The Not-So Brits

Chapter 14~ Kinda into the whole punk-rock

I apologize in advance, for this filler. Don't hate me!!!

I spend my day in a haze, not quite taking in my surroundings or actively participating. I had to skip breakfast, something I've never done and don't plan on repeating, to make sure I got to first period at a timely hour.

Currently I'm making my way to my last period on this fine Friday afternoon, music. Or do they call it band? Choir? In short, it's the single musically involved elective the Institute offered and I latched onto it as soon as I saw it listed.

As I wander down the maze-like corridors, my mind drifts towards an old story my grand-father used to tell. The story of the heroic man who was cunning enough to maneuver his way through the maze and defeat the Minotaur. What was his name?... T..h,..Theseus, conquerer of the mighty beast.

I missed gramps.

In all my years of not getting along with my parents, I always went to him for,.. anything really. It was he who taught me to read, and eventually poisoned me with a love for mythology. It was him that influenced my taste in music so prominently. Though it might sound a little odd and most would never understand, he was the one to buy me my first training bra. Yes, my shaky old gramps went up to the counter at the local tween store and paid in cash for my little neon blue bra. With his head held high, not once did he flinch or cower at the doubtful look crossing the cashier's face. He was wonderful that way. Full of confidence. A confidence so real and pure, no one could ever shake it.

Suddenly the hallway looks all too familiar. Opening the door to the classroom, all of it comes rushing back. The first day of school, the worst of them all. How I hid in here for what seemed like hours on end. But I'm not haunted by the memories, in fact, the room seems almost welcoming as I glimpse around. On that previous day, everything had seemed glum, from the weather outside to my emotions. Now, the sun was shining and there was no immediate threat of me breaking down and crying. All in all, it was like seeing the room in a whole new light. In it's full glory. Side glancing the graffitied wall, I saunter over to the wall of instruments. The light gives them a glowing aura. The specks of sunlight coming through the windows reflect off of each and every surface, all polished to perfection. Letting my hand glide along the objects, I stroll along the wall.

"Most usually head straight to the graffiti." I turn to come face to face with an old man. Well, old man in teenager-talk. in reality he was probably in his late forties. He was the type you could usually find at a record store if you spent enough time in one, and I did. With his ponytail and goatee, not to mention the beer belly, he seemed to have never wanted to leave college.

"If I had wanted graffiti, I would have chosen Art."
He laughs, a good hearty chuckle. I take a seat in one of the chairs. He eyes me, curious, "You know, you are a little early, I doubt anyone will show for a little while". Though this statement might come across as somewhat creepy, this was not the case. He said it in a way that just stare the facts, no undertone or implication.

"Oh, well, ok." I pull a bag of cereal out of backpack. So what if it was 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I always carry extra provisions of Fruit Loops wherever I go.

"I don't usually let people eat in here." I had completely forgotten about his presence for a second there. Scoffing, I reply "Don't worry, I'm not here to harm the instruments, sir."

Though a little unnerved, he relaxes a smudge. I sit there munching on my snack with my legs sprawled out on the table in front of me when the guy decides to start a conversation.
"So what brings you here?" He directs his question at me although he is still staring out he window.
"It's a long story, not one you'd be interested in." I brush it off.
"No, to my class." I'm taken aback, what brings me to his class?
"A love for music?" I try tentatively.
"Alrighty then, Miss..." he trails off. "Porter" I fill in.