Laying down and staring at the ceiling day after day was getting boring for Harry. He curled his lip inward and bit his lip. Today, he'd be spontaneous.
The teacher spoke, "Who would like to perform first?"
No hands went up. Harry slumped down in his seat, lay his head on his desk, sighed, and raised his hand. Something that was usually a risk to his reputation of laying low, being unseen, unknown.
"Yes, er', uhm, boy in the flannel." Harry picked his head up off the desk.
"Harry." He said, with a faint smile, a very faint smile.
"Ah, yes. Harry. Well, what have you been practicing, what are you performing for us?" She asked, quickly, as if she just wanted the conversation over with.
"I'll be singing, uh, it's called, uhm, Roger Rabbit. I- uh, I. It's by Sleeping With S-sirens."
Several kids rolled their eyes, the choir teacher motioned for him to begin.
Is there a right way for how this goes?
You've got your friends, and you've got your foes.
They want a piece of something hot.
Forget your name like they forgot.
Oh, ain't that something?
As Harry sang, eyes widened. Ears erect and listening to his voice float through the hair softly.
Some wanna see you crash and burn.
And criticize your every word.
I'm trying to keep from going insane.
Ain't that the way of this whole damn thing?
Oh, trying to be something more.
Harry stopped abruptly, eyes followed his movements. His hands clutching the hem of his shirt.
-To be continued. Hope you like what I have so far. I'll write more, if you do.-
