Don't Forget to Write

A Rude Awakening

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. "Good morning sunshine!" Came Karen's voice. I looked around at my new surrounding and noticed I was in a studio apartment, with enough instruments to be an actual studio. There were guitars, a keyboard, a set of bongos, a bed, a couch, and a TV.

"Mornin'," I grumbled.

Karen walked over and handed me a cup of coffee, "cream or sugar?"

"Whiskey if you have it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Little hair of the dog."

"Don't you think you've been drinking a lot lately?"

"I know my limits, I just want something to help get, sure." She brought me a bottle of whiskey and I poured a couple of heavy shots into it. As I drank, Karen played the guitar and sang some songs. Her voice was raspy and out of tune, but it was soothing at the same time.

After coffee we said goodbye and I thanked her for giving me a place to sleep.

"No problem," she said, "somebody has to take care of you."

"I'm capable of taking care of myself."

"Hardly. You're lucky you have Bruno."

"Right. Well, I'll see you around."

"Bye, Pete. Stay safe.

It was brisk and windy as I stepped outside, and it had begun to drizzle. I fast-walked to the apartment (the homeless Denzel wasn't at his stairs). When I opened the door to Apartment 21 I was hit with a blast of comforting warm air, and fuzzy little Milo leaped into my arms and licked my face. "Bruno?"

"Yo, Peter. We gotta go."

"I just got here!"

"I know, now put on something decent, and let's go."

"What the hell?"

"Don't you look at your phone? I've been texting you."

"It's been dead, I couldn't find my charger."

"Where were you last night? And didn't you get the mail at all while I was gone? There's stuff in here from almost a week ago! Look at this." He gave me a letter from the school. "I normally wouldn't open your mail, but it said it was time-sensitive and it was from days ago." The letter was a summons to speak in front of the honors commission of CCNY for suspected illicit activities I had partaken in and said I was at risk for expulsion.

"...What the hell?"

"I think they caught on to your business. But let's get a move on, they want to meet you in..." he checked his watch, "less than an hour! Let's go!" I cleaned myself up faster than I ever had before, then dug through my closet for slacks, a decent button-down, sport coat, shiny black shoes, and a black leather belt - accessories which were reserved for special occasions like weddings, funerals, or times when my grandma forced me to go to church. When I came out dressed up and ready, Bruno was dressed up too. He had a big red tie on. "No tie? Peter you have to wear a tie to these things."

"I don't believe in ties, they're nothing but corporate leashes."

"God damn it Pete we don't have time for your libertarian bull shit. You're about to get expelled! Don't you get it? Put on a fuckin' tie!"

I wasn't getting it, to be quite frank. I was hungry, a bit drunk, and the ever-present sadness within me had reached an overwhelming swell. "I don't have a tie."

"Jesus Christ." Bruno took the tie off of his neck and gave it to me, then ran into his room and got another for himself. It was blue with gold stripes. "Alright, let's go." Then, in a nicer tone, "red looks good on you."

"Thanks, man. Let's hope it's good enough to stay in school."

We power-walked to the school, the brisk icy air stinging my cheeks, the rain falling a bit harder around us, and my body was cold despite my armpits sweating. When we got to the room the letter had told us to arrive in, we were two minutes early. I reached for the door handle. "Wait," Bruno said. "Catch your breath. You want to look calm and composed when you get in there. Simple, short sentences." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. Who the hell still carried handkerchief around? He handed it to me, "wipe your forehead. You're all sweaty. Don't say anything complicated or anything that may seem incriminating."

"You should go to law school after you graduate."

"And you should try stand-up comedy. Do you see how serious this is?"

"No. You don't think they'd really expel me, would they?"

"Depends on who you're dealing with." He brushed something off my shoulder and straightened my tie. "Man, you need a haircut. And a shave. You're a fucking mess." He checked his watch. "It's time."

I opened the door into a conference room. There was a long, wooden table with at least twenty big leather seats around it. I sat across from a panel of 6 people. "Hello," I said.

"Mr. Alves, did you bring legal representation with you today?"

"Uh, no I did not."

"Then I must ask your companion here to leave us. The meeting today is confidential."

I looked at Bruno. He shrugged. "I'll wait for you outside, Peter."