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One of the main reasons why my grandfather loved my mother, his daughter-in-law, was because she was musical. She went to Julliard on a full scholarship and graduated the top of her glass. My mother was going to travel the world from her humble beginning that was until my father saw her. My grandfather tried to warn her, or that was what he said to me anyway. He knew his son was up to no good, so the moment when my grandfather found out she was pregnant, he forced my father into marrying her.
My grandfather welcomed my mother into the family. It lasted ten years until my father started to blatantly disregard her. I didn't understand much then, all I ever did was play my violin while she played her piano. I was only five when she got me my very first violin. She smiled, telling me I was a natural. It was something that came to me so easily. I never had to try with my music. Which became my only solace when she left, leaving me alone with the asshole who I had to call father. Thankfully, I looked like my grandfather. It was more than once that people would remark how I looked nothing like my scrawny father. I was tall, lean and built just like my granddad.
“Tell your father to stop with his idiotic nonsense. I cannot understand his feelings on inadequacies. Does he honestly think I will make you stop playing your violin?” my grandfather said angrily. He was referring to the fact that my father had broken all of my violins. He said it was unnecessary for me to lose myself in a make-believe world of music. That I should focus on business.
He hated the sound of any and all musical things, especially after he threw out my mother, and a few months later, came home with someone who would become my stepmother. When he did that, my grandfather held a family meeting stating my father would not be his successor; rather I would be the one to takeover. Man, did I laugh when I saw my father’s face fall. So since then, he thought he would and could control me; that I would be his puppet as he continued to rule our businesses while pulling my strings.
“I don't bother with him anymore,” I said gruffly as I reached for my new violin and felt the varnished wood. I plucked the strings. They were tuned perfectly.
“You like it?” Grandfather asked as he looked down at me.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said as I continued to stare at my newly acquired instrument.
“Good! Now get your ass up and get to school. You already missed first period,” he barked as he playfully slapped the back of my head.
****
I dreaded school. No, I hated it actually. Fuckers, who thought they could act tough around me, irritate me to no end, because the moment I stepped up to them, they crumbled like little pussies. I laughed as I treated them badly and they wouldn't do a fucking thing to stop me. Not one, until Darren Sparks, that asshole stood up to my constant attacks. Man, he gained my respect. Something about him made me want him to like me. He didn’t care about anyone. All he wanted was to get ahead in life and make money. The guy was smart and hungry, so I had no choice but to respect him. We were friends since freshman year.
I dragged my feet as I headed into my third period history class. The teacher was already in the middle of his lecture as I walked in. The class went mute as I made my way to my seat. Even the teacher stopped as he watched me.
“Well?” I said to him as I waved my hand at him to continue. “The rest of the class is very interested in world history, so why don’t you continue to enlighten us?” I said dismissively as I settled into my seat, looking out the window.Class ended, and I had to yet again, drag myself to another class. I sat there waiting until everyone left. I stretched out my leg from underneath my desk, tripping a girl in my class. She fell hard, her books falling a few feet away. Shit, I thought as I looked down at her. She didn't once look up as she gathered her stuff together. I wanted to help her, say sorry, but she ran out of the class. I knew I had my reputation, but fuck, man. I stood up to leave. Fucking geography was next. I stepped forward, my foot hitting a folded piece of paper. I picked it. Maybe I could give it her, I thought as I examined it. I turned it over to see my name written in a cute, bubbly writing. I smirked as I sat back down and opened it up.
