Chanyeol joins them for the first rehearsal on a Tuesday much like any other. Unfortunately, they are playing Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

Which basically translates to is going to go down.

To be fair, they make it all the way to the fifth bar before calamity strikes.

“Stop,” orders Kris, whacking the podium with extreme prejudice, “Kai. You’re second violin. You don’t even get the melody until the ninth bar. So why, why are you out of your seat, making grand sweeping gestures that nearly connected your bow to the back of Luhan’s head?”

Kai is thoroughly unapologetic (much to Kris’s chagrin), “I was just feeling the music.”

Kris resists the urge to chuck his baton at the second violins, “next time, feel the music from the confines of your seat. There is no reason to be disruptive with such flashy displays.”

Taemin snickers from his seat next to Kai and the two second violinists get into a tussle that lasts a good ten minutes. After Kris manhandles them apart, he surveys the damage: Henry is cradling his violin protectively, Luhan is distraught over his bow’s untimely demise at Kai’s hands, and Sehun is crying for blood.

Kris tries very hard not to kill them all, “you two get back to your seats. If you so much as breathe out of line again, I’m going to send you packing.”

“That’s so unfair,” Sehun complains, waving his bow at Kris, “all they ever get is a warning.”

“Well, I can’t really afford to—”

“This is blatant favoritism,” Sehun accuses, “the violins always get preferential treatment. Like this piece of ,” he jabs the sheet music viciously, “I get eight lousy quarter notes ad nauseum while the violins get all the lovely melodies. For God’s sake, even the second violins get beautiful melodies—which should just not happen!”

Kai smirks at Sehun’s venomous glare, “you’re just bitter because Pachelbel saw the cello for the lame instrument it really is.”

Uttering a battle cry, Sehun abandons his cello and lunges across the viola section, trying to wring Kai’s scrawny little neck. Kai dances towards the first violins, taunting the younger boy as he goes. Someone in the back is egging both parties on and Kris feels the beginnings of a massive migraine.

“This is all your fault,” he mutters darkly at Suho, who looks on helplessly from the principal viola’s chair, “none of this would’ve happened if you’d just learn to control your kids.”

Suho sputters in protest (“but they’re not even in my section!”) but Kris has already stormed out.

“Does this mean practice is over?” Chanyeol asks optimistically.