The courtyard of Midtown High buzzed with energy long before the first chord was played.
Rows of temporary lights hung above the open space like a web of glowing stars, cables stretching from the stage to the nearby school building. The late afternoon sun spilled warm light across the courtyard, reflecting off metal barricades and instrument stands.
Hundreds of students crowded around the performance area. Some sprawled lazily across the grass with drinks and bags of chips. Others pressed tightly against the barricades near the stage, phones already raised to record. Clusters of teachers stood along the sides of the courtyard, trying and mostly failing to maintain order.
Near the front, a long judging table had been set up. Three teachers and two guest judges sat behind it with clipboards, score sheets, and small microphones resting beside bottled water. Behind them sat a portable mixing station where two audio students nervously adjusted sliders and cables. Two towering speakers flanked the stage, and above everything a huge banner fluttered gently in the breeze.
MIDTOWN SCHOOL FESTIVAL — BAND SHOWDOWN
The host climbed onto the stage and tapped the microphone. THUMP. The sound echoed through the courtyard. He grinned at the massive crowd.
"Alright everyone!" The microphone carried his voice across the entire space. "Let's hear some noise!"
The courtyard erupted. Students whistled, stomped their feet, and shouted wildly toward the stage. The host laughed, clearly pleased.
"That's what I'm talking about!" He raised a hand dramatically. "First band of the day — The Electric Wolves!"
Four students rushed onto the stage in a scramble of cables, guitars, and drumsticks. Their sound check started immediately. A sharp SCREEEECH of feedback tore through the speakers and students near the front covered their ears. One guitarist twisted the knobs on his amplifier frantically while the drummer tapped his sticks impatiently and the bassist tested a low note that vibrated through the stage floor.
Finally the chaos settled. Then the music started.
A fast punk rhythm exploded through the courtyard. The drummer launched into a rapid beat while the guitarist jumped forward strumming aggressively. Students near the barricades began jumping and clapping along, a small circle pit forming near the front.
Backstage, Jack watched with his arms folded. "Not bad."
Beside him, Peter carefully peeked through the stage curtain, his face pale. "I'm going to pass out."
MJ laughed and nudged him with her elbow. "You haven't even gone on stage yet."
Gwen stood a few steps away listening carefully, arms crossed and head tilted slightly as she analyzed the performance. "They're rushing the tempo."
Jack nodded. "Yeah. They'll lose points for that."
At the judges' table, two teachers leaned closer while writing notes. One judge tapped his pen thoughtfully against the score sheet.
After three minutes the song ended with a loud crashing chord. The crowd applauded politely.
"Give it up for The Electric Wolves!" the host called. "Next band — Crimson Drive!"
Another group hurried onto the stage, far more organized than the first — matching black jackets, clean equipment, confident posture. Their song began slower, a heavy alternative rock rhythm rolling across the courtyard like distant thunder. The lead singer stepped forward, his voice strong and steady through the speakers. The crowd reacted louder this time, several students raising their phones to record.
Backstage, Peter swallowed. "…We're doomed."
Jack chuckled. "Relax. We're not the worst band here."
Backstage grew more crowded as the event continued. One band argued quietly about their guitar tuning. Another group rehearsed their chorus under their breath. A nervous bassist tapped his foot repeatedly while staring at the stage like it might explode. Meanwhile the judges whispered among themselves, occasionally pointing at score sheets.
Performance after performance followed. Each band brought something different — indie rock, garage rock, pop-punk. Some were surprisingly good. Others were painfully off-key. The crowd reacted honestly, giving loud cheers for great performances and awkward hesitant clapping for the bad ones.
Jack glanced at the performance list taped to the backstage wall. Their band name sat near the bottom.
Neon Skyline — 9th Performance
Right above it: Midtown Crushers.
Jack nodded toward the stage. "Looks like they're right before us."
Peter groaned loudly. "Perfect."
A stage assistant walked backstage holding a clipboard. "Midtown Crushers!"
Flash immediately stood. His band grabbed their instruments with the easy confidence of people who believed they were about to win. Flash adjusted his guitar strap and glanced back toward Jack with a smug smile.
"Try to keep up."
Jack shrugged casually. "Break a leg."
Flash snorted and walked toward the stage. The moment he stepped under the lights the crowd reacted instantly — several students shouted his name, others clapped and whistled.
"Next up — Midtown Crushers!" the host announced.
Flash grabbed the mic. "You ready Midtown?"
The courtyard roared. "YEAHHHH!"
The band launched into their song. Heavy modern rock exploded from the speakers. Flash was actually a strong guitarist, his fingers moving quickly across the strings while the drummer hammered out a powerful rhythm. The bassist moved across the stage confidently, engaging the crowd like a professional. Students near the front jumped and clapped along.
Jack watched carefully. "…They're good."
Peter looked like he might faint. "We're dead."
MJ rolled her eyes. "Relax. They're good. But not amazing."
Gwen listened closely. "They're playing safe — simple structure, crowd-pleasing riffs."
Jack nodded. "Which means the judges might not love it."
The song ended with a dramatic guitar slide. The crowd roared. Flash raised his arms proudly like he had already won. At the judges' table, pens scratched across score sheets.
Flash returned backstage wearing a confident grin and looked straight at Jack. "Good luck beating that."
Jack lifted his guitar and rested it on his shoulder. "Watch us."
The stage assistant stepped forward again. "Next band!" He checked the list. "Neon Skyline!"
Peter froze. "Oh no."
MJ clapped once. "Showtime."
Gwen lifted her guitar and took a slow breath. "Let's go."
Jack adjusted his guitar strap and the four of them walked toward the stage lights together.
As they stepped onto the stage the crowd leaned forward curiously, students whispering among themselves. "Who are they?" "New band?"
Peter sat behind the drums gripping his sticks tightly. MJ adjusted the keyboard stand. Gwen stepped up to the microphone. Jack took position beside her.
The host smiled at the audience. "Our next band is a new one — Neon Skyline!"
Some students clapped. Others simply waited, watching.
Gwen glanced at her teammates. "Ready?"
Jack nodded. Peter inhaled slowly. MJ smiled.
Gwen began the count. "Three. Two. One."
Peter slammed the drums. Jack's guitar roared to life.
And in that moment, the entire courtyard turned toward the stage.
Neon Skyline had begun.
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