just because you’ve got Bell now.”

She could only blink at Octavia for a second, caught off-guard by her blunt words.

Octavia wasn’t rude, but she was defensive, and Clarke knew that mix all too well. She decided to take it for what it was - an abrasive personality and nothing personal.

“That’s ok,” she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. “We didn’t want him for you, we wanted him anyway.”

Octavia grinned and slapped her brother teasingly on the arm. “They need you, Bell. See, I told you you could have a life without me.”

He rolled his eyes, embarrassed by his little sister. “O, please, stop talking.”

“Well, I guess I best get going then,” she announced cheerily. “Don’t want to snoop on the competition.”

And then she bounded away, back out the side door and into the sunlight.

After a brief moment, Clarke made eye contact with Bellamy.

“She’s…” She searched for the right word.

“Opinionated?” Bellamy supplied, an amused smile playing at his lips. He took some of the sheet music from the top of Clarke’s pile and pretended to peruse it. “Assertive? Feisty? Trust me, I’ve had all the synonyms.”

“Confident,” Clarke laughed as she plucked the music back from him. “I was going to say confident.”

He laughed out a quick bark, so loudly that the others glanced over to see what was going on. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Clarke finally burst their bubble, self conscious now that they were being watched. “We’ve got a lot of work to do before sectionals.”

Initial rehearsals were slow. They managed to tune a lot of their voices and work out who sounded best with who, and agree on a lot of ideas, but nothing concrete was planned by the end of their first two sessions. Clarke proposed that they each do some research on songs that they could work on, and they agreed to look for three in total - two sung by a mixture of the entire group and one solo ballad.

They weren’t overly worried about sectionals, now that they had a range of tone, but they still wanted to be prepared. And they still wanted to put on a good show.

Bellamy and Harper had settled in to the group almost seamlessly. Harper wasn’t very good with technical terminology and Bellamy was a little clumsy on his feet, but overall they’d lucked out. Neither of them needed hand holding, for which Clarke was thankful. It gave her more time to plan and arrange their songs, once they’d finally agreed on them.

The week after their third rehearsal Clarke met them for lunch on the grass outside the Math block. She had been held up by a meeting with her careers advisor so they were already full-flow in the middle of a debate by the time she arrived.

Bellamy was lying on the grass off to the side, seemingly just watching the argument unfold and trying to keep up.

She bounded over and smacked Bellamy’s feet until he moved them and she could sit down in the space between him and Harper.

“What’s the poison today?” She asked him conspiratorially.

“Whether we should do musical numbers or not at sectionals,” He told her quietly as he sat up and bumped his shoulder against hers.

“Hmm,” Clarke gave a noncommittal nod of her head as she dug out her sandwich from her bag. “Who’s winning?”

Bellamy grinned. “Raven, I think.”

��What does she want?”

“Complete and total anarchy on stage.”

He wasn’t wrong, Raven seemed to be arguing just to rile up the others.

Clarke laughed. “That sounds like Raven.”

“—is all I’m saying,” Raven was arguing over the commotion as Murphy and Monty traded off song titles.

“Judges look for uniformity,” Harper pointed out. “We can’t just barrel onto stage with no plan.”

“Planning who sings which bit of songs we all hate seems completely pointless,” Raven argued.

“And that is why Clarke’s the musical director of this group and not you,” Miller reminded her.

“This isn’t rocket science, Raven, it’s just acapella,” Monty pointed out. A few of them gave mock-gasps. “It’s not that hard.”

“Oh, Monty,” Raven reached forward and pretended to caress his face. “Sweet, sweet Monty… of course this isn’t rocket science, I could do that in my sleep. Composing an arrangement for eight people? No thank you.”

“That’s why you have Clarke,” Bellamy pointed out, echoing Miller’s words.

Clarke nodded. “And I’ve decided we’re doing show tunes.”

They erupted into a bustle of commotion.

“Clarke!”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you say so before!”

“Yes!”

Clarke rolled her eyes at them all and raised her voice. “Look, we’re competing with the Grounders, and mashing up modern chart music into a kick-ass setlist is their forte. If we try to do it, we’ll just be giving the judges and audiences something exactly the same to compare our set to. If we do show tunes, we’ll be different.”

Miller wasn’t too happy about it, but they all understood where she was coming from.

“So…” Bellamy asked first. “Which ones?”

“I have a few ideas,” Clarke told them excitedly as she opened her notebook.

For the rest of lunch they discussed song options and traded off song titles from both popular and obscure musicals. Eventually, they decided on a few tentative songs, with the understanding that they could switch them up at a later date if they weren’t working.

By the time they met for their fourth rehearsal the day after, they were all committed to the two group numbers - the classic Grease Lightning to pick up people’s moods, and an emotional You Will Be Found from a more contemporary musical.

The solo was the thorn in their side.

“It should be As Long As He Needs Me from Oliver,” Monty was saying as they all lounged over seats at the back of the auditorium stalls. “It’s emotional, it’s got great vocal range, everybody knows it but it’s not over-sung.”

Murphy gently kicked him in the back of the head from where his feet had been propped up on the row of seats behind him. “Not over-sung?” He scoffed. “What world are you living in?”

Monty glared at him, so Clarke interrupted before an argument could ensue. “Ok, that’s one suggestion. Anybody else? I’m in favour of a more emotional ballad, we’ve got Grease Lightning as our gimmick already.”

“How about On My Own from Les Mis?”

“Way too over-sung,” Harper pointed out quickly.

“How about something from Newsies?”

“Just because you love that musical like nobody’s business,” Raven told Jasper bluntly. “Doesn’t mean the rest of us care about it.”

Jasper gasped and looked genuinely offended.

“It wouldn’t translate to the audience,” Clarke tried to be more reasonable. “We don't have time to explain the context. We need a song that explains itself.”

That appeased him a little, but he still glared at Raven.

“Can’t we think outside the box a little bit?” Raven asked. “I’m sick of doing the same white people show tunes every year.”

Bellamy tried not to laugh at that. His sister would like Raven.

“That’s it,” Clarke exclaimed, sitting up straighter in her seat, stopping everybody’s conversation. “I’ve got the perfect song.”

“Let me guess,” Murphy rolled his eyes. “And you’e the perfect person to sing it?”

“No,” Clarke said quickly. “Not me. Raven.”

Every eye turned to Raven. She looked as shocked as them.

“Me?” She asked, self-conscious. “I’m just here to have fun and mess around between classes, Clarke. I don’t want that responsibility.”

“Raven,” Harper began softly. “Your voice is incredible, why shouldn’t you have the chance to show it off.”

The others all nodded and murmured their agreements, which seemed to bolster Raven’s mood a little.

“Alright, what song?” She asked Clarke tentatively. “What were you thinking?”

“A modern musical classic,” Clarke told her happily. “Nina’s song from In The Heights.”

“‘Breathe’?” Raven’s eyes lit up and a slow grin spread out across her face. “That’s… perfect.”

“I know,” Clarke grinned. “And it has great potential for acapella bass notes to accompany you.”

Bellamy was smiling until he realised that meant him.

“Who, me?” He asked, alarmed, when he noticed all their faces now looking at him.

“Think about it Bellamy,” Clarke placed a hand on his forearm reassuringly. “You’ll get to use your voice but you won’t have to stand too much in the spotlight. It’s perfect for your first show.”

He seemed unsure but as soon as he made eye contact with her, he knew he was impervious to her excitement.

“Fine,” he sighed and she clapped her hands against her thighs in success. “But only because I want to keep you all happy.”

“All of us, sure,” Murphy smirked from across the row.

Bellamy glared at him whilst Clarke lobbed a roll of coloured tape at him, hitting him in the face and knocking him off his perilous perch and into the aisle. Monty and Harper helped him up off the floor once they’d finished laughing.

“Listen,” Bellamy was saying animatedly as they walked home together on a cold winters afternoon in November. “I don’t reject the notion that all Greek myths had an element of political bias to them, I’m just saying that if you believe that they were created for the sole purpose of political propaganda, you shouldn’t be teaching Ancient History.”

Clarke watched him in fascination as he worked himself up over a particularly irritating teacher whom he disagreed with almost every class. Friday afternoons were her favourite because, not only did she have the weekend and rehearsals to look forward to, but she always walked home with just Bellamy whilst Octavia was at kickboxing, and he always had Ancient History on a Friday afternoon, so each walk was a foray into the brain and inner workings of Bellamy Blake.

“—-Can you believe that?” He was asking, and then suddenly his eyes were on hers instead of the path ahead and she had to look away quickly to hide that she was staring.

“Uh huh,” she nodded vigorously to make up for it. “How… demanding.”

Bellamy surveyed her for a moment. “You weren’t listening to a word of that, were you?” He asked, but he didn’t seem to take it personally.

“I’m sorry, Bellamy” She told him. “I was thinking about how deep your voice was.”

He shot her a surprised, somewhat confused, somewhat panicked, look.

A second too late, she realised how that had sounded.

“No,” she rushed on with. “I mean, how great it is to have you this year. I mean, not that I have you, I mean, not that it’s me you— I’m making a mess of this.”

She gave up, throwing her hands out in front of her in a gesture that meant “I-give-up”.

Bellamy laughed and watched her from under his eyelashes in that serious way that made Clarke feel like he was looking into her soul. “I think I get what you mean, Clarke.”

She sighed and corrected herself. “I just meant that I’m thankful you’re a part of our group, Bellamy. We really could get to Nationals this year.”

“Let’s just try to get me through Sectionals first, ok,” he grinned, slowing to a stop as they reached the corner at the end of town where they usually parted ways. He paused, seemed to consider his next words for a moment, then added, “So, any plans this afternoon?”

“I’m meeting my mum at the hospital to organise work experience,” She turned to face him, hitching her bag higher up onto her shoulder. “So fun.”

Bellamy’s lips twitched into a small smile.

“What about you?” She asked.

He kicked the ground and seemed suddenly interested in the lines on the pavement. “I’m… er, taking O to visit our mother’s grave on Sunday.”

“Oh.”

“It’s… it’s ok,” He tried to reassure her. Clarke was always baffled by Bellamy’s selfless ability to put other’s emotional needs before his own. “We’re doing better, in a way, now that she’s gone. Seeing her ill was… god, it was terrible, but at least she’s at peace now, y’know?”

Clarke smiled sadly at him for a moment but didn’t want it to come across as pity, so she leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

When she pulled away, he was smiling without seeming to realise it, his eyes trained on hers.

“What was that for?” He asked.

“For telling me,” She told him simply. “Now, do you want to get milkshakes so I have an excuse to be late to meet my mother?”

“Definitely,” He grinned as she linked her arm through his and they turned to walk down the road together and towards the Drop Ship, their local hang out spot.

When they arrived, the snow had just begun to fall and they were freezing cold. Bellamy pulled the door open and ducked inside after Clarke, trying desperately to warm up his glove-less hands.

“How can you remember to pick up four text books on Greek Mythology on your way out the door, but you can’t remember to put gloves on?” She’d mocked him this morning.

Clarke peeled hers off her own hands as they wandered towards the counter.

“Chocolate Surprise, or Vanilla Melt?” She asked, guessing his thoughts, as she read off the specials board.

When he didn’t answer, she turned to see him standing closer than she thought and looking intently at her. His hand came up to wipe away some snow that had settled high upon her cheekbone.

They smiled tentatively at each other for a long second, until they were interrupted by Jasper.

“Hey guys!” He appeared out of nowhere, in true Jasper style. “What’s up?”

They each took half a step back as quick as a flash.

“Jasper!” Clarke greeted him quickly. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping wingman Monty with Miller,” He laughed. “Those two are so hopeless.”

“Monty likes Miller?” Clarke asked exasperated.

“Confirmed,” Jasper replied smoothly, pointing a finger gun at her. “The real question is, does Miller like Monty?”

“He does,” Bellamy answered almost immediately. They both glanced at him in surprise. “Just trust me on this one, he’s… he’s definitely into Monty.”

They both considered it for a moment, then Jasper smiled slowly.

“Excellent news,” he slapped Bellamy on the shoulder, which quickly turned Bellamy’s smile into a frown, but he was off back to their corner table before Bellamy could respond.

Clarke shook her head as they turned back to the counter. “Honestly, this group just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

“You’re telling me.”

Feel free to talk to me about this, I’m sort of digging myself into an acapella hole and I probably need to be looked after.

The next chapter will be sectionals so the pace will pick up a bit after this.

Also, I basically just inserted my own favourite musicals into this, so these likely won’t be the last In The Heights/Dear Evan Hansen/Newsies references.