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((Alessio Rigano continued from Screamer, Screamer, He's a Dreamer))

Music, music, muse-ic. Music comes from the word muse, which is also a band. And both music and Muse were subjects Alessio liked. Even if Groves was a mean one. Al himself was not often shouted at by him, but he disliked to see others getting Grove'd.

The boy walked through the West Wing to the class, with a coffee can in his hands. Better go there early, so he can calmy finish drinking and have lunch quietly. While waiting outside the room, he heard voices. Oh, was Groves in there already? No...this sounded like. Jeremy? Yeah, Jeremy from the orchestra. And music class. Better not walk in there. Maybe he's talking with Groves? Eh, it was better to go away from the door and not listen to the people in there and wait till the break finishes.

So Al sipped more coffee and waited. And then he got a catchy song in his head and silently hummed it unconsciously.
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Not My Tempo · West Wing