Pavane for a Lost Boy (Or Rather, How to Survive Loss after Rejection)

Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Play song when instructed.

Well, folks, it looks like I'm the hottest topic to hit all of Pacifica Glades High School of the Arts after all.

And much to my surprise, I'm the hottest topic in all the good ways.

For the most part, the classwork is challenging (even more so since I was in all AP Honors classes, thanks to my transcript at my old school) and the teachers made sure that my academic life was bound to keep me on my toes for days on end (I had enough homework to keep me busy, even for the first day of classes).

But the most surprising part? Almost all the teachers and students were very understanding about my situation and made sure that I felt right at home, their comments about mental health constantly ringing in my ears as a reminder.

"We want you to maintain a positive mindset here at Pacifica Glades High, Mr. Bader."

"If you need a strong listening ear as a soundboard for whatever's on your mind, young man, the principal and vice-principal are here as well as us teachers and staff members. You're never alone and we're here for all your needs."

There were even a few comments about my late parents and siblings that really caught my attention- from students and staff members alike. "I'm surprised that you stuck it out this long before your late mother decided to leave you on the streets. She didn't deserve to have a son like you in her life."

"If my parents did anything like that to me, Grammy and Grandpa would have them disowned and leave me with their inheritance. I hope they're roasting in hell for all they put you through."

"Dude, with your looks and demeanor, you can be bound for the stage and screens on Broadway and Los Angeles. Your family treating you like trash wouldn't go unpunished if you were related to my family. Mom would ruin them in court."

It went on and on for the first half of the day.

And despite my rattling nerves, I did have a more-confident morning which allowed me to be more of a participant in my classwork rather than be living in the background. "You seem to be fitting in real well with everyone here at Pacifica Glades, son," commented my AP Chemistry teacher. "I hope to see more of that same edge in the days to come. And as far as your past is concerned, it's time to move forward to a brighter future. The best is still yet to come and you can find it here with all of us."

That's something you don't hear everyday. Even more so, given that I was left to fend for myself by everyone there. Even the most-hardcore potheads left me alone, given that they were too stoned to care, poor things.

It was now 4th period and I had break from the books, which allowed me to get a more-private tour of the school. I toddled around in the halls until I reached the large and more-modernized bandroom that looked as expensive as everything else did in this school. I stepped inside, my eyes landing on the large baby-grand piano that was the centerpiece of the room.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over me, my mind racing to the days when I would stay over with the Tuckers while Mom and my brothers threw parties for their friends (I wasn't invited since Mom thought that I would be the buzzkill there) and how Mrs. Tucker would teach me some songs over her piano while her family listened. And I became a fast learner, even going as far as composing my own music that I kept hidden at the Tuckers since Mom hated anything that didn't comprise of REAL sports (football or basketball, maybe track and field or tennis) or modeling (for the girls).

Would it be imposing if I decided to stick around for a bit and play a little something?

Looking around in the hallways to see if no one was watching, I crept in and took my seat in front of the piano before carefully lifting the lid over to reveal the keys. I thought for a moment of what I wanted to play. Some Shakira never hurt anyone, I thought to myself as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before beginning to play.

A/N: Play the song now!

The first few bars of "Empire" began as a soft and hesitant melody that grew hauntingly as I began to sing along. "Take off all of your skin, and breathe when you are free," I sang softly. "Shake off all of your sins and give them to me."

Being able to play this song allowed me to channel all the stress that was building up after the mass death and being kicked out of my home back at Fairlake Arms into this music as I began to fall deeper into a sedated trance while playing and singing.

"Like an empire so the world unites, we are alive. And the stars made love to the universe. You're my wildfire every single night. We are alive. And the stars made love to the universe..."

Every note that I emanated through the piano resonated through my bloodstream as I continued to add a more melancholic twist to the Colombian singer's sensual tune while wishing that I could be as free as her to finally break away from the scars of my past.

"Closer, pull me in tight. I wanna be yours when I be your hero," I sang, unaware that my voice was louder as I played with a more fiery gusto. "And my heart beats."

I felt like I never wanted to end this escape from my current state of mind.

I wanted to continue to play my heart out and let the music that I thought was lost forever be set free into my veins and into my heart.

"And the stars made love to the universe. You're my wildfire every single night. We are alive. And the stars made love to the universe," I sang as I reached the end, the coda growing softer and softer until I played the final notes.

I bowed my head low, keeping my eyes closed as if lost in prayer.

And then, a thunderous applause that snapped me out of my reverie as I soon found an audience of the Callaways, a stout and motherly fifty-ish-year-old woman who looked as she could be related to Shakira herself, Holly and her boyfriend Derrick, and even Judge McGillivray. "That was amazing!" cheered Holly as she came to me. "I never knew that you played."

I felt my face heat up from embarrassment. "It's been a while since I played," I confessed. "Mom never liked me to be talented, but accused me of not being well-rounded. Funny how she said that since I mainly played the piano back at my landlord's apartment thanks to his wife's teaching."

"Well, you definitely have the knack of playing the piano," commented the matronly Hispanic woman. "I'm Mrs. Bermudez-Estrada, the band teacher as well as the director for the jazz and chamber music groups. And after hearing you play my niece's favorite song, it's no secret that you have the gift of music, young man. I would like for you to audition for the jazz and chamber music group alongside the youth orchestra."

I blinked twice, unable to believe in what I was hearing. "Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean, I'm still the new kid around here and it's only my first day here."

"Nonsense," Judge McGillivray replied. "I knew you had potential the moment that I saw you in the courtroom. You just needed a little push. And, this could be a part of your mission that I gave you: join clubs that could get you connected with other kids."

I nodded. "That's true," I replied. "Okay, I'll go for it."

"You won't regret this, Bader," Mr. Callaway replied, giving me an approving grin. "It's only your first day here and things are starting to look up for you."

I believe it, folks.

And just like that, I was now a full-fledged student.

Looks like Demario is becoming a hot star at Pacifica Glades High, folks! But we know that he's keeping his head on straight, so him turning into a snob is not going to happen. Anyway, we'll continue his big debut in the next chapter as Demario's musical prowess reaches everyone's ears and he recaps his day to Dr. Nguyen.

Media: "Empire" by Shakira. Dedication: KingsleyAdrianBanks and Nyhterides.

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