Queen of the Headphone Zombies

Form

CrushCrushCrush // Paramore

Emerson

Nobody moves for a few breaths after the remnant tones of the music dissipate and are absorbed into the soundproof walls. I realize I'm holding my breath waiting for the shouting to start. Any minute my father's over-the-top anger will boil over and it won't matter that he has an audience. There is no way the old man is going to let this shit slid. Military school, here I come.

But surprisingly it's Zoe's stepmom who breaks the silence. "That was just amazing, Emerson! And you wrote that last night?" Dragon Lady, I think her real name is something like Dolores, turns to my mom. "Didn't Chelsea say how amazing they sound together? It's even better live. I mean that video blew me away, but to hear them just feet in front of me...wow." The woman clasps her hands under her chin like a teenage fangirl and looks back at the band.

Sheesh. Well, at least we have one fan.

"I must say I agree. I saw the live show last night, but this unrehearsed performance has left me a bit breathless." My mom looks at me and now I can see the pride in her eyes. "Emerson, I truly had no idea. You've kept quite a gift hidden from us."

"Um...well, yeah, I guess. I really didn't think you guys would approve. You've been shoving business schools down my throat forever, so..." My voice trails off because I realize I'm digging my own grave the longer I speak.

"And that hasn't changed one bit," my father says.

Here we go. He's got his arms crossed and is standing there looking like a man on a mission. A mission to destroy my life. As usual.

"Yes, well, why don't we give these two a bit of time to chat, shall we?" My mom waves to Roger and Josh with one hand while motioning to Chelsea, Zoe and her stepmom to follow. I watch them all weave around my wall of a father and back into the store.

Zoe gives me a look over her shoulder, like she is thinking about staying put, but my mom shoos her along. And I'm left looking wistfully after them thinking thanks so much for jumping ship and letting me sink.

I take a deep breath, straighten my shoulders and prepare myself for the onslaught.

"We have much to discuss about your future, son. I won't have my boy fooled by pie-in-the-sky notions of fame and fortune. If this is going to be something you pursue, it will be done with a plan and a solid head on your shoulders." My father stalks over to me and shoves the papers he's been holding at me. "Standard contract, reviewed by myself and my lawyer, already signed by John Dubois."

What is he talking about? What does fame and fortune have to do with military school? And since when do they make you sign a contract to go to school? WTF does he mean his lawyer had to check it over? Confused as shit I reach for the papers and try to make sense of them, but the business language leaves me lost. "I can't read this dad. Is this even English?"

My father uncrosses his arms and takes a step towards me. "John Dubois. You went to school with John's boy, Brad or Bud or something-"

"You mean, Brody," I say, getting a stern look for interrupting. Brody Dubois is a rich douche-bag from the last school I attended. What the hell does that guy have to do with any of this?

"Yes, well, John is on the board of my company as a consultant. He also happens to work in the industry, marketing for various movies and recording artists. I sent him a link to your Halloween performance video this morning. Since it's gone viral, he was interested. Very interested."

Viral? Video? What the hell? I've been up all night writing this song, but I had no clue that there was a viral video of last night's gig. And why was dad suddenly looking less pissed and more pleased? I've been sneaking around, lying my ass off all to play in a band, and the old man has just caught me red handed, in the act of open defiance. There should be nothing but shouting happening. When are the fucking shouting and threats and lectures going to start? Shipped off to military school shouts should be flying out of his mouth.