Megatropolis High School, the morning after the Siren struck. It was a Monday, the start of a new week. Three boys walked up to the front of the school. One was a blond, one had black hair, and the third was a redhead. The three of them carried guitar cases. They were a band, and they called themselves the Low Keys, at least until they could think of a better name. They were looking at a sign on the wall, advertising a school dance. They needed a band to perform, and auditions were all that week.
"This is our chance to make it big, fellas," the blond, Coiley Collins, said.
He was the lead singer of the group.
"I just hope we get the gig," Fluey McAlister, the black-haired one, said, taking his guitar out of the case. "We need all the exposure we can get!"
"Especially since we're not too popular in this school," Multi Mills, the redhead, replied. "The kids don't like us."
"I can't imagine why, though," Fluey said, shrugging. The Low Keys walked into the school and down the hall.
The other kids just stared at them, as usual. The Low Keys weren't that different from the other kids. They liked rock and roll music, pizza, and had a thing for girls, like all sixteen-year-old boys. They couldn't figure out what the other kids didn't like about them. Multi thought it was the way the boys looked. For one thing, Coiley was short, and on the round, chubby side. Fluey was taller than Coiley, but still shorter than the average sixteen-year-old boy, and also had a slightly round build (but he was thinner than Coiley).
Multi was the tallest of the three, but not too much taller than Fluey (both were much taller than Coiley). He was skinny, and his hair usually hung in his eyes. That was another thing about them. All three boys had 1960's haircuts.
Coiley's was sort of a Young Rascals or Lovin' Spoonful 'do, Fluey had somewhat of a Beatle haircut, and Multi's hair . . . . well, his hairdo could very well define the words mop top. One girl once told him the last time she saw a hairdo like that, it was on an old English sheepdog.
Another thing about the boys was that they were smart. Not super smart, or on a genius level, but smart enough to get good grades. They were also athletic.
Coiley was on the track team, Fluey was on the swim team, and Multi was on the volleyball team. They excelled in those, as well as math, science, and English.
Despite the fact that the three of them were good looking, no girl at school would give them a second thought. Everybody thought they were too perfect. They didn't know their lives outside of school. Coiley was constantly in the shadow of his two older sisters (who were twenty-seven and twenty-three), Multi's parents had been divorced since he was four, and Fluey lived with his aunt and uncle after his mother abandoned him, and his father could not be located. They weren't perfect, but the kids at school didn't care. To them, the Low Keys were perfect, and they hated it.
Anyway, the boys walked along the hall, glancing at the rest of the kids staring at them, pointing, and whispering.
"I wish they wouldn't do that," Multi said.
"Man, this is a drag," Fluey groaned. "Every day they do this to us."
"Don't worry about it, fellas," Coiley said. "We'll win 'em over after we win the band contest."
"I hope so," Multi said. "Speaking of which, when's our audition?"
"Wednesday after school," Coiley replied.
"Wednesday's sports day, so it's not like a regular school," Fluey said, stopping at his locker. "We've all got to show up for our teams. Hey, I'll see you guys later."
"Bye," Multi said, heading for his locker. Coiley did the same. The three of them weren't in many classes together, only Chemistry and History. The boys separated, at least until third period, which was chemistry.
The day went on as usual. The boys sat in their classes, listened to lectures, took notes, that sort of thing. Other kids practically fell asleep during the classes. Chemistry came along. The teacher, Mr. Arnold, lectured about an experiment that the class would perform the next day.
"Maybe we'll get to blow up the school!" the captain of the football team, Matt "Ox" Donahue, called out. Half the kids laugh.
"You guys wonder why they call him Ox?" Coiley asked.
"He's got the same size brain as an ox," Multi muttered. Too true. Ox was about as dumb as they come, but he was big and strong, hence why he was the captain of the football team. The bell rang finally. The Low Keys headed for Fluey's house, in order to practice. The three of them took their guitars into the basement, plugged them into a couple of amplifiers and started to practice. Fluey's uncle, Peter Cartwell, didn't mind the music, since he's a musician himself. His wife, Valerie, walked over to him, since he was listening to the boys practice.
"Sound good?" she asked.
"Yep," Peter said. "They're a shoe in for the band contest."
"I'll admit they're good, but I don't think you should get their hopes up, Peter."
"I know, and I won't. But I think they're a shoe in."
Valerie shrugged and listened along with Peter. The boys practiced for the entire afternoon. After awhile, they finally climbed up the stairs, carrying the guitar cases.
"You guys sounded great," Peter said. "You're a shoe in for the contest!"
"Peter!" Valerie shouted, nudging him in the ribs.
"It's okay, Aunt Valerie," Fluey said. "I know we shouldn't get our hopes up, but I have a feeling that this is gonna be our big break!"
"Don't bet on there being a record producer there," Valerie said.
"One contest always leads to another," Coiley said. "One of these days, you'll see our name in lights. The Low Keys, live at the London Palladium."
"We have to think of a better band name though," Multi said.
"Yeah, who came up with the Low Keys anyway?" Coiley asked.
"You did," Multi and Fluey said in unison.
"Oh yeah."
School went on same as usual the next day. Chemistry class was the highlight, or so some kids thought. Mr. Arnold told the kids to get into groups and work with a set of the chemicals. Ox and the other members of the football team were going crazy, yelling around, pouring in the chemicals at any level.
"If they're not careful, they could do some serious damage," Coiley said.
"If it'll get us out of school, I'm all for whatever they do over there," Fluey said. "Chemistry is not my thing."
"Mine either," Multi replied. "These chemicals we're working with are potentially dangerous, aren't they?"
"They could be if you're not careful," Coiley replied. Multi and Fluey nodded. The three boys adjusted their safety goggles and began pouring in the chemicals. Multi picked up one of the test tubes and began to slowly pour it into the mix. However, Ox and the rest of the football team in the class chose that moment to start running around like crazy, yelling and whooping it up. Mr. Arnold was out of the room at the time. Ox ran by Multi, Coiley, and Fluey, and ended up knocking into all three of them. Multi lurched forward, and poured the chemicals in to fast.
"Watch out!" Fluey shouted.
"Multi!" Coiley yelled.
Too late. The chemicals were in, and it was one heck of a dangerous mix. It began to bubble over like crazy. That wasn't the worst of it. A couple of the other kids ran over to see what was going on with the chemical mix.
"What did you guys do?" one girl asked.
"Mess up," Fluey said. "What's it look like?"
"So you guys aren't perfect after all, huh?" a boy asked.
"Looks like it," Coiley said with a shrug.
"Well, what do you know?" a girl who was on the cheerleading team said. She accidently knocked another one of the chemicals into the mix, and that particular mix was potentially dangerous.
"Oh no!" Multi yelled.
KA-BOOM! The entire science lab blew up. Smoke flew all over the place. All the kids began talking at once, trying to get out of the hallway. It was mass confusion.
"Ox, this is all your fault!" the cheerleader shouted.
"Why me?!" Ox shouted. "They were the ones who were mixing up that junk!"
"Yeah, well if you weren't running around like a mad man . . . ." Fluey started.
"Hold it!" Multi yelled. "Who cares who's fault it was? We've got to get out of here!"
Fumes from the chemicals made it nearly impossible to breathe. Everyone was in a mad rush to get out of the lab as fast as they could. Once everybody was out, pandemonium struck. A lot of kids were coughing because of the smoke. The fire department had to be called in order to put out the fire, and clear the smoke. Needless to say, school was canceled for the rest of the day. Parents came by to pick up kids and make sure they were okay.
"How the heck did this happen?!" Peter shouted.
"A chemical spill," Fluey said, stifling a cough. He, Multi, and Coiley had been coughing their heads off since the explosion.
"At least nobody was hurt, that's the main thing," Ken Mills, Multi's father, replied.
"There may have been some slight smoke inhalation, but no one was hurt," Multi said.
"Amen to that!" Coiley's twenty-three-year-old sister, Reine (pronounced "rain"), shouted. "Boy, chemistry sure changed since I went to high school."
"It's changed a lot since I was in high school, too," Coiley's mother, Martha, replied, looking at the destroyed science wing. "We're just glad you boys got out alive!"
"All the kids did," Coiley replied.
"Hey, let's split," Fluey said. "I don't feel so good."
"Yeah, me neither," Multi replied.
"That makes it unanimous," Coiley said.
"Yeah, let's go," Valerie said. "It's been a long day." The boys agreed on that one. But little did they know their lives were about to change.

Part two