Black Sheep in Society: Season 3

Black Sheep Amnesia: A Micah Monologue.

liz

It felt like nothing happened when I got back to school that following week. Sure, I had a shit ton of work to make up in the week that I was out, but everything else seemed as if the world kept on going without a care in the world. It was weird, to say the least.

The only thing that was different was that Rosie wasn’t in her usual space, waiting for our Art History class in the hallway of the Arts building. She was never late, and only was ever absent whenever she felt sick. When it came to her art classes, she made sure to make them to all. Today, she wasn’t there, and I only knew that because of the week before.

I had tried to visit Rosie in the hospital during the week, but her guardian made it nearly impossible for anyone to visit her. I don’t blame him; he doesn’t know anyone that Rosie associates with, which means he could think I’m Prescott for fuck’s sake.

After our art class–the one where Rosie would normally sit next to me–our professor called me up to his desk once the rest of my classmates were dismissed.

“Micah,” Professor Ross began to say. He sighed as he crossed his hands on op of his desk. “I was informed this morning that Rosie will not be returning to class for the rest of the semester.” Something told me that was going to be the case. I know this is was a decision made against her will. “Because the project is set to be due in just a couple of weeks, I will allow an extension for you to wrap things up on your end so that you are able to earn a final grade for the project.” I nodded my head as I left the classroom, sighing at the realization that this time was different. I really hope Rosie is okay.

“Micah!” I hear Dani’s voice shout across from the library. The librarian at the front desk shushes her, in which Dani ignores her and walks toward me. Tanner is seen apologizing to the librarian on Dani’s behalf. The usual.

Dani and Tanner walked up to my table, sitting on the chairs across from me.

“Dude, you actually made it to school this week?” Tanner asked. I nodded and sighed as I closed my binder.

“I couldn’t afford to miss any more classes,” I began to say, scanning the library as I did. Micah, she’s not coming. “Plus, I was just told by my Art History professor that the project me and Rosie were working on now needs to be done by myself.” I looked at them; I wasn’t surprised that they seemed uncomfortable when I mentioned her name.

“How is she doing?” Dani was the first to ask. I shrugged my shoulders, being very nonchalant with the topic.

“I don’t know,” I began to answer. “Her FBI agent guardian had her hospital room on lockdown and didn’t let anyone see her.”

“That’s suspicious,” Dani commented. “It’s not like she’s the Queen or something–“

“Dani,” Tanner nudged her on the shoulder. I looked at Dani, feeling bothered by her comment.

“Who the fuck knows what she told him abut her life in college,” I spat out. “Maybe she’s kept her whole life a secret and anyone that he doesn’t know is considered a threat to her safety.”

“I think it’s shitty that someone that suppose to know her and her life doesn’t even know her friends,” Dani continued to comment. “You would think that in situations like this, he should know who’s there for her and who’s not.”

“You don’t know Rosie,” I stated, stern and loud. Dani took a moment to just look at me, as if she was trying to find answers in the facial expression I had on my face. As usual, Tanner tries to diffuse the tension between Dani and me.

“I think Dani is just questioning your friendship with Rosie,” Tanner added. I looked at him, feeling even more annoyed and confused now. Not helping dude.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I questioned, looking at both Dani and Tanner. “Well?”

“We saw you at the party with her,” Dani finally spoke up. “You guys were… close.”

“We were dancing,” I defended, knowing exactly what Dani was talking about.

“Nah, you guys had some fuck me eyes on,” Dani bluntly said. “You see her more than just a friend.” I immediately shook my head.

“Absolutely not,” I quickly said, trying to dismiss the discussion. “She’s not my type—“

“Bullshit,” Dani spat out, leaning toward the table. “And something tells me her little relationship with that rich boy is the reason why she didn’t tell her guardian about you—“

“Fuck off, Dani,” I said as I slammed my hand in the table. It made Dani jump in place; she wasn’t expecting me to react like that.

“Alright, alright; let’s chill out,” Tanner intervened again. “How you tried calling or texting her?” He asked me.

“Out of service,” I sighed as I answered, leaning back on my chair. “Guess it’s what’s best; Prescott doesn’t have any contact with her.”

“Is he getting charged for aggravated assault?” Tanner asked. I didn’t answer, not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I knew what the answer was going to be. Tanner got the hint and sighed. “That’s fucked up.” I shook my head, trying to get the image of Rosie in the alley out of my mind. I took a deep breath and let it out, getting up from my seat.

“Watch my stuff, I’ll be back,” I said, walking away from the table.

“Where are you going?” Dani turned around and asked.

“I need some air,” I said, not turning back.

…

I immediately walked out of the library and swallowed the bile that came up, thinking about Rosie’s condition. It nearly killed me not knowing what was going on with Rosie, and it saddened me knowing that the last image I have of her is the one her laying face down in the dirt, unconscious and bloody. The image couldn’t erase itself from my mind, and eventually I felt sick to my stomach.

“Roe,” I said in Rosie’s ear as the music played loudly at the party. She turned around, now facing me and dancing. “Who taught you like to dance like that?”

“I’m Puerto Rican,” Rosie explained. “We were naturally born with these hips. She placed my hands on her hips as she danced, hypnotizing me with the moment of her hips. She was hot, she was sexy, and I wanted nothing more than to–

Rosie stopped dancing once her phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly took it out and looked at her screen. Her face had completely changed in the process.

“Roe,” I said to Rosie, which made her immediately lift her head up. “Everything’s okay?” She smiled and nodded, starting to dance in place as she spoke.

“I’m going to take some more photos and talk to some of my friends,” she smiled as she said. I watched her walk away before returning to the DJ booth, playing the next song.

I should’ve went with her. I should’ve just stayed by her side and protected her and have been there for her. My head starts to spin, and the image of Rosie in the alley keeps popping up in my head, scarred into it at this point. I couldn’t hold it in anymore and ultimately threw up in the bush next to the library building. Sick. Angry. Defeated. Worried.

The "Something" Series: Season 3

Two Somethings At Once: A Grace Monologue.

liz

I was blanking out in space in the middle of rehearsal. Not only did I have this solo replaying in my head for when it was time to practice it, but I have tonight’s dinner with Shawn, Sky, and course; Jamie and his girlfriend. I tried to not dwell on it too much, but I can’t lie and say that I wasn’t worried about the possibilities of having all three couples in the same room for a cordial dinner.

“Hello? Earth to Grace,” Aimee waved her hand in my face as she spoke to me. I blinked, snapping out of my deep thought. She started laughing as she sat in the seat next to me. “Already mentally checked out?”

I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “If only I can.”

“We’re almost at the home stretch,” Aimee mentioned, looking our toward the stage with the other dancers. “I felt like we’ve done this show a million times already. I can do it in my sleep.” I looked at her, laughing at her comment.

“Homesick yet?” I asked. Aimee sighed before answering. I guess so. I out my hand on hers, reassuring her. “We’ll be back in America in no time.”

“It’s just going to be weird to go back to Atlanta and see my boyfriend’s things out of my apartment,” Aimee admitted. Aimee’s had a rough year being in Korea. Her and her boyfriend have been on and off, trying to work something out and ultimately, they decided to end things. I understood what was going through Aimee’s head; we’ve spent so much of our time and life being professional dancers for a production across the country for a year. Although we’ve been away for most of the year, life has continued for our loved ones, and who knows just how much a part we still are in their lives coming back.

I wonder if my mom had this thought when she was coming back from her production.

“I get it,” I finally said, trying to reassure her as much as possible. “We still have to take our girl’s trip when we go back to America. We need to celebrate the hard work we endured this past year.”

“Yeah,” Aimee simply said, sighing before she looked up at me. “Did you and Sahim figure out how your long-distance relationship is going to work out?”

“No,” I quickly said, looking now toward the stage. “We’ll figure something out.”

“What; you’re going to leave your life in New York to live with him in the west coast?” Aimee shifted in her seat, now her body was completely facing me. “Or is he going to be the one to move to New York to be with you?”

“I don’t know, Aimee,” I said, now growing annoyed. “I’m trying to focus on one thing at a time.” Aimee finally sat back toward her seat, now also watching the rehearsal on stage.

“You’re going to have to make big woman decisions soon,” Aimee commented, not looking at me. “I mean, look at how fast time went by. We were just landing in Ulsan and now we’re already 2 months away from leaving.” I don’t look at Aimee, not because she’s getting me mad, but what she’s saying is ultimately the truth. It’s been so easy to blame the last remaining rehearsals on why I haven’t spoken to Sahim about the future. What am I so afraid of? Getting ahead of myself to get my heart broken in the end? Or am I just not prepared for what’s to come?

…

“Grace,” Sonia stops the music and walks up toward the side of the stage, sighing loudly. I catch my breath, tired from dancing for the past hour. “What’s going on? You’re trying to tell me this is what you came up with?”

“I apologize,” I said in between deep breaths. “I didn’t have time to stretch before rehearsal.” The concert hall was now empty; it was only me and Sonia left. “I promise I—“

“Grace,” Sonia stopped me, this time more gentle with her tone. She took off her glasses and looked at me. “This isn’t like you to make all of these mistakes in your choreography. You clearly have some things troubling you.” I shook my head, trying to play it off.

“I’m fine,” I quickly said, getting myself back in place. “I’ll take it from here—“

“Grace,” Sonia said one last time, this time in a more worried tone. “You’re a grown woman, and I understand you have things going on outside of the production, but don’t make me have to call Mollie and tell her that her daughter is going through shit that’s affecting her dancing.” I looked at Sonia, sighing and sitting on the ground. Surprisingly, she sits on the ground too, across from me.

“The pressure is just getting to me; that’s all,” I said, shaking off the feeling.

“Thinking about home?” Sonia asked. What is it with these people asking me the same damn questions?

I scoffed at Sonia’s question. “Isn’t everyone? It’s about to be October. The last show is the week before Christmas.”

“No doubt,” Sonia agreed. “But I’m asking if you’re thinking about home, and what is that going to look like when you get back.” Bullseye. I couldn’t say anything back, I just nodded my head. Sonia smiled in understanding. “It’s scary; I know. Even in my position, it’s scary to figure out how you’re going to fit back into people’s lives again.”

“But it comes with the profession,” I added, sighing as I did. “If anyone knows, it’s me.”

“She always thought about you while we were in India,” Sonia admitted. “Mollie couldn’t shut up about you at times.”

“She never came back,” I spat out, feeling defensive. “So whatever she said to you, she didn’t mean it—“

“She meant every word,” Sonia interrupted. “She turned down the position of director for the following production; she wanted to go back home.” I looked at Sonia, confused. This was the first time that I’m hearing this about my mom. “The production after us suffered a great loss in not having Mollie a part of it. She was determined she was going home to see you—“

“She never did,” I simply stated. Sonia looked at me before she spoke.

“She carried a lot of shame when the time came to go back to America,” Sonia began to explain. “We all did. My son was graduating kindergarten the year we did the production in India. I went back just when he was about to finish 1st grade. It… was extremely hard to go back and face the people I had left for the sake of my career. I can only imagine Mollie was going through an even deeper internal struggle.”

“I missed my daughter’s first day of school,” I admitted, trying to fight back tears. “I missed a lot of her firsts because of my career.”

“Then finish what you started here and go home to her,” Sonia simply said. “I’m sure you promised her that you’ll see her when you get back.” It was hard to believe that it was as easy as Sonia put it out, but I had to put some trust in her advice as a mother herself. There’s no doubt that I’m fighting my anxiety of facing Willow after a year of phone calls and bonding time through video chat. What if she doesn’t remember me that well anymore? What if she decided that she didn’t want me, or need me in your life anymore? What if I don’t fit in the tiny universe she created for herself?

Before I can say anything, the alarm on my phone goes off. I quickly take it outside of my bag, noticing the reminder on my phone. I quickly get up, not realizing the time.

“I’m sorry, I have to get going,” I began to say as I gathered my things. “I’m supposed to meet up with my cousin for dinner tonight.” Sonia nodded as she began getting up from the ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sonia!” I shouted as I ran out of the concert hall.

The Teenage Monologues: Season 3

Baby’s Second Heartbreak: A Mollie Monologue.

liz

Breathe in, Mol. Breathe out.

I stood on the sideline backstage, watching a band perform to the audience on stage. The crowd seemed lively tonight, which made me excited but even more nervous than usual. I’ve performed in front of tons of people, so I didn’t know what made this time different. I took a deep breath and sighed it out; I guess it caught Aaron’s attention.

“Mols,” Aaron said as he walked toward me. “You good?” I nodded, faking a smile before looking back at the stage. I felt Aaron’s hand slip into the palm of mine, tugging me away from the stage. He pulls me behind a part of the curtain away from the other bands and people and looks directly in my eyes.

“You’re going to be fine,” Aaron reassures me before saying else. “You know you’re gonna kill it, you always–“

“This is different, Aaron,” I interrupted him, looking at him now. “This isn’t some 20-person vocal choir where if I mess up on a note, no one will notice.”

“No, but that’s not going to happen,” Aaron debated. “You’ve never forgotten a single note of music since I’ve met you.”

“But what if it happens tonight?” I questioned. “This is something that I’ve never done, and this is a whole new crowd of people that don’t know me and I don’t know them and–

“Breathe, Mols,” Aaron grabbed my shoulders and took in a deep breath. I mimicked him, hoping that it would help in any way possible. In a way, it did, but he could definitely tell I was still anxious. “It’s nothing that you can’t do.”

“And how do you know that?” I kept questing Aaron. “You never performed with me before–“

“But I did,” Aaron said, now interrupting me. “You don’t remember? Open House showcase earlier this year? We sang the two solo parts in the closing song?” I looked at Aaron, nearly shocked that he remembered that one performance out of the dozens we already did for vocal. That performance was one of the first that we did as a freshman class. I remember being so nervous for that performance. Being on the stage next to Aaron singing that solo felt comforting in a way I never felt before. “That was the moment I knew that you could do amazing things when you sang on stage.”

“You’re just saying that,” I said. “You have to say those things.”

“I say them because I mean them,” Aaron said as he kissed me on my forehead. “And they’re true.” I looked at Aaron and just smiled. Was it normal to be this much in love at my age? How does one even know what love feels like? Aaron smiled at me before he leaned in for a kiss. He held my hand as we walked back toward the backstage area; along the way, Xavier and Willis come running towards our direction.

“Yo,” Xavier started to say to us. “Did you realize that–“

“Alright, give it up for Child’s Playpen!” the host of the event begins to say. The audience cheers as the band gets off the stage. “Next on our roster, we have one of our regulars! She’s back to bless us with her angelic vocals! Give it up for Rina!” I walked towards the back of the stage to watch the next performer. I was nice to see another girl performing tonight where most of the people in these bands are guys. I applaud for the girl as she walks closer to the microphone.

“Mol–” I heard Aaron’s voice call out for me, but turned back around when the girl on stage started to talk.

“What’s up Victorian Hall!” The girl shouted out, which made the audience cheer just as loud. “Y’all already know who it is! But those who don’t; I’m Rina! I used to be in a band before venturing out into solo stuff, defining my sounds and recreating the image I wanted to put out. This first song was one I co-wrote a while back and performed once or twice. Anyway, I revamped it to fit my style and I hope you guys rock the fuck out!” Everyone cheered as the girl began to get ready to start her performance.

“Mol,” Aaron says again, trying to get my attention.

“Shhh,” I turned around and said before looking at the stage. The band behind the girl begins to play the song; it sounded catchy, like something I once heard or something. She finally starts to sing the lyrics of the song, looking out to the audience. I was listening to the words, seemingly knowing each and every word of the song. I was confused; did I see this girl perform this song before? She began to jump around the stage, anticipating the chorus drop, and when it finally did… my heart dropped along with it.

This… this is the same song we’re performing.

The lyrics finally click once I hear Rina sing them; it’s a send off to an ex. Aaron had told me it was about a cheating partner getting hit with karma after doing them dirty in their last relationship. I couldn’t turn around and look at Aaron; it was hurting too much to even feel him standing behind me.

“Mol,” Aaron finally said, lower than the previous times. Before any tears could come down, I quickly walked away. “Mollie, wait!”

I yanked the curtain away as I walked through it; I wanted nothing more than to hide under a rock and never be seen again. I felt my heart breaking in pieces in my body. I knew Aaron had a girlfriend before me, but I didn’t know she was a part of his band. It made me mad to even think that Aaron was using me just for his band. Maybe he didn’t really like me to begin with. It wasn’t long after that Aron came rushing through the curtain, sighing once he sees me there.

“Mollie,” Aaron began to say.

“You’re kidding, right?” I immediately spat out. “Tell me I’m being pranked or something–“

“It’s not what it looks like,” Aaron started to explain. “Rina and I wrote the song for the band; not her.”

“She still went up there and performed it, Aaron!” I shouted, angry now. “She still felt the need to take the song and perform it knowing that the band was here tonight.” I looked at Aaron; this was the first time he genuinely seemed at a lost of words. It was like he wasn’t believing the words coming out of his mouth. It was like he didn’t know what to do in this moment. “Are you not over your ex?”

“What?” Aaron quickly asked defensively.

“You heard me,” I spat back. “Are you not over your ex and the cute little band you guys used to have so you had to drag me into it and try to replace the void of yore precious Rina?”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Aaron said, now getting mad. “Do you think if that was the truth, then why did you even decide to join the band in the first place?”

“I didn’t know your ex was in your band!” I yelled out. “Why would you even teach me a song that you and your ex wrote while you two were together?”

“Because it’s one of our songs, Mol,” Aaron answered, now getting annoyed. “Is this really about the song or is this about seeing my ex at this show?”

“I wouldn’t have known she even was your ex if she didn’t perform our song.” I debated back, crossing my arms along my chest. “You think I would’ve joined your band if I knew she was the lead vocalist before me?”

“And even if you did, why would it matter?” Aaron fought back. “She’s my ex for a reason, and she left the band for the same reason–“

“So you’re telling me that you’re just going to replace the lead vocalist of your band every time you date and break up with them?” I spat out. It hurt me knowing that Aaron did not actually ask me to be in his band because he liked me or my voice or thought I was the perfect fit for the band, but because this is what he usually does.

“Mol,” Aaron simply said, seeming upset now. “I should’ve told you about Rina, yes; but to actually believe that I would do something like that to you makes me question if you really know me.”

“Did you really want me to be in your band because of me?” I simply asked, trying to hold back the tears. I wanted Aaron to make everything feel better; he usually knows what to do or say to calm me down in times like this. Who do I turn to when my source of happiness is also the source of my sadness?

“Mol,” Aaron sighed as he began to say.

“Answer the question,” I demanded. “Did you want me in your band for me, or were you just looking for a replacement for your band?” To my surprise, Aaron didn’t answer right away. I nodded, trying to keep my composure.

Before anything else was said, Xavier came rushing through the curtain, looking for us.

“Dude, we’re up in like 2 minutes,” he said to Aaron.

“Give us a second,” Aaron responded. “We’re in the middle of something right now.”

“We’re good,” I said, walking away from Aaron. “We have to be in position for the performance.”

“Mols,” Aaron called out.

“Remember to cue me in when your solo is over in the second verse,” I said to Aaron, dismissing everything that was spoken about before.

“Mollie,” Aaron said one more time before we hear the host speaking on stage.

“Alright! The last performers of the night aren’t strangers to the lounge. Give it up for Quiet Division!” The audience cheers as we all walk on stage to our positions. I wanted to be anywhere else besides being in front of all these people singing a song that Aaron and his ex wrote. I took a deep breath, trying to not let this get the best of me.

I closed my eyes before looking over at Aaron running his guitar. He quickly glances up to look at me. I remember seeing Aaron do the same thing the first time I ever saw him perform. At the time, he seemed like he knew what he was doing and he looked so genuine doing it. There was no doubt Aaron cared about his band a lot; he was passionate about it. He spoke about how much he hoped he and his band became famous in the future. At the time, it was inspirational to see someone care about their craft so much. I felt like in that moment, I was able to finally relate to someone who gets it.

“You’re talented and passionate,” Aaron said sitting across from me while we practiced in Mr. Kamalani’s room. “It’s hard to find people that have that same value in their craft.”

“Sometimes I feel like a fraud though,” I admitted, flipping through the pages of sheet music. “This isn’t my craft.”

“But you take it seriously,” Aaron added. “You’re naturally a person that works hard to be the best at what they do.”

“So, being a perfectionist?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Being a dreamer,” Aaron said. “With hard work, your dreams can come true.”

“Is that so?” I scoffed, sighing at Aaron’s cheesy speech. “What makes you believe something like that?”

“I have to if I want the band to succeed,” Aaron explained. “Just how you want your dance career to succeed.” I rolled my eyes; it was hard to believe that something that I could possibly dreamt of being can com true if I worked hard enough to achieve it.

I didn’t realize that at the time Aaron was basically telling me he’d do anything for his band to succeed, even if that meant hurting my feelings in the process.

I took a deep breath and smiled toward the crowd. “What’s up, New York City!” The crowd cheered and applaud as I spoke. “Thank you to the Oxy Lounge for having us tonight; we are Quiet Division and we’re here to put on a good fuckin’ show for you!” As the crowd applaud, I looked over to Rina in the crowd, I’m assuming with a bunch of her friends. “We have a sick set for you all, so let’s get started with the first song… something tells me you guys already know the words to this one.” I looked over at Aaron, cueing him to start the song. He looked at me for a brief moment before he began playing the starting chords. I quickly turned my head to face the microphone, trying to sing the song.

I didn’t allow this hiccup to mess me up. Even though singing isn’t truly my passion, I am generally a passionate person. I will always be the best at what I do. I started to dance around the stage, singing along to the songs and interacting with the band members to give off that rockstar aura. The lights hitting me on stage and seeing the audience dance along to the music.

“When you’re laying next to him, does he ever hold you tight, does he comfort you when you cry in the middle of the night?” I started to sing as I looked directly at Rina, letting her know that this was the way that the song is now sung. I walked over to Aaron, watching him play the guitar. He looks at me as he plays, and I couldn’t help but think just how hot he looked doing so. I wasn’t giving him the benefit of the doubt, but something about us being on stage together made everything bad that happened disappear. “I can see it in your eyes that you already know, how much it kills me to say that I told you so!” I belted the notes as the chords went into the closing chorus. I flipped my hair upwards; the waves of red made it look like a fire flame. I get on my knees to continue ad-libing the final chorus. The audience is going wild at this moment, and before I knew it, the song finished and the crowd loudly cheered. I catch my breath, taking in everything. I looked at Aaron, as he looked at me.

Maybe we are the same person. Passionate.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Hello, 31.

liz

To my 31st year—

We are so excited for you to be here, not because it’s your first day here with us, but because we are blessed to have lived to see you.

You may not be familiar with who we are, but we’ve told every year that came before you that in all honesty, at one point we did not think we would live to see us at these older ages. We tell each year to come that if we actually went with our ideologies and allowed them to take complete control, we would have been dead at 18. That’s just the hardcore reality of it all, and every year it sounds more and more like a fever dream that something like that could’ve happened.

We could’ve lost all this time in life if we ended it at 18. We would’ve lost the day that I stood up at my college graduation being a first-generation college graduate. We would’ve lost the passion of higher education and publishing an article in an academic journal. We would’ve lost the friendships that came and went; the ones that nurtured a part of our lives and the ones that taught us valuable life lessons. We would’ve lost the summers spent in Pennsylvania at my grandparent’s house, playing with their dogs and listening to their farm animals speak all day. We would’ve lost the feeling of truly falling in love, then falling out of it, to then find it back again all with the same person. We would’ve lost all of that time spent to be the person we are now. 31, you got it good; you are know witnessing a version of us that our past selves wished they could have seen.

We want to let you know that we don’t expect you to always be perfect. We understand the severity you bring with your big age; we know that things will happen this year and the years to come that will completely alter our lives. We understand that with this age, we are continuing a journey of life that is the complete opposite of what it was like in our 20s. We understand that while this is the best time of our lives, it is also the time of our life that is completely new and unpredictable, and it’s okay if we don’t have the answers to each question or scenario that comes up.

Most importantly, we understand that there are things we need to work on still if we expect to go through the inevitable of growing up.

31, we are excited to see what you can teach us about ourselves this year. We can’t wait to continue experiencing life, living it to the fullest, and not letting anything or anyone around you ruin your perfectly good day. Lastly, we are ready to continue experiencing life in ways we never thought we can, whether it’s for good for bad.

31, I hope that being here to see you come has made you proud of me. I hope that with 31, I continue living life to its complete potential, and to continue nurturing my younger self in ways I couldn’t do so in the past. I am living not just for our present selves, but for the past versions where they couldn’t even dream of doing the things we do now.

31, welcome yourself into the world.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

30 Things That Happened/I Learned While Being 30.

liz

Things That Happened:

  1. I celebrated my 30th birthday in Los Angeles, California.
  2. I went to see Chicago on Broadway for the first time.
  3. I became a Notary Public after passing the exam (on the first try).
  4. I went to my first ever themed Spring Break party.
  5. I went to see Tomorrow x Together in concert at Madison Square Garden.
  6. I attended a Fourth of July cookout.
  7. I went to Atlantic City for the very first time in the summertime.
  8. I was permanently hired as an Enrollment Registrar Coordinator.
  9. I spent another weekend in AC in October and had possibly the best weekend ever.
  10. I went to my second Halloween party; this time actually without my social anxiety getting in the way.
  11. I attended my first ever Office Potluck.
  12. I went to my second work holiday party and won the 2024 holiday dance contest.
  13. I dyed and cut my hair way too many times to count.
  14. I was featured in a couple of songs! (Check out DJ Obie The Mayor!)
  15. I was faced with a lot of challenges that started now being an adult.

Things I’ve Learned:

  1. You can do the things you’ve always dreamt of doing.
  2. There’s always an opportunity to cross things off your bucket list; even the minor things.
  3. You can do anything with hard work and dedication, no matter how hard they may seem.
  4. Always say yes to do something that you would’ve turned down in your past.
  5. Go to that big venue to see one of your favorite artist and always have a plan that eases your anxiety.
  6. The heat can be a bother, but the things you can do in the summer are endless. (I miss it!)
  7. Always take time away to reset your mind and body from your work to prevent further burnout.
  8. You are in your position in for a reason, and any doubts you may have stems from your desire to want to be good at what you do (and you do! Give yourself your flowers)
  9. The unexpected moments sometimes make the best memories.
  10. With enough practice and exposure, you can overcome anything.
  11. It’s needed to step back from the serious stuff to simply be grateful for those around you.
  12. Your anxiety is never what defines you, and sometimes you got to tell that to it.
  13. Despite having a ton of high moments, you must learn how to control yourself during your lows.
  14. It’s fun stepping outside of your box.
  15. Adult problems require so much are analysis and self-awareness than I ever thought.
LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: My Next Boss Battle of Life.

liz

Ten years ago when I turned 21, I thought I needed to change myself. Sure, I was 20 the year before that which kickstarted a new decade of my life, but 21 symbolized a person now being a legalized adult. I spent my 21st birthday at a sushi restaurant in Bedford-Stuyvesant, wearing heels that were too tall for me to comfortably walk in and it had snowed earlier that morning. Nice choices, Liz. Needless to say, it was the first time I sat down in a restaurant and was able to order myself a drink from the bar. I felt so official, you guys. I had this thought that I would be spending my 21st year living it up to the fullest and doing all of the fun shit that we saw adults doing when we were younger.

Until that became the last time I had a drink at a bar that year.

My biggest battle at 21 was that I felt pressured to become an adult. I felt like at 21, I needed to start doing things that in all honesty did not feel ready for at that age. The older I got, the more afraid I was growing up. It was normal to be 21 and not have your adult life figured out. It’s also normal to be 31 and not have the adult life you thought you should’ve had.

In the past year, I’ve definitely expressed this ongoing battle of my problems being more adult-focused, or things I wouldn’t have worried about being in my 20s. The cognitive transition alone going into your 30s completely changes, and when you’re now faced with problems that you’re experiencing for the first time, you’re left really feeling like changes in your life need to be made.

For me, I am learning to not take anything too seriously, and never personal. I am learning that when people are angry and projecting that to others, it is not because of you. I am learning that if someone else isn’t having the greatest day, it should not reflect on how I carry out my day. I am learning that to keep a healthy relationship going with your loved ones, it is crucial that you set boundaries that are important to you and your mental health.

Getting older means you begin to see things you never did before. You understand things about life that only comes with age. And I think the biggest thing about this change is that you’re expected to still live your life and take on the responsibilities you have. You still need to pay the bills. You around have to work your 9 to 5 job. You still need to have your life in order while going through some of the most unpredictable times of your life.

For me, in want to learn hope to not lose myself in the process of growing up.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, y2katalogue: The Tapes

Tape #35: Jate? Nennifer?

liz

Jennifer walks into a rehearsal space with a guy her age; he has brown, curly hair and is wearing a collared shirt and vest with skinny jeans. He’s totally Jennifer’s type. She walks around the rehearsal space, observing the instruments and microphones at the corner of the room. She turns around and looks at the boy.

Jennifer: Nate, this rehearsal space is sick.

Nate: Thanks, my brothers rent it out whenever we have a band practice.

Jennifer: Do they also go to Waverly?

Nate: Just Jason, he’s a senior.

Jennifer: *teases* He must be so excited that his baby brother is a freshman at Waverly.

Jennifer laughs as Nate deadpans.

Nate: It must be nice being the oldest sibling, huh?

Jennifer: *sighs* Not really. It just means that you get blamed for every little thing the younger siblings do.

Nate: How many siblings you have?

Jennifer looks at Nate and doesn’t immediately answer the question.

Jennifer: I have one younger sister, but my mom is having another baby.

Nate nods his head, Jennifer coughs and changes the subject.

Jennifer: Anyway, Indigo’s Chemistry is having a show in a couple weeks at the Oxygen Lounge; I would love for you to come out and see us.

Nate: *teases* See us, or see you?

Jennifer’s face turns red; blushing hard at Nate’s flirty statement.

Jennifer: Musically, us. Personally; me.

Nate starts laughing as Jennifer looks at Nate; hearts in her eyes.

Nate: Well I’m just going to have to stop by and see you perform with your band.

The two teens look at each other before slowly going in for a kiss. It was an innocent one, quickly pulling away once their lips touched.

Nate: *shy* I’m sorry, I– uhm–

Jennifer: *shy* No, it’s okay! I-uhm–

The two teens stop talking and just look at each other. Jennifer starts the conversation.

Jennifer: I think you’re really cute, Nate. You’re passionate about your music and you’re sweet and kind and– *sighs* And I like you.

Nate widens his eyes, seeming shocked with Jennifer’s confession. Jennifer reads Nate’s body language in a negative way.

Jennifer: I understand if you don’t see me the same way, I–

Nate: No, no it’s not that; it’s just…

Nate looks at Jennifer before he continues.

Nate: I didn’t know that you felt that way.

Jennifer: And?

Nate: And…

Jennifer was getting annoyed, feeling stupid for sharing something to Nate that he didn’t agree with.

Jennifer: It’s fine, Nate; I get it–

Nate: No, wait–

Nate holds out his arm to reach Jennifer before he walks out of the rehearsal space. She turns around to look at him, clearly upset.

Nate: I like you too, Jennifer.

The two teens look at each other and before they decide to kiss again, the door to the rehearsal space opens up; in walks two older guys that look a lot like Nate.

Nate: Bro, what are you even doing here?

Nate’s older brothers, Devin and Jason, walk up to the two teens; they look at Jennifer before looking back to their baby brother.

Jason: Thomas mentioned you were up here *looks at Jennifer* Who’s your friend?

Jennifer stands near Nate, feeling shy.

Nate: This is Jennifer, she’s in my vocal class and also has a band of her own.

Jennifer: *politely* Hi.

The two brothers wave at Jennifer.

Devin: That’s sick; what’s your band’s name?

Jennifer: Indigo’s Chemistry; Nate was actually going to let our band rehearse here for a couple of nights before our next gig in a few weeks; of course if it’s alright with you–

Jason: Oh! You’re that freshman girl that used to date Danny, right?

Jennifer scrunches her eyebrows, not amused by Jason’s comment. Nate looks at Jennifer; clearly this was information he was aware of.

Jennifer: “Used to”. We’re actually friends now. He’s the drummer in our band–

Nate clears his throat, which makes Jennifer look at Nate.

Nate: Can you give us a moment? I just want to clear up some scheduling stuff with her…

Devin and Jason agree and begin to walk out towards the door to exit.

Devin: It was nice meeting you Jennifer!

Jason: *adds* Nice to finally put a face to the name.

Jennifer doesn’t respond back. Once the door closes, Nate turns to Jennifer to talk.

Nate: You used to go out with Danny Campbell?

Jennifer: It was literally a year ago, Nate. We were young and dumb and stupid and–

Nate: And now you’re friends and he’s in your band? *points out* You know, if you needed a drummer for your band, I would’ve volunteered to be in it.

Jennifer: I know but–

Nate: You decided to choose your ex instead.

Jennifer: Nate, it’s not even like that–

Nate shakes his head, dismissing anything Jennifer had to say.

Nate: I’m gonna tell my brothers that you can have the space for these nights for rehearsal. They should be able to give you the key code to enter–

Jennifer: Nate, are you seriously going to act like this?

Nate: *nonchalant* I have a rehearsal of my own to get to, so I guess I’ll see you in school, Jennifer.

Jennifer takes a moment before she does or says anything else. She gets the message and grabs her bag from the chair.

Jennifer: Bye.

Jennifer walks out of the rehearsal space with her head facing down, wiping any fallen tears away from her face.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Throwback Thursdays

Where Was I in 2015?

liz

*sigh* These posts are never easy to make because they remind me just how old I’m getting... Anyway! Dear, readers; welcome to Letters from Liz!

First and foremost, Happy New Year! I cannot believe that another year has passed and now we are in a new one! Of course, with every beginning of a new year, I like to come on here and talk about what and where I was a decade ago. I am also reminded that with every new year, the “decade” year in question is a time that feels like it happened only a few years ago. And then I’m reminded that soon my entire 20s will be a decade–

But before I spiral down this rabbit hole, lets talk about a time where I remember quite well: 2015!

In 2015, I was a 21-year old junior in college pursing my bachelors degree in English Writing. By this time, I was not only getting into my major courses in writing, but I was also in the middle of finishing my requirements for my Psychology minor. During this time of my life, I was very much trying to figure out what life was going to look like after I graduated college in 2016, or what I thought the case was. Cue the one story that still haunts me to this day:

My academic advisor at the time (shoutout to Jen Durando for literally saving my academic life) was advising me for classes I needed to take for the upcoming Fall 2015 semester. She had noticed that I was short a couple (try 20) credits and told me that my graduation in Spring 2016 could be delayed because of this. She saw that in the recent semesters, I grew an interest in theatre (thanks to my love for screenwriting at the time). She suggested that I continued to take courses in drama and just declare it as a minor, in which I did. Although that summer, I had to take two courses to get back on track for my anticipated Spring 2016 graduation. Spoiler: I did end up graduating the following year.

In 2015, I worked for a production company in the city as an internship in hopes that this opportunity would create a possible career for me when I graduated from college. This internship was for two months long, leading up to their annual event called Poetic License. This was the first year that Poetic Theater Productions had made this event a month long process; in previous years, it was just a week long of different shorter projects being performed.

This year, Poetic Theater Production presented two different plays by two different creators. The first project was Paradox of the Urban Cliché, a play that was written by Craig muMs Grant, an American poet and actor. (I only knew of this information because he played an inmate named “Poet” in HBO’s Oz in the late 1990’s). The project that I worked on was called Dijla Wal Furat: Between The Tigris and The Euphrates, a play written in the various different prospective of those who were experiencing the War in Iraq in 2003.

Photo Credit: Born; Find the Light Photography, 2015

I worked closely with the stage manager, sitting in the little booth behind the theater managing the soundboard for the play. The experience was rewarding; I got to see young actors rehearse and become characters on stage and then immediately turn it off when they got off of it. It gave me an appreciation for those who were actually majoring in drama back in college. It wasn’t an easy thing to teach your mind and body to do.

In 2015, I went to my first ever concert and it just so happened to be a Kelly Clarkson one. She was on tour to promote her new album, Piece By Piece, which was released earlier that year. She was playing two nights in NYC at Radio City Music Hall during the summer, and had two opening acts. First it was artist named Eric Hutchinson, which at the time was a smaller artist that had some pretty catchy pop-like song. The second opener was Pentatonix; the 5-member acapella group that won Season 3 of NBC’s The Sing Off. I was already such a big fan of theirs and was so excited to also see them perform live. Their vocals are literally angelic; it was like I was listening to their CDs when they performed. They are such an unbelievably talented group that had everyone intrigued by their vocals.

I remember crying when she was performing “Invincible”; a song talking about how her lows in life made her stronger in the end. I guess at that point, everything I was feeling about the year thus far came pouring in.

It wasn’t an easy one; it was the year that I dealt with stress in every aspect of my life. It was difficult trying to heal when you were not able to escape the triggers, which made me feel different emotions I didn’t know to regulate at the time. It was a year of many challenges and it’s the year that I constantly look back at and pinpoint the shift of my mindset permanently changing.

Needless to say, 2015 was a crazy year, and sometimes feels like a fever dream when I’m reminded that it’s now 10 years ago.

Some other things I’m reminded of about 2015:

  • Snapchat was growing in popularity due to its camera filters and snap streaks.
  • Most, if not all, music was produced by DJ Mustard and heard “Mustard on the beat” in every Top 40 song.
  • YouTube was beginning to become the key for creators to share their context in the world; mainly gaming channels and beauty/fashion channels.
  • Vine was our TikTok. #RIPVine
  • Everyone edited their photos using VSCO because the influencers at the time used that editing app.
  • Kylie Jenner was “King Kylie” and took the world by storm(i) when she launched her first three shades of lip kits.
  • The song of the summer in 2015 was “Cheerleader” by Omi.
  • Barack Obama was our president.
  • Everyone questioned what color was that dress.
  • The Supreme Court’s decision that led to legalizing same-sex marriage.
  • Bruce Jenner transitioned in who we know now as Caitlyn Jenner.
  • MTA bus and train fare went from being $2.50 to $2.75. (Can you believe it’s being raised to $3in 2025?!)
  • The newest iPhone model to be released was the iPhone 6S.

It’s crazy to think that things that happened and that were trendy 10 years ago are now considered “vintage” and “nostalgic”. I could only imagine how nostalgic 2025 will be ten years from now…

… too soon, Liz.

LFL's Anniversary Blogging Celebration!, Overexposed: A Self-Love Project.

Overexposed: 2025.

liz

20 years ago, my family and I went to visit our grandparents in Pennsylvania during the summer with my aunt, uncle, and my two baby cousins. It was always beautiful around this time of year; you could hear the camp from across the land sing and play their music marking their end-of-the-summer celebration. The goats would talk whenever my grandparents entered the pen to feed them barrels of hay and fill up their water jugs to stay hydrated. My family sat on the deck talking among each other while my 3-year old cousin and I played in the blown up kiddie pool, keeping us entertained. My sister would go pet the three American Bulldogs that my grandparents owned; Bear, Molly, and Emma.

We were there because we were celebrating my grandmother’s birthday that July; she was turning 60 that year. This year, in July, she will be 80.

She no longer lives in that quiet place in Pennsylvania. She no longer has her family of chickens and goats, waking us up in the morning with their sounds. She no longer has the three dogs as they all passed away years later. She no longer has my grandfather making playful jokes at her and making the rest of us laugh as he passed away from lung cancer in 2018.

20 years ago, I was just this little wavy haired girl hitting puberty, graduating elementary school that June and entering middle school in the Fall. 20 years later, I am a woman working in higher education, watching time pass us by and learning that if not careful, will slip in between our fingers.

Hi, my name is Liz, and I’m turning 31 in just 8 days.

The beginning of every new year seems to be more serious than before; it’s truly the mark that reminds us that yes, the years are coming and going and yes, the concept of time is really something we can’t ever fully understand. As we get older, the ones around us get older, and that’s truly a scary thought if you live your life thinking that you can manage how time is spent. As you get older, you realize how fucking depressing ringing in the new year can be. When you’re older, you wonder if the adults you grew up around felt that same wave of sadness while putting on a smile just to keep the moment magical.

But, the new year also means that we get another chance to start over, and symbolically leave the negativity of the previous year in the past. Sure, your life doesn’t automatically reset on January 1st, but it does indicate a fresh start.

I hope that in 2025, I get more opportunities to spend time with family that I don’t get to see all the time. I hope that I get the opportunity to spend my time traveling more, going to more concerts, events, and parties, and with those that I love the most. Since 2024 has given me just a slight taste in what my 30s are going to feel like, I hope that in 2025 I am able to begin working on some processes that I set my mind to. I haven’t forgotten about you, good ole doctorate program!

Lastly, I hope 2025 isn’t too cruel with the life lessons that I know I will one day have to experience. I hope that it eases me in the reality that has yet to come; the one where I am truly faced with the fact that I am growing up as the years pass by, and that on every January 1st, not only does it mean I’m blessed to have seen another year, but accept that we cannot stop time from happening.

In 2025, I hope that I continue to make memories as I’m getting older, and associate the action of getting older with a positive outlook. It’s scary to grow up; yes. It’s scary that I am at the age where I can remember something that happened 20 years ago as if it happened yesterday. It’s scary having remembered all these people in your life who were once young now getting older. It’s scary when you become the adult and you see the ones who took care of you declining in mobility and strength (physically and mentally). It’s scary to come to terms that these things are inevitable, just how the ball will drop at midnight every single year as it first did back in 1907.

It’s scary to think about, yes, but the best way to cherish the time we have now is to truly live in the present. The best way to preserve time is to simply enjoy it while we have it. And I think that’s what I’m aiming for in 2025.

Black Sheep in Society: Season 3, Twelve Letters of Lizmas: 2024

Day 12: The Black Sheep’s Martyr: A Micah Monologue.

liz

It’s damp, and reeks of piss. I can’t help but hold my head and apply pressure to my temples to ease my pounding headache. Something has to be broken because something feels out of place in my body. I don’t remember much of what happened. The last thing I remember is getting punched in my stomach so hard that I was grasping for air, then everything went dark.

It was red, and then immediately went black.

I look around and notice just where I’m at, and it starts coming back to me. I’m in a fucking prison cell. I immediately get up from the hard bench and walk around the closed cage. What the fuck am I going to do to get myself out of this situation? What if I don’t get let out? What if I had to go to court to get a permanent sentence for nearly beating a man close to death? Is he going to be sentenced for nearly beating Rosie close to death? What if—

“Where is he?!” I hear a woman’s voice echo down the hall. “Where do you guys have him held up?!”

“Ma’am,” I hear one of the correctional officers say back to calm the situation. “He’s been in holding for—”

“Tell me where the fuck he is!” The woman shouts louder and I immediately know who it is. Fuck… mom.

“Pep,” I hear my dad say to my mom, trying to calm her down. Fuck, it really is mom.

“Tell me where my son is,” my mom’s voice demanded before I hear my father shout out her name. Before I could process everything going on, I finally see my mother run up to the holding cell. I immediately backed up, scared as shit seeing her in complete rage. Two officers begin to grab my mother’s arms to contain her. Fuck, what if she gets thrown in here for me for fucking up a correctional officer?

“Pep, please,” my father finally catches up to the cell. He glances at me before looking back before looking at mom. “Let her go; she’s okay!” My mom’s face sank as soon as she made eye contact with me.

“Micah,” she said as the officers let her go. She came close to the bars of the cell and stared at me.

“Can you confirm your son’s name and date of birth for us?” one of the officers asked my dad.

“Salem Micah Kamalani, July 8th, 2018,” my father answered. I couldn’t get my eyes off of my mom. She wasn’t crying, but she looked as if she could at any minute. She was silent the entire time, making the feeling of guilt even worse.

“We just need you to sign him out at the front desk–” the officer began to say before my mom finally spoke.

“I’ll do it,” she finally said, still looking at me. She finally turned away and followed the officers toward the front of the precinct. Once she was gone, I felt like I was able to finally breathe. My dad watched as she left before walking toward the cell.

“You have so much explaining to do when you get out of here,” he said in a stern voice. I didn’t say anything back; I didn’t want to get in even more trouble for talking back.

…

My father unlocked the front door to our apartment. A part of me was scared to enter the apartment and have the door close behind me. The night was still young, and my mother knew just how to make an argument feel like a lifetime when she’s mad. My mother walked into the apartment, putting her things down on the kitchen table. My older brother was sitting in the living room while his wife was in the kitchen area. Both of them looked at my mom before looking at me.

“Are the girls home?” my father said as he cleared his throat.

“They both should be coming home from Nathan’s show,” Milo answered.

“Emmie’s sleeping in your room if you don’t mind,” Sophie said to my mom. She nodded her head to acknowledge her statement, but doesn’t say anything else.

“And Summer?” my father asked.

“Sleeping in the girls’ room,” Sophie answered.

“Did you guys get to eat?” he asked Milo and Sophie. “You didn’t have to wait–“

“You didn’t have to wait for us to, you know, pick up your delinquent brother from prison,” my mom finally said before looking at me.

“Prison?” Sophie repeated in shock before looking at me.

“Right?” my mom scoffed as she answered. “Sorry we couldn’t have dinner as we planned because Micah decided he wanted to go to prison tonight!”

“Yeah, because I totally wanted to spend my night there,” I spat back, getting annoyed.

“You shut up!” my mother pointed at me and said. “You have no right speaking in the position you are currently in!”

“Maybe if you spoke to be like a decent human being, you would understand how I ended up in bookings in the first place!” I shouted back at my mom.

“A misdemeanor is something that a decent human being wouldn’t be charged with!” she yelled back, now even angrier. “Seriously Micah, you’re trying to talk yourself out of something that was so severe, we had to pick you up from a precinct that you were being held in–“

“You’re acting like I killed someone!” I shouted angrily at my mom.

“You got into a physical altercation with a billionaire’s son! What makes you think they are not going to bring you to court to charge you for a criminal defense?! Did you not think that through?” I looked at my mother, angry that she’d put this on me. She didn’t know the entire story. Would it even matter if she did at this point?

My mother was always extremely hard on me when it came to doing the right thing. She had expectations for me that I feel like she didn’t have with my brother or sisters. Every time I got in trouble for something, it was the end of the world for my mother. I was tired of the unfair treatment, and I honestly didn’t understand what made me different.

“Maybe that billionaire’s son has something to hide,” I spat back. “Did anybody even bother to grab my equipment from the party?” My mother began to laugh.

“You’re more worried about your stupid equipment than your arrest; classic,” my mom commented, obviously being sarcastic. “No matter what I say, it’s just going to go in one ear and out the other, so why do I bother?”

“That ‘stupid’ equipment is my livelihood, mom,” I defended myself, annoyed that she would downplay my gig. “That equipment is what’s getting me into–“

“Your livelihood is making sure you pass your classes and graduate with your degree, Micah!” my mom shouted out. “Was this whole project you had going on just some cover up to throw a party and score points with the popular crowd?”

“This was my project!” I yelled back, getting angry at my mom now. “For fuck’s sake mom, why is it when Milo or the girls got in trouble you were never this hard on them, but God forbid I go ahead and do something, and you act like it’s the end of the fucking world–“

“Because you’re the only one out of them that does reckless shit like this!” my mom admitted. “I have to be hard on you because if not, you would run out in the streets doing whatever the fuck you want!” I looked at my mother, not surprised in her words but shocked that she finally admitted it. She saw me as the problem child in her perfect family. She was hard on me because I didn’t act like the rest of the family. I didn’t conform into what my parents wanted me to do. I did my own thing, and in the end it left me being more of an outsider than anything else. My mom took in a deep breath before she spoke; she clearly was fighting back tears in her eyes. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself again.” Again. She’s talking about my suicide attempt a couple of years ago.

My mouth was tight shut. I was till so furious that my mom would treat me like a problem child because she saw me as one. Despite all this fluff of looking out for me and loving me… it didn’t feel like she did. It made me feel like I was their mistake this whole time, and the older I got, the more she took it out on me.

“Micah, mom is just trying to look out for you,” Milo started to explain. “She’s not out to get you or make you feel like you can’t do anything right–“

“I don’t remember you being a part of this conversation, bro,” I said to Milo, annoyed that he was budding into this conversation. “You don’t know how it feels to be in my position, so kindly you should shut the fuck up.”

“Micah,” my father finally chimed in.

“Dude, I grew up without my biological mom,” Milo began to say. I rolled my eyes, having known this exact story word-for-word by now. “Do you know how hard it was to see my siblings have both of their parents?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know we were now playing a game of ‘who got the most traumatic memories being a part of this fucking family’,” I said, turning around to walk toward my room.

“Yo, fuck you man,” Milo shouted, clearly feeling a type of way with what I was saying. “This is exactly why no one ever wants to get close to you. You think the world is out to get you when really there’s so many people trying to save you from doing stupid shit–“

“Worry about your own fucking family, dude,” I turned around and walked to my brother’s face. My dad finally got in between the both of us, trying to break things up between Milo and I. “Stop pretending to give a shit when clearly you never fucking did–“

“That’s enough!” my father shouted, silencing everyone in the living room. “Micah, just go.” I didn’t say anything else; I walked toward my bedroom door and slammed it shut, leaving my family out in the living room by themselves.

…

Someone was knocking on my bedroom door about an hour later; I didn’t want anything to do with anyone living in this house. Someone knocked on the door again; this time, a voice was talking to me.

“Micah,” I heard my dad’s voice. “It’s dad.” I rolled my eyes and got up from my seat, not having the energy to be rebellious in this moment. I opened the door and walked back to my desk, not paying my dad any mind as he entered my room. He closed the door behind him and sighed before he said anything to me.

“Can we talk?” he simply asked. I didn’t answer him back and he started walking towards me and sat at the edge of the bed, facing me at my desk. “I’m not here to fight with you.”

“Good, then leave,” I dismissed without even looking at him.

“Micah,” my father said gently. I didn’t answer him, but he adjusted in his seat and sighed once more. “Daniella has your equipment at her apartment. She and her boyfriend made sure they took your belongings before the party was shut down.”

“That’s reassuring,” I said, still not wanting to have a conversation with my dad.

“Micah, you got into some questionable things before in the past, but nothing that ever led to you being arrested,” my dad finally began to say. “Nothing that required us to play bail in order your you to get released.” Fuck. I felt bad that they had to spend money to get me out of a situation that I shouldn’t have ever been in in the first place. “Nothing that required stitches on your body. I need to know what happened so that–“

“So that what? You can feel better that your delinquent son has a reason in why he did what he did?” I spat back.

“Micah, the officers told your mom that you’re lucky the billionaire’s son isn’t pressing charges,” my dad explained. “And I want to know why he isn’t.”

“Dad,” I whined, turning my chair to now face him. “Does it matter? I was thrown in bookings, and he was able to get out free because he’s filthy rich.”

“I’m trying to save face for you, Micah,” my dad sternly stated. “Your mom was already on one, talking about possibly kicking you out.” I turned around to finally look at my dad in the face. Kick me out? Is that really her last resort in “handling” me?

“Then I guess I should make her wish come true.” I got up from my seat and walked to my closet, pulling out a suitcase buried underneath a pile of shoved clothes.

“Micah, please—”

“No!” I shouted, even angrier than before. “Maybe I’m tired of being the black fucking sheep in this family! Maybe I’m tired of being known as the problematic middle child that doesn’t conform to their family’s image. Maybe I am tired of seeing mom be so upset with the decisions I make and label me like some fucking psycho. Maybe I’m tired!” I stood there, pleading to my father who’s now staring at me dead in the face. I was never really that close to my dad; it seems like he was too busy trying to keep Milo in the right track growing up. After he left for college, his attention went to being the “overprotective girl dad”.

It was my mom that constantly had to keep track on me, so it hurts to hear my dad tell me she would be willing to kick me out of the house, despite everything we went through.

I don’t know when I started to cry, but it happened so fast that I didn’t even realize my dad pulled me in to a tight hug. We were never close when I was growing up, but this was the first time I could remember my dad comforting me.

Maybe he knew I needed it.