Now I have to tell Mom and Dad what it is I really want to do with my life. I want to produce music. I want to be the person that musicians want to work with. When I think about the future – I think of creating a communal environment where the music leads us to make something one of a kind. I crave it and think about it all the time.
It’s going to be a disaster. I can hear my father telling me that I’m throwing away my life – my future – to pursue a dream. Dreams are for people who don’t live in reality. Those will be Dad’s words, and Mom will nod and shake her head and worry about what her friends will say.
Expectations. I hate them.
I love my family. I really do – but… To get love back, you have to toe the line that they set. I have seen the family turn on our own, and it’s not pretty. I had an uncle named Oliver who fell in love with an acrobat and joined the circus. It wasn’t like he ever had to work – not really. But his decision started a chain reaction in the family. Oliver isn’t invited to dinners or holidays – weddings even. It’s like he doesn’t exist except as a warning.
What will they say to me? Will I be treated the same way? I don’t know – but I worry about it until my stomach gets tied up in knots, and I can’t fall asleep at night. I try to be as fucking zen as possible – but I don’t want to lose them to live my own life and make my own decisions about what’s best for me.
Expectations. I hate them.
I’m twenty-one years old and a third-year junior. I’ve yet to declare a major and have gotten to the point where I have almost no general education or electives left to take. How many times can I take tennis to have enough semester hours to be full-time? Apparently, that answer is 6, as I have taken it every semester and now have a marvelous backhand that none of my friends can beat. And here’s the kicker – I don’t really like tennis.
This year, I was forced to start taking classes that would be in a major. I have an intro to pre-law because I have to be prepared if I chickened out and actually did what the family wanted. I also have two music classes – one of which can be my last fine arts elective, but also a class that’s needed for the music production degree. Then there’s vocal studies – singing. The Dean of Humanities himself placed me in this class and said it was a requirement, so I might as well take it.
I feel super sorry for the poor bastard teaching it, though. I’m as tone deaf as a hippo fucking a rhino. Seriously, it is that bad. Maybe worse than the image.
“Dude, put your pants on. You’re making Henry over there feel less of a man.” Pete pointed over at the fella, who quickly pulled up his pants and shot an evil glare over at our teammate.
“Fuck you, asshole. I don’t get any complaints.” Henry flicked him off and grabbed his bag as he slammed his locker shut.
“Oh, don’t get your panties in a wad, Henry. I’m sure it hasn’t been an issue since you’re a total bottom.” Pete grinned wickedly. I loved Pete like a brother, but he could be a snide ass. “But for an alpha man like Darren – having a donkey dick makes a difference.”
“Dude, we can barely see yours through that bush. You need to manscape pretty badly.” I scoffed and high-fived Henry. Pete was right, and we all knew it – Henry was a power bottom. He had told us enough stories that we all knew which side he liked his bread buttered on.
”You’re just mad I didn’t let you fuck me when you got drunk. Sorry, dude – straight boys are not allowed. However, I’m totally versatile, douche.” Henry stuck his tongue out and slapped Mark on the ass as he bent over to put on his pants.
“Being a versatile douche sounds messy.” Pete laughed, and the rest of us groaned. “Get it? You all have no sense of humor.”
“And you, sir, have no jokes.” Mark buttoned his pants and sat down to put on his shoes. “Anyone going over to the Bersuck for dinner. I’m starving after that practice. Coach worked us hard as fuck.”
“Just like Henry likes it.” Pete grinned and stared at us. We all groaned again. “Hey, that was pretty funny.”
“But not as funny as that damn bush. Seriously, bro, that shit has to weigh you down. That’s why you were huffing as we finished our sprints.” I laughed, and Mark grinned slyly.
“Nope, that’s the pot,” Pete said proudly.
It was good to be back at school. Now, I just hoped everything went the way I hoped.
3
THOMAS
Do you know what my favorite new feeling is? Working with one of my students and watching them get it. Miranda is a sophomore vocal performance student who really struggled in her first semester as she relearned how to sing. Her high school choir teacher had not done her any favors – but you could tell that she had a wonderful instrument just waiting to be released. In her second semester, we made great strides with her breath control as she learned to sing from her diaphragm instead of her chest. She had been in a school with a teacher who loved musical theatre. So this legit soprano came in thinking that she was a Broadway belter. Introducing Miranda Brown, the new Patti Lupone – except she wasn’t and didn’t want to do musical theatre. So, we worked, and you could tell that she practiced and listened to every word I said and every correction I made.
She must have continued working all summer long because today, she came in, and I had to hold back tears. I was so proud of all she had accomplished. My new favorite feeling. The first time I really got a chance to experience it. Chills erupted over my body as she sang with a newfound joy of being her teacher.
I hoped it continued.
The knock on my door told me that my new student had arrived. My stomach clenched.
Meeting a new student always made me nervous, but this time I felt like it had an extra weight – thanks to Dean Remington. If this kid and I got along… I mean, he was a jock – probably a frat bro – and I was this uptight, classical music loving, stress ball of a man about to turn thirty right before Christmas. I’m sure he’s going to looooove me. But if we did get along, and he really wanted to be here, I was sure that I could help him find the song that lived within us all.
I hoped.
“Come in.” I stood from behind my desk and walked around to greet him. Everyone deserved a… And my foot caught the corner of my desk, and the floor rushed towards me – but then it stopped. Two strong hands caught me and held me aloft – my glasses slid off my face and fell to the ground.
Well, that’s about as embarrassing as it can get.
