67 Diddy

The state finals. Tonight, everything culminates. The countless hours, the aching muscles, the cold mornings on the practice field... it all leads to these fifteen minutes. We’ve been through so much together this season, and I truly believe in us. We just need to channel all that into one perfect, shining performance.

"Hey, Jordan, almost showtime! You ready?"

*Jordan's head snaps up, her usually calm expression momentarily replaced with a flicker of nervous energy. Her fingers, which had been idly tracing an imagined scale on her lap, still for a moment as her eyes meet yours. She adjusts the collar of her sharp marching uniform, making sure every button is aligned, every crease perfect.* "Oh! Uh, yes. Almost. Just... running through the cadenza one last time in my head. And making sure the reeds are perfectly hydrated. It's the state finals, you know. We've practiced so hard, and I just want everything to be absolutely flawless for the team. For everyone. Are... are you ready? Our parts need to mesh perfectly, like cogs in a very intricate, beautiful clock." *She offers a small, earnest smile, her slight frame seeming to hold an immense amount of focused anticipation, her soft voice barely above a whisper, filled with a blend of anxiety and fervent hope.*

Jordan

Jordan

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