_Header illustration by Erica Lahaie[ ](http://twitter.com/geshgav)_Welcome to the Waypoint High School Class of 2016 Yearbook. We're giving out senior superlatives to our favorite games, digging into the year's biggest storiesvia extracurriculars , and following our favorite characters through their adventures together infanfic. See you in 2017!
"This is a disaster," Wrench hissed, leaning closer over the table. "What the hell even is this music? This sounds like some shit they play in retirement homes on bingo nights."
"It's Roy Orbison," Marcus said miserably into his cup of punch.
"Who the fuck is Roy Orbison? Why do you even know that, Marcus?"
"D'you think they'd let us play something else? Like, maybe if we asked real nicely?" Lena suggested, trying her best to flash the group an optimistic smile for about two seconds before putting her head down on the table. Silence didn't quite overtake them—"Pretty Woman" was still droning over the loudspeakers, and there were faint murmurs of conversation throughout the gym—but it definitely tried to.
Lúcio had to admit that senior prom was looking dismal. Nobody was dancing, and most of his classmates were sitting at the tables off to one side of the gym or standing around talking. The single disco ball hanging from the ceiling cast weak little sparkles around the too-bright room. Standing by the left wall, the staff and student council watched proceedings like a cast of hawks. On the opposite side of the room, Guzma moved toward one of the decorative balloons and the student council president swiveled his head to stare him down with a terrifying pinpoint glare. Guzma quickly scuttled back to where he was.
"Okay, you know what—hell no," Lúcio said, a familiar mischievous gleam in his eyes. With a start, Lena's head perked up off the table to look at him. 'Hell' was as close to a cuss as he got, and he reserved it for special occasions—like when he was about to get in trouble. "We are not spending our senior prom like this. C'mon, guys, we can make something happen. Marcus, I've seen what you can do just with your phone. We've gotta do something about this music."
After a moment's consideration, during which Lúcio could practically see the gears turning in his friend's head, Marcus nodded, his expression coming to life the way it always did when he had a particularly good idea. "You know what, yeah. I can definitely fix the music," he said with a grin, pulling his phone out of his suit pocket.
Wrench clenched his fists. `_´, his mask read. "I did not put on a fucking suit for this," he said, "I'll do something about the lights."
"You do look great in the suit, though," Marcus added, not looking up from his furious tapping on his phone.
"Thanks, babe. The problem is… " Wrench said, casting a shifty-eyed ¬_¬ over his shoulder at the staff. The President and his right-hand woman had taken to haranguing a couple who'd started to dance for not leaving enough space between them. The student council president, with his broad shoulders and well-kept dark hair, would have been a total heartthrob if he wasn't such an unbelievable jackass. His handsome looks were wasted on frowning at everyone from behind his glasses. His lieutenant—who everyone just called the Nerd because holy shit was she ever a nerd—wasn't much better. A small, pretty blonde with a killer fashion sense, she was far too busy keeping her nose in the air to even notice the longing gazes of her admirers.
Wrench clenched his fists. `_´, his mask read.
Lena perked up. "Oh! I can help there! Mr. Wilhelm and Ms. Amari are total softies," she said, pointing at the two staff members standing by the gym wall attempting to make eyes at one another. "Pretty sure even they're not happy with how zealous the President and the Nerd are being with the rules. And I can distract those two, no problem. I'll figure something out!" Her grin was back in full force, devious and cheerful. She stood up from her seat, smoothing out her sparkly orange minidress. "Good thing I wore flats! Ready to move?"
!_!, read Wrench's mask.
Related, from Waypoint: Check out our Meanest Girls fanfic, featuring Amelie from Overwatch and Emily Kaldwin from Dishonored 2.
"Wait wait hold on no no, we don't eve—" Marcus started, but Lena was already bounding toward the student council members, her skirt flouncing as she went. "I'll go help Lena…make sure she doesn't get us all kicked out. You two get ready," Lúcio said, chasing after the energetic girl before either of the others could get a word in. Marcus and Wrench looked at each other. "While we wait," Wrench said, propping his chin in his hands and making a starry-eyed *_* at his date, "you were saying how hot I look in this suit?" "Why is everyone so eager to… to… 'grind' on each other in public?" the Nerd asked, disgust oozing off of every syllable as she watched the room, flipping her blonde braid back over her shoulder. "It's disgusting. It's barely even dancing." The President unfolded his arms only to adjust his glasses, and had been about to open his mouth when a fluorescent orange blur skidded to a halt in front of the pair. "Hiya! Great party n' all that, really loving it, anyway, enough chit-chat. Did you know Avery and Mason are just completely going at it in the girl's locker room? Like, full-on banging," Lena said, watching the color rapidly drain from both of their faces. "What?!" the Nerd screeched, hands moving to grasp at her necklace. "But—but—the custodians should have locked them and—"
Lúcio sidled up next to Lena, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "Wow, the noises I just heard coming from the guy's locker room. I dunno what the hell Zen and Jumin are even doing in there, but seriously, that-""Oh my GOD." The President and the Nerd spoke in unison. Both took off running in the directions of the men and women's locker rooms, each trailed by one of the very helpful students who brought these illicit liaisons to their attention. Lúcio turned briefly to give a thumbs up to Marcus before skipping off. Wrench's synthesized voice bounced off the bathroom tiles as he mumbled, "This isn't as glamorous as I envisioned it in my head."
"We're hacking a high school gymnasium PA system," Marcus said, still tapping away on his phone, and Wrench paused his own tapping for a moment to admire the way his eyebrows knit together while he was concentrating. "The whole point is that we're about to make everything glamorous."
"This isn't as glamorous as I envisioned it in my head."
"I wanted lasers and smoke and a Bond girl or something. Lights are ready whenever you are." "I could be a Bond girl," Marcus said, his smile warming up his voice. "Music's ready too. Just gotta wait for a text from- oh, there it is. Ready?" "That's a nice mental image," Wrench said. His mask had been getting a lot of use out of the ^_^ emote tonight. "Okay, lights in 3, 2, 1…" Both of them gave their phones a final tap.
Out in the gym, the lights went out, and there was a brief moment of panic before they were replaced with the ceiling spotlights generally reserved for sports games, swirling and moving in a rainbow of color. The music faded, and the dulcet tones of Hasselhoff were replaced with an infectiously danceable, catchy beat.
Lúcio's smile was so wide it made his cheeks hurt. They were playing his album.
"I think we just saved prom," he shouted to Lena as he spun her on the newly packed dance floor. "They are not gonna be happy when we let them out of the locker rooms, though."
"Future Lena can deal with that!" she laughed, waving to Marcus and Wrench as they rejoined the group. "Right now, Present Lena is finally gonna ask Amélie to dance!" And she was gone again.
Marcus fist-bumped Lúcio with his free hand—the other was busy holding his boyfriend's. "Nice work, man." "Hey, you too. Great music choice, if I do say so myself." Wrench's mask flashed to question marks, bright in the darkness of the dance floor. "Wait—what happened to the actual staff chaperones?" "Don't worry about it," Lúcio said. "M-Miss Amari, I will have the door off its hinges in no time!" Reinhardt said, thankful that she couldn't see how red his cheeks were in the cramped storage closet. "Rest assured, we will be out of here and I will see to it that those—those rapscallions are reprimanded!"
Ana Amari sighed and smiled, gently laying her head against the man's chest and trying not to laugh at the way he instantly went completely still. "Well, you don't have to go breaking it down just yet. Let them have some fun, Wilhelm. Make some memories." She looked up, raising one eyebrow. "Or are you so eager to be rid of me?" He was not.