Chapter Text
“That’s your bright idea Raven?” Clarke asked as her roommate and best friend hauled the first of several instruments into their apartment. “We can barely afford rent but you want to ‘travel the world’ as a band?”
Raven wiped the sweat off her brow, leaning to rub at her braced leg. “Yeah, you gotta better idea to make quick cash?” She raised an eyebrow at the blonde, seeing that she was adamantly refusing to meet her eye and only grumbled ‘yeah, a job.’ “Exactly, so why don’t you let me do what I know best and fix these up.”
“There’s no space for those!” Clarke said exasperatedly, only stopping her sighs and grunts of disapproval after a pointed look from Raven to help her carry in a drum set. “I don’t think two people playing in a band with four instruments will work well on stage, Rae.”
“Well thankfully I’m a genius, so I invited a couple of people over to get this thing started.”
“Well who-” Clarke was interrupted by a knock on the door followed by a ‘let’s make a band, bitches!’ “Not Octavia. There’s no way.”
“Oh come on, Clarke! Do you know any other drummers?” Raven replied as she opened the door. “Octavia. Anya.” More sounds of protest were heard from the resident blonde as Octavia and Anya stepped into the apartment, the latter seemingly intent on not making eye contact with anyone and instead judging the eclectic mix of decorations in the living room. Octavia was much more jovial, entertaining herself by jumping behind the stack of drum pieces and inspecting them.
Clarke quickly yanked Raven into the kitchen, lowering her voice. “I don’t know what possessed you to invite them over of all people, but I want them gone.”
“What happened to the past is the past, blondie?” Raven sneered, eyeing the slight bruise Clarke had left on her arm.
“Look, are we gonna go over the details of the band or what?” Octavia rudely interrupted, again.
“We’re in college, Griffin. Let’s have some fun.” Raven moved to set up the guitar, having already designated herself the ‘band techie’.
Anya, for her sake as well as Clarke’s, had already decided that this idea of Raven’s was destined to be a flop. Though even she couldn’t help but think that it would be nice to be in a band, even if it was with her sister’s ex best friend. She began to unpack her bass, glad that she had kept it long after she’d stopped making music.
“Octavia you can’t set up the drums here! These walls are too thin!” Clarke, the self-designated band manager, ordered. If this was going down in her apartment she’d better have a say.
“Then how are we supposed to practice?” Octavia pouted.
“We aren’t practicing at all right now! What am I even supposed to be doing in this band of misfits?”
“Too bad that name’s already taken.” Anya muttered.
“Maybe vocals, Clarke?” Raven suggested mirthfully.
“Shut up.” Clarke took the mic from Raven anyway, keeping in mind to leave it off.
“Anya, you got that tuned already?” Raven asked.
“I’m pretty sure I can tune my own bass, yes.”
“Just checking, cheekbones.” Anya rolled her eyes, unwilling to let a blush come over her.
“Alright, so we need a band name.”
“Pansies.” Clarke offered.
“No!” The others chimed in quickly.
“And it won’t be art supplies either.” Raven joked.
“Wait, that actually might be good.”
“You’re not serious, O.”
“Actually, that’s a pretty alright name. But it could be supply closet.” Anya spoke.
“I’m not going in the closet again, nope.” Raven vetoed.
“Fine.”
“What about supplies and rent?”
“Where’d you get rent from?”
“Oh I dunno, maybe my job instead of some shitty band?”
“I’m personally insulted by that.”
“Of course you would be, Octavia.”
“How about Raven and the Ravenettes?”
“Or maybe Clarke and her Shitty Friends.”
“If we’re going to make a band at all we need to stop fighting each other.” Anya commanded. “Now, it’s best if we all just pick something important to us and blend the elements together.”
“Food.” Octavia added in.
“Hey no fair, that’s mine!” Raven argued.
“Well I said it first so -”
“No fighting, remember?” Anya put her hand on her head. This was going to be a long day.
The others continued to squabble between themselves until finally, Raven had an epiphany. “Alright, so Octavia’s is food, Anya’s is family, mine is my work and Clarke’s is art. What about commissioned family dinner? There’s -”
“Okay honestly Rae, I love you, but that’s the worst sounding band name ever.” Clarke said what both Anya and Octavia were thinking.
“Fine then, what’s your idea?”
“A Painted Family Car.”
“There’s no food in there.” Octavia quipped.
“Why are you here again, Octavia?”
“Famod Arcar.” Anya sighed, fed up with the other’s bullshit.
“What?” The three girls stopped bickering to stare at Anya.
“Famod Arcar, I just mashed the words together. Or it could be Folly Engart.”
“Can’t we just choose something that sounds cool instead?” Raven grumbled.
“Alright genius, any suggestions?”
“Yeah, like, the Arkers or something.”
“Or the Grounders.”
“Let’s take it to a vote, then.” Clarke raised. “All in favor of Folly Engart say aye.”
“Literally no one wants that.”
“All in opposition say nay.”
“Nay.” The group said collectively.
“Alright then, aye for the Arkers.” One ‘aye’ rang off. “And the Grounders?” The other three replied positively.
“Whatever.” Raven said dejectedly. “But I get to write the first song.”
“That’s a fair deal. So it’s decided then? We’re The Grounders and Raven gets to write the first song.”
“We can change the band name though, right?”
“If there’s a majority vote in favor of the change. We have to do things democratically here.”
“Thanks Ms. President.” Snickered Octavia, before getting jabbed in the side by Raven’s elbow.
*
“So band practice next Tuesday then? At 1:30?”
“Yep, works for me.”
“Me too.”
“I’ll bring my bass.”
“Alright then, that’s settled. See you later.”
After the couple had been escorted out, Clarke turned on her heel towards Raven. “What were you thinking?! Anya? Octavia? ”
“Look, honestly, whatever shit you three still have against each other has gotta go if this band is gonna take off.”
“What makes you think I care about the band taking off?”
“Maybe the fact that I care? Why do you think I bought all this crap, Griff?”
Clarke sighed. “Alright, Rae.”
“Good.” Raven began to unplug the amplifiers and put the cords in one of the guitar cases.
“Hey Rae?”
“Yeah?”
“When you decide to make decisions like this again,” she gestured to the amount of instruments and cables scattered through the living room, “let me know first.”
“Got it, Griff.”