text: From the moment I walked in the ballroom, I knew I was in the wrong place. This place was filled with know-it-all’s and the spoiled sons of rich businessmen. The halls were filled to the brim with holiday treats, alcohol (wait, wasn’t this party for minors?) and fancy, golden decorations that lined the walls in over-the-top Christmas cheer. Even more unfortunately than the fact that I stuck out like a sore thumb, was the fact that the actual awards show and music practice wasn’t for a few hours. Which meant that until then, I was stuck socializing. I couldn’t think of a more unappealing word at the moment. Okay, so maybe I should have thought this whole thing through a bit more. When I got the invite for a holiday banquet for Young Musicians of the Year within our state I should have known it would involve a lot of...people.....and talking. I also didn’t consider the fact that I was a drummer, also known as the least important musical role. Whatever. Fuck that. I’d like to see half of these fancy prep boys play some guitar without a solid beat to back them up. It might seem like I’m being pretty judgmental and rude. But considering the treatment I received at the door (and my one-hundred percent in my AP psychology class), I’m pretty sure they weren’t exactly huge fans of me. I'm not a huge fan of myself either, so I guess I can’t blame them. I don’t really have the option not to talk to people though. There’s a lot riding on this whole thing for me. There’s a small chance that I could get a scholarship for some kind of fancy music college or something, which is really important to me. Having an alcoholic father made money kind of hard to come by, so I needed all the opportunities I could get. Unfortunately, part of the competition for the scholarship was working together with other people before the awards show. We were supposed to get together in small groups and come up with some kind of impromptu song, and I had no idea how to go about this. Well, I should probably start with trying to meet some people. Which meant I should probably take my hood off and start making eye contact while simultaneously making an effort to not punch one of these idiots in the face. Slowly, I took the hood off of my head, exposing my dark purple hair. At this moment, I was seriously regretting allowing my older sister to dye it. Most of the time, I didn’t mind it, but now was not one of those times. Whatever. If people thought it was weird, then that was their problem. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having purple hair. Even though my hair was short, it was a wavy mess at the front, but I thought it looked cool with the purple dye. Sighing, I walked up to where a circle of boys were standing below a spiral staircase. There were four of them, all wearing equally fancy suits with gold pocket watches. “Hey,” Their excited conversation stopped abruptly, and they all turned to look at me. One of the guys, probably the leader of the group, took a step forward. “Hey, you plan on following your sister’s footsteps anytime soon?” He smirked as the other goons chuckled. “Excuse me?” They obviously had no idea who I was, otherwise they would have known that a) my sister was dead, and b) she committed suicide because of awful people like these ones. “You heard me. Maybe you should just....,” the guy gestured with his hand, running it in a smooth line across his throat. “How did you know that?” Pure venom dripped from my voice, so much that even I was aware of it. I was surprised. How had they known? I sometimes had slightly aggressive tendencies that usually bothered people, but I didn’t really care right now. “I knew your sister, Seth. I helped her see who she really was. A loser. A freak. A miserable, disgusting little-” Before he could say another word, my hands wrapped around his throat like I was possessed. I felt adrenaline rush to my brain, and I had trouble reigning myself in. “I don't want to hear another word come out of your mouth, or you will have problems speaking.” At this, one of his goons laughed, whispering the word freak in my ear. I shoved him, roughly, and he fell and hit his head with a sickening crack. I felt bad for a moment, but my rage overwhelmed the guilt, and suddenly it was a full on brawl. The boy got back up quickly and pulled out a switchblade. This was a three on one fight, and the only advantage I had was my height. The first guy, who somehow knew my sister, lunged for me, punching my stomach with such force that I almost doubled over in pain. I had to dodge, lunge, and swing while simultaneously trying to avoid that blade. Without realizing it, I had quickly knocked over two of the three guys, and the third was slowly backing away. I glared at him, turning on my heels and walking away, trying to find an abandoned hallway I could use to rethink my life decisions and consider what an idiot I was. I hadn’t lost my control like that in.....a long time. Whatever. Those assholes deserved every fucking bruise. It was a short fight, but quite a violent one. Getting into physical fights was something I was smart enough not to do, but Ziara was a sore spot. Ever since her death, our family, (and my happiness) was in ruins. I couldn’t think about that now, though. How on earth was I meant to get a scholarship now? Those preppies seemed to know what they were doing, and I figured that word would travel quickly around here. The thing was, this entire thing counted on me being able to make friends, or at least acquaintances. Clearly, I wasn’t so good at that. Opting to just roam around the halls for a moment, I jumped off the window ledge I had been standing on and continued down the hallway, rolling my eyes at the gaudy Christmas decorations. As I turned the corner, I heard a muffled yelp. What was that? It almost sounded like a pained animal, but that seemed highly unlikely. Racing down the corridor, I followed the sounds of the panicked voice, stopping when I saw a tightly closed door. I pressed my face to the thick wooden door, listening for any noises. Silence. Frustrated, I banged my fist on the door angrily, rolling my eyes. This place was a hellhole. “Who’s there?” That was all I needed. Quickly, I twisted the door handle and slipped into the room, ready to face whatever was inside. The room was dark, lit only by the faint Christmas candles that gave the room a sugary scent. It was overall, a quite lovely...lounge room? However, I was more concerned with the fact that two boys were holding a third smaller boy against the wall. Somehow they hadn’t noticed me come in. Idiots. I mean, yeah, the room was dark, but I’m sure me opening and closing the door caused some sound. “We know you can sing, Keith,” One of the taller boys with thick, black hair threatened. Keith. So that was the smaller one’s name. Keith looked panicky, his bright blue eyes darting around the room as if searching for escape. He seemed angry, fighting against the restraints, but the combined power of the slightly taller boys was making it hard for him to move. “We need a singer. And you’re the only one left. Sing for us. “ “Fuck you!” Keith exclaimed angrily with sudden vigor, pushing the first boy off of him. However, the other boy was stronger, and quickly tackled Keith, who started violently coughing under the pressure. Wait...was he coughing blood? Okay, time to intervene. I rushed into the scene, pulling one of the boys off of Keith and shoving him roughly to the ground. I wasn’t exactly a huge fan of physical fighting, but I didn’t see another effective option. Surprised, the other one released their hold on Keith, and I swept him up off of the ground, placing him upright. Keith crumpled to the ground though, and the two other guys took this as an opportunity to lunge at me. Fantastic. I really love coming to parties and then being provoked before finding some dudes trying to asphyxiate some attractive boy they wanted to be their singer. Blinking at my own strange thoughts, I barely dodged out of the way in time, jumping nimbly to the side. It appeared that Keith was unable to walk, but he had managed to drag himself near the entrance. That was good. I stepped to the left, and as soon as the other boys moved to follow me, I sprinted to the door and picked up Keith, who let out a startled noise at the sudden movement. It was hard carrying an entire person (though that person happened to be a good three inches shorter than me and not very heavy), but I was strong enough. Opening the door with my elbow, I left the room, making sure to give the guys a middle finger as I slammed it in their faces. I hurried down the hallway, shifting Keith, who seemed slightly annoyed at being carried bridal style. Whatever. He could tolerate it, especially considering he couldn’t walk. Eventually I ended up near the window ledge I had previously sat one, and I decided to set him down here. “Um...I could have walked....” Keith started, giving me a look. “Sure, is that why you’re leaning heavily against the wall right now and wincing?” Yeah, uh, there was no way he could have walked. Keith blushed and looked away. Adorable. Wait, what?? Jesus, what on earth was I thinking? Shaking my head at my own thoughts I turned to Keith. “Seth Kimura,” I said, offering him my hand. “I’m Keith Hollindale.” We shook hands and he swallowed nervously before speaking again. “So uh...thanks...for saving me. I appreciate it a lot.” “It was no big deal. Those guys were jerks. Seriously, it’s like everyone in here got infected with some evil let-me-be-an-asshole virus or something.” “I know right, like if you want a singer for the concert later maybe try being nice to them first,” Keith replied, smiling. Oh. The impromptu concert. I had been so busy stopping fights (and getting into them), that I hadn’t even thought about it. I had no idea what I was going to do, especially since most people were already rehearsing. Suddenly, an idea popped into my head. “Hey, do you want to work together for the concert? We still have an hour left,” I said with a sudden bout of courage. Keith was quiet for a moment, and I began to regret my decision. “Yeah, that sounds really nice,” he quietly responded. “Um...if that’s okay with you?” “Of course, I offered after all.” “R-right,” he said blushing again. Geez, why on earth did I find that so adorable? “What role do you play?” Keith asked me. “I’m a drummer.” “Awesome, “ Keith said, his face lighting up, “I’ve never really practiced with one before. “Well, I guess I’ll be your first then. Let’s go find somewhere to rehearse.” “Why do they call it an impromptu concert if we get to practice?” Keith looked confused for a moment. “I have no idea,” I said, laughing, and for the first time since arriving, I was glad I decided to come.