(What even am I doing. But since my sketches are NOWHERE near being done, here's the beginning of a ficlet that goes along with one of the aforementioned unfinished sketches for letsdrawsherlock's musical prompt. Also, any excuse for more people to learn and love Shostakovich, hey?) Sebastian let the words fall around him. it was all shit anyway. they'd decide on a punishment, he'd lose hall rights, have detention, whatever; da would smack some sense out of him trying to smack sense into him, and in a few weeks everything would be back to normal. back to life in a shit school in a shit town with a shit family and shit- Mr Moran. Seb unfurled himself reluctantly from the chair and slid into the office at the sound of his name. you should be present, i suppose, as we discuss your pending expulsion. seb fell out of the world for a moment. expulsion? for what? lighting a cherry? everyone did that. expulsion... meant going home, staying home, with da- he clenched one hand in the other before it could start shaking. his da was near purple, now; seb heard, dimly, him ranting about expulsion being too severe for a friendly prank... the other man, a teacher seb didn't know, stopped him at that. hardly friendly. there's a boy in hospital in rather serious condition. seb? why? he shrugged. mate of mine bet me i couldn't get Pigeon away from that stupid case of his. smart folk, hear a noise, they drop their stuff in the ditch. how was i supposed to know he'd hang on like that... well. i'm short one baritone already, i can't really lose a euph as well. rather than expel the boy, let him continue, and i'll take him for the band. he'll need to attend lessons after school, which should satisfy detention, and he might learn something from the experience of being on the other side. (I did say completely unedited, right? Punctuation? Hæ?)