When Olivia said she could convince someone to lend us the music club's rehearsal room, I assumed she had a contact or was simply planning to ask for permission like any normal person. But of course, this is Olivia Hart we're talking about. So I shouldn't have been surprised when, upon arriving at the music club building, I saw her staring at the locked doors with an expression wavering between disbelief and indignation.
"What do you mean 'closed'?" she muttered to herself, as if the doors might answer her. "Rooms don't just close themselves. It's a conspiracy!"
Sack and I exchanged a quick glance. We didn't say anything, but we both knew what we were thinking: Of course they're closed, Olivia. It's six in the evening. What did you expect?
"Well," Sack said, crossing his arms as he looked at the doors with a mix of satisfaction and resignation, "it seems your 'experimental art project' will have to wait. Maybe you should've asked before assuming we could get in without a problem."
Olivia shot him a glare.
"Don't be such a buzzkill, Sack. This is just a minor setback."
"A minor setback," I repeated, arching an eyebrow. "The doors are locked, Olivia. I think that qualifies as more than a 'minor setback.'"
"Details, details," she replied. "We just need to find another way in."
"Another way?" I asked, alarmed. "Olivia, we're not breaking in. That would be… illegal."
"I'm not saying we break anything," she quickly responded, though her tone suggested otherwise. "I'm just saying there might be an open window or something. People always leave things open by accident. It's human nature."
"It's also human to get arrested," Sack muttered under his breath, but Olivia was already walking toward the side of the building, inspecting the windows as if she were a detective in an action movie.
I sighed deeply and turned to Sack.
"This isn't going to end well, is it?"
"Probably not," he replied, shrugging. "But you know how Olivia is. If we don't follow her, she'll probably try to climb the building herself. And I'd rather avoid her ending up in the hospital."
He was right, of course. When Olivia set her mind to something, it was almost impossible to stop her. So, reluctantly, I followed her to where she was trying to open a window that, to my relief, was firmly shut.
"Look!" she exclaimed triumphantly, pointing to a small gap at the bottom of the window. "It's a little loose. If we push a bit harder, it's sure to open."
"Olivia, we're not breaking a window," I said, crossing my arms. "This isn't a spy movie. If we get caught, we could get into serious trouble."
"Relax, Lindsay," she responded, though I noticed she lowered her voice. "No one's going to catch us. Besides, don't you want to practice? I thought you were excited to sing."
"And I am," I admitted. "But I don't want our first performance to be in an interrogation room."
Sack let out a small laugh but quickly stifled it when Olivia shot him a death glare.
"Fine, fine," Olivia finally said, raising her hands in surrender. "Maybe this isn't the best time to break into the music club. But don't worry, I have a Plan B."
"A Plan B?" Sack asked, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in his voice. "Please tell me it doesn't involve explosives or drones."
"Nothing like that," Olivia replied with a mischievous smile. "We can use the rehearsal room in the dorm basement. No one uses it after five, and the doors are always open. It'll be perfect."
Sack and I exchanged another glance. I knew it probably wasn't the best idea, but at least it was more legal than trying to force our way into the music club.
"Fine," I said finally. "But if anyone sees us, it wasn't my idea."
"Perfect!" Olivia exclaimed, clapping excitedly. "Now, let's go. We don't have time to waste."
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The rehearsal room in the dorm basement was small and a bit dusty, but it had the basics: an old piano, a chair, enough space to move around, and a well-kept guitar. Olivia sat down in front of the piano, adjusting the bench while Sack took the guitar out of its case. I stood there, feeling a strange knot in my stomach. Though I had sung before, I had never done it in front of others, and certainly not as part of an "improvised band."
"Alright, team," Olivia said, placing her hands on the piano keys. "It's time to decide which song we're going to play. Something epic, obviously. Something that represents us."
"Something that represents us?" Sack asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like a ballad about how Olivia tried to break into the music club and almost got us in trouble?"
"Exactly," she replied, pretending to be serious. "But with more drama. And maybe a guitar solo."
I shook my head but couldn't help smiling.
"I think we should pick something more… realistic. Something we can play without needing weeks of practice."
Olivia made a dramatic gesture with her hands.
"Relax! It doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to be… us. Now, ideas, please. I'm open to suggestions."
Sack was the first to speak.
"How about 'Wonderwall'? Everyone knows it, it's easy to play, and, well, it's a classic."
Olivia wrinkled her nose.
"Too predictable. We need something with more personality. Something that says, 'Hi, we're Olivia, Sack, and Lindsay, and we're here to impress.'"
"I don't think the goal is to impress anyone," I interjected, crossing my arms. "This is just for fun."
"Exactly," Olivia said, pointing at me triumphantly. "And nothing says fun like a friendly competition. I propose each of us sings a song we like, and then we vote on which one will be ours."
Sack arched an eyebrow.
"A competition? Are you serious?"
"Totally," Olivia replied with a mischievous smile. "That way, we all get a chance to shine. Plus, it'll be fun to see who has the best taste in music."
I bit my lip, unsure. I wasn't sure I wanted to sing alone in front of them, but Olivia was already excited about the idea, and I knew it would be hard to change her mind.
"Fine," I said finally. "But nothing too complicated. And if I don't like any of the options, I propose we look for something else."
"Deal," Olivia said, clapping excitedly. "I'll go first!"
Olivia leaned over the piano and began playing a fast, upbeat melody. It was "Don't Stop Me Now" by Queen. Her voice filled the small room, full of energy and confidence. Even though some of the piano notes weren't perfect, her performance was contagious. Sack and I couldn't help but smile as we listened to her. When she finished, she gave a small bow."Thank you, thank you," she said, pretending to be modest. "Now, who's next?"Sack sighed deeply and picked up his guitar.