The "Something" Series: Season 2

Something Too Close to Home: A Monologue.

liz

It was snowing the night Grace told me she was once pregnant with our child. Once.

She couldn’t stop crying. As confused and upset and sick as the thought of Grace keeping something like that from me made me, I was worried about her. She was just bones; it looked like she hadn’t eaten in days. She was wasting away, keeping this inside her soul which then began to eat away at her. Shawn and Kevin have found her at the bar that night, drunk and close to completely blacking out. Grace and I weren’t even together at the time, yet for some reason, they knew that I would take care of her that night. She said was supposed to go out that night with Ari and Dean. Maybe she lied about that. Maybe she was just lonely with her thoughts. She was lonely with just her thoughts.

I regret leaving her in New York alone with nothing but her thoughts.

…

I didn’t know it could rain so heavily in California, but it started to pour as the hours passed during the night. I told Shawn to go up to his room to calm down; his yelling and anger were not helping the situation. Shawn couldn’t understand the wave of emotions that Kevin was possibly feeling at this moment, yet Kevin couldn’t understand the wave of emotions Shawn was possibly feeling at this moment.

I understand Shawn. He fell in love with an American woman knowing that it would be complicated once things got difficult. He knew he would have to return to Korea once the visa was up. He knew he couldn’t ask Skylar to drop her entire life here in California to be with him in a foreign country. He knew that he couldn’t help himself when he began to fall in love with Skylar. Love happens quickly; it waits for no one to figure things out. Once you feel just a tiny amount of love for someone; someone that you see spending your life with, someone that makes you instantly smile just by seeing them… that’s it. There’s no turning back from unloving a person; it can never be undone.

I understand Kevin. He fell in love with a woman back in Korea and he isn’t there to comfort her or be with her during a time when she’s probably terrified and unsure about what to do next. Korean women that get pregnant before marriage instantly feel like impure women; it’s why my sister Mina got married to her husband three months after finding out she was pregnant with my first niece. JooAh is no exception, and Kevin knows this. But I didn’t relate to Kevin because he got a Korean woman pregnant; Kevin can always go back home and be with the mother of his unborn child if he wanted to. That’s what he wanted to do, and I don’t blame him for doing just that. If life was that easy for Grace and me at the time, I would’ve went back to America to be with her. But Grace and I were never conventional.

I sat across from Kevin, looking at him as he rubbed his eyes. This was the most movement he’s made in the past hour. He was clearly trying to piece everything together in his head.

“I-I don’t know how it happened,” Kevin said erratically. “I mean, I know how it happened, but… we were careful. We always were, and–“

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Kevin,” I interrupted. Quite frankly, I didn’t care that he got his girlfriend pregnant. Kevin loves JooAh, and I think if Kevin was back in Korea and he found this out, he’d be the happiest man alive. But he’s not; he’s here in America about 16 hours behind just wanting to be with JooAh. I get it.

“Shawn is so mad at me, hyung,” Kevin stated. “I don’t know if he’ll ever talk to me again.”

“I don’t understand, why did he break up with Skylar? Did you tell him he had to or something?” I asked. I was still trying to piece everything together, hoping it would make sense.

“When I told him I had to go back to Korea because of JooAh, he panicked,” Kevin began explaining. “He wanted to stay for Skylar.”

“Again, I don’t understand how you having to go back home affects Shawn,” I emphasized. Kevin finally looked at me.

“Hyung,” Kevin started out. “The group visa. We all have to go together.”

Fuck. We never thought about getting a group visa would have its consequences. We were just a couple of friends coming here on a group visa for the summer; nothing more or nothing less. It was a lot easier to apply for the group visa because it required less time to get it. We have never traveled outside of the country together if it wasn’t for business, so getting the individual visas would’ve taken some time to get. But who fucking knew life would be like this? Kevin becoming a father. Shawn falling in love with a woman in California.

Me reuniting with Grace. Fuck… Grace.

“I’m so sorry for ruining this trip,” Kevin began to shake his head, looking down to the floor. “This wouldn’t have happened; this shouldn’t have happened, I–“

I was leaving Grace again. She had just opened up to me tonight and here I am, leaving her like I always did when we were together. Leaving her in California with nothing but her thoughts.

“You have to do what you have to do as a man,” I said to Kevin. Maybe I was more so saying this to myself; I wish I had said it to myself when the time mattered. “You have to be there for JooAh and the only way you can do that is to be there with her.” Kevin didn’t say anything, so I got up and began walking to the staircase. It was nearing 4AM and I was exhausted. It doesn’t even feel like I was happy with Grace just a couple of hours ago.

“Hyung,” Kevin called out. I turned around to face him. He was still sitting at the same spot on the sofa. “I’m so sorry.” I wonder if he’s sorry because he senses leaving Grace again will take a toll on me again.

“Get some rest, Kevin,” I answered. I turned back toward the staircase and walked up the stairs; exhausted and defeated.

The Teenage Monologues.

Who; Me?: A Mollie Monologue.

liz

It’s the day we all go in front of the class and out-sing each other like it’s a fucking talent show. I’ll be honest, I did not prepare for this assignment like everyone else has. Everyone else came in costumes, with accompanying instruments and all of that. Me? I showed up in my converse, an old t-shirt from the bottom of one of my drawers, and some jeans. I see Milo setting toning some of the strings on the piano in the front. It wouldn’t be Milo if he didn’t go over the top and beyond with his assignments.

I walked over to him and sat next to him on the piano bench, watching him do whatever the fuck he does to make it sound good.

“So, you’re ready?” I asked. Milo got up and looked at me stressed out. I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows in shock.

“I literally just had a similar assignment in band class during 6th period,” Milo spoke as he fixed the piano strings. “Literally it’s like the whole school got the same assignments planned for the same day.”

“Well, that’s what you get when you’re dual majoring,” I teased. I always threw the dual major thing in his face. I told him to just pick a damn major; nope, he wanted to be the next best thing and go for two. Milo looked at me, still not amused. Mr. Kamalant walks into the classroom and everyone goes to sit in their seats.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Kamalani starts. “We have a lot of people to get to, so the sooner we start, the sooner we can move through everyone. Who wants to go first?”

No one raises their hand; it was like everyone was scared all of a sudden. I looked at Milo, who looked towards the ground so that he doesn’t get called. I couldn’t help but sigh loudly. I raised my hand as Mr. Kamalani looked in my direction.

“Ms. Castro,” he called. I got up from my seat and walked towards the front. When I look out towards the class, everyone has their eyes on me. Fuck, I’m now nervous.

“Hey, I’m Mollie,” I started. I looked towards Laurie, giggling with her new minions in the corner of the classroom. “I’m going to sing a song called ‘Quiet’.”

“Yeah, can you be quiet, please?” Laurie called out and started laughing with her new friends. Before I could say anything back, some other kid towards the back of the room looks over at Laurie.

“Can you shut up and just let her sing?” he said. Laurie looked offended, and Mr. Kamalani broke up the talking.

“Mr. Serrano,” he called out for the boy. He put the palms of his hands up as if he’s trying to say “you got it, teach!” I was relieved someone said something to that bitch. Without any other interruptions, I sing.

The truth is vocal wasn’t my first pick when I got into Waverly. I am a dancer, and I’ve been one for most of my life. Why didn’t I come to Waverly for dance then? Because dancing was something personal to me. I got into dancing to get away from everyone and their drama. I didn’t want to ruin it in high school where most of the girls trained in ballet since they were born. I didn’t want to be around dancers like that, but like the ones in my sister’s academy.

My family was excited when I told him I was thinking about going to Waverly. They all were so happy that I was going to be following in my older sisters’ footsteps and going into the vocal program. Singing was cool, and maybe a bit more tolerable than dancing, but my heart is in dance. Being in vocal s to just make my family proud of me for once.

I sing the song and while I sing, the rest of the classroom is dead silent. I don’t know if that was a good thing, but when I stopped singing, the class clapped for me. It felt really good to see a bunch of other singers actually clap for me. Mr. Kamalani stood up and looked in a notebook that was in his hands.

“Well, I think you knew exactly what your vocal range is,” he started. “I think you will be great as a first soprano.” I smiled, excited to be singing some of the highest parts in the choir. I went back to my seat and Milo gave me a hi-five. Maybe I do belong here.

…

Today, Milo isn’t at lunch with me, and I’m a bit bummed since he’s really the only other friend I have, despite Ronnie who’s been home sick after eating something even too questionable for me. Anyway, Milo ran off to a practice room to help Sophie with her assignment for their band class. I don’t care what he says; they are totally dating, and if not, he totally likes her. Whatever though, I don’t really care.

I sit at my usual spot in the lunchroom by myself, probably just gonna eat and scroll through social media or something. Anything to pass this boring ass lunch period.

“Anyone sitting here?” a voice says to me. I look up, not expecting anyone to sit with me, let alone Aaron Serrano.

“Nope,” I answered. He then sat down across from me with his lunch tray. I tried to not pay him any attention, but it was kinda hard to since he kept looking at me.

“You have an amazing voice by the way,” Aaron randomly said. “Deadass one of the best voices in that class.”

“Who, me?” I asked. I almost didn’t believe him when he said that. Was he just being nice to me for the sake of being nice? He smiled at my question.

“Yes, you,” Aaron answered. “You really have mad talent.”

“Thanks,” I politely said. “Also, thanks for saying what you said when Laurie tried to make fun of me.”

“Who’s Laurie?” Aaron asked. I laughed.

“The girl that tried to have the last laugh in vocal,” I answered back. Aaron’s eyebrows went up; I guess he remembers who I’m talking about.

“The blonde chick that was sharp for half of her song?” he said. I nearly choked on my chocolate milk for laughing.

“That’s mad funny,” I couldn’t help but feel hella relaxed talking to Aaron. He was cool. I crossed my arms and placed them on the table, now talking to Aaron. “You’re ready to present today?”

Aaron sucked in a breath; he looked nervous. “I’m a little nervous. I’m more of an instrument player than a vocalist. Like, I just had to present for my band ensemble; it was a piece of cake. Vocal? I definitely get worried.”

“Wait, are you a dual major?” I asked. Of course he fucking is, Mol; he just said he had this same assignment in his band class! Aaron nodded his head.

“I am,” he answered. “Band and Vocal.”

“That’s dope,” I said, taking a sip of my chocolate milk.

“Are you as well?”

“Oh no,” I quickly answered back. “That’s twice the work you gotta put in.” Aaron laughs and scrunches his nose up.

“Ouch,” Aaron says while holding his heart. I can’t help but laugh. “Seriously though, I thought you were as well because you’re crazy talented in singing.”

“And you’re probably just as crazy talented if you’re in here for two majors,” I added. Aaron smiled.

“I guess it takes one to know one,” Aaron responded. Sly as fuck.

The "Something" Series: Season 2

Temporarily High off of Something: Two Monologues.

liz

I closed the front door once I entered it. I immediately took off my shoes and walked more into the condo. Looking at the time on my phone, it was about 1 in the morning. Jamie had dropped me off by the gate; he insisted on driving me to the front of the condo since it was so late, but I told him I was fine I needed those extra 5 minutes to be completely by myself; just me and my thoughts.

I threw my bag on the living room couch when I see a dim light on in the kitchen. I rolled my eyes, thinking Skylar left it on before she went to sleep. She didn’t, because when I walked into the kitchen to turn it off, she was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee.

“Hey,” I said to Skylar. She didn’t say anything back. I walked toward Skylar and sat next to her. She finally looks in my direction. It looks like she’d been crying. “Are you okay?”

Skylar didn’t say anything, but the tears began to silently run down her face. She sniffles and then takes a deep breath in and lets it out. “I swear our family is cursed,” she finally said. I couldn’t help but laugh at the response; it was so completely random, yet very much like Skylar.

“Sky, what are you talking about?” I asked gently. She wipes the tears from her face, even though they keep running down her cheeks. I was now concerned. “Skylar?”

“How did you do this with Jamie for years, Grace?” Skylar finally said. I had no idea what she was talking about. What did I do with Jamie for years? Fuck, has it really been years since I’ve known Jamie?

“Did what with Jamie?” I asked.

“Love him,” Skylar began. “And watch him leave over and over again.” I was so confused about where she was going with this until it finally began to click inside my head. This is the first time I ever heard Skylar talk like this; so serious.

“Sky,” I began. I wanted to know the answer without scaring Skylar off. I guess it was an Ashmore women thing in my family; we always tend to run off whenever we are scared of the truth. “Do you love Shawn?”

Skylar’s tears fall faster on her face. Her sniffles get louder and she takes a deep breath.

“It fucking sucks, to say the least,” Skylar teased. I faintly smiled; Skylar always tried to make a joke out of anything just so that the attention wasn’t on her in a negative way. “I fell in love; fuck, I love a man that was too good to be true.”

“What happened between you two?” I asked. I guess I knew for the longest time that Skylar was falling in love with Shawn. She spent almost all of her time with him; it felt like Shawn was even living here at one point. Skylar was not one to fall in love; she was young and wild and she wanted nothing more to live her life that way; I guess I could relate in a way. Her mom and my uncle Mason divorced when she was young; I had to have been at least 10 years old when that happened. I remember listening to my dad and Uncle Mason talk downstairs from the hallway upstairs in my childhood home back in Virginia. Skylar was sound asleep on the sofa in the living room, not knowing what happened. I guess as she got older, she was able to understand it better; her mother wanted nothing to do with her or my Uncle Mason. I guess I knew how that felt because I grew up believing the same things about my own mom. But I was lucky to get her back in my life and for my dad to have her back in his life too. Skylar’s mom never came back. She killed herself a couple of years after the divorce; Skylar was just turning 13.

Skylar took a deep breath before she spoke. “Shawn has been the best thing to happen to me, Grace. I felt like I met my soulmate, and…” She couldn’t finish her sentence without sniffling. “I feel stupid for loving a person that can’t be here with me.”

“I feel stupid for loving a person that can’t be here with me,” I said as I sat on the chair across from Chelsea. She wrote notes down in a notebook as I spoke.

“Is that why you decided to terminate your pregnancy?” Chelsea asked me softly. Tears came down my face. I didn’t say anything back.

“You’re not stupid for loving him, Sky,” I reassured. Skylar looked at me, annoyed that I could say such a thing. “What?” I finally questioned.

“Someone who loves you back wouldn’t nonchalantly break up with you and not give you a good enough reason to do so,” Skylar spat out. I cocked my eyebrows up; he broke up with Skylar? I don’t know Shawn that well, but if he’s one of Jamie’s closest friends, then he should be a good guy.

“He broke up with you and didn’t say why?” I asked. Skylar shook her head as she wiped the tears falling on her face.

“This fucking hurts, Grace,” Skylar said and began to heave on my shoulder. I tried to comfort Skylar as best as I could. Nothing was making sense. I saw how Shawn looked at her. He would look at her like Skylar was the most expensive fucking diamond to exist. He was always attentive to Skylar; what she did, when she spoke… Shawn loves Skylar, and I didn’t understand what changed. Something happened that he’s not telling her.

If he’s not telling her what happened, then Jamie is also not telling me something.

“All he said was that he’s sorry. He didn’t want to hurt me but, y’know, it was too fucking late for that,” Skylar said as she blew her nose into a napkin. What the fuck is going on with them?

Then it hits me. “How did you do this with Jamie for years, Grace? Love him, and then watch him leave over and over again.”

“Did Shawn say he was leaving?” I asked. Skylar just cried out more.

…

I didn’t realize both Shawn and Kevin were sitting on the living room sofa, sharing nothing but the silence between them. I closed the front door and took off my shoes as I walked in into the living room.

“It’s nearly 2 in the morning; why are you both still awake?” I asked as I sat on one of the seats in the living room. They didn’t respond, it was very unlikely to see them so serious like this. Something was wrong. “Shawn? Kevin?”

They both shifted in their seats. Shawn visibly looked angry when looking at Kevin. The only other time I saw Shawn this angry was when we had our argument about the Voyage night trip with Skylar and Grace. Shawn only felt strongly about things he was passionate about; it was when I knew he felt so passionate about Skylar. Did something happen between him and Skylar?

Kevin, on the other hand, didn’t bother looking up at me. It wasn’t like Kevin to open up and say what was going on; he was typically the first one to do so. Both of their behaviors right now are making me nervous. What did they do while I was out with Grace tonight? I was growing impatient.

“Someone better tell me what’s going on, now,” I sternly said to both of them. Shawn crosses his arms and leans back at the chair, still looking at Kevin.

“Yeah, Kevin; tell Jamie hyung what’s going on,” Shawn aggressively demanded. Kevin didn’t say anything back, and I swear this all feels so foreign. Shawn never spoke to Kevin this way, and Kevin never allowed Shawn to talk to him like that either. I looked at Kevin, wishing he would speak up already and say what happened.

“Kevin?” I asked him. Kevin slowly looked up at me. His face was pale; ill even. I was worried for Kevin. What happened? Why is Shawn so angry at Kevin? What the hell is going on?

Kevin shifted in his seat and parted his mouth, ready to speak. “I,” Kevin began, but Shawn immediately interrupted.

“How can you do this to me, Kevin? You know how much I fucking love Skylar?” Shawn spat. I watched Shwan speak, not realizing that he had just admitted to being in love with Skylar. Shawn has never been in love with a woman before, yet he said it so comfortably; it’s like he knew he’s loved her for weeks already.

“I…” Kevin began before he let out a deep sigh. “I’m leaving to go back to Korea tomorrow night.”

I scrunched my eyebrows, not understanding where this was coming from. I mean, sure, he probably misses JooAh and wants to be with her, but still… why is Shawn so angry?

“Did JooAh ask you to go back home?” I asked Kevin. He didn’t answer, which made Shawn become in raged. He gets up from his seat and points at Kevin before yelling.

“I had to break up with Skylar because of your careless decisions!” Shawn spat. I had to step in and be the moderator in this situation.

“Everyone just, calm down!” I stood up and said sternly. I looked over at Kevin, wanting to know why was he leaving America all of a sudden. We had only been here for about 6 weeks; we had another 6 weeks before our visas expire and our trip would be over. “Kevin, why are you going back to Korea so soon?” I gently asked. Kevin looked back up at me, still nervous to say anything. I was growing impatient with Kevin, but this just wasn’t like him to be so… small.

“Just fucking say it!” Shawn shouted. I turned my head toward Shawn.

“Ya!” I tried to calm down Shawn and keep him quiet to let Kevin speak. I turned back toward Kevin. “Why are you leaving so soon?”

“JooAh’s pregnant,” Kevin confessed.

The Teenage Monologues.

You, Me, and the Music: A Sophie Monologue.

liz

Milo yanked my arm down the street, not answering any of the questions I had for him. The violin case on my back hits against me every time Milo pulls my arm a little too far from where the rest of my body is.

“Milo,” I tried to call out for him again, but this time I made us stop. He turns around when he notices my hand is not in his anymore. “For the last time, where are we going?”

Milo smiled. “You’ll see,” Milo answered. “We’re a couple of blocks away, Scout.” He wasn’t wrong. A couple of minutes later, we stopped in front of a building, a storefront of some sort. I looked up at the sign that reads, “Castro Dance Academy”.

“Why are we here?” I asked MIlo as I looked at him. He rings the doorbell of the studio, and to my surprise, Mrs. Kamalani opens the front door.

“Hello,” Mrs. Kamalani smiled and greeted us. Milo walked into the studio without hesitation; I on the other hand was terrified at being in a dance studio with his step-mum alone.

“Hi, Mrs. Kamalani,” I greeted her, yet was so nervous that when I said hi, I bowed to her out of respect. I immediately turn red, realizing that doing so isn’t normal in American culture. I immediately shot up and corrected myself. “I mean, hi Pep.”

Mrs. Kamalani smiled as I greeted her. I looked over to Milo, whose face was even redder than mine.

“Hi, Sophie! I’m glad to see you and Milo here working on your assignments,” she said as she walked further into the studio. The studio was spacious and decorated to seem fit a dance studio. I stood in the middle of the dance studio, watching Milo come in and out of a small storage closet.

“So, we have to get busy, so…” Milo said to Mrs. Kamalani. She nodded.

“Gotcha, you want me out of your hair. Well, we have to leave by 4 since I have to pick up the girls from Grandma’s,” Mrs. Kamalani walked towards an office room and closed the door behind her. Milo turned around to look at me, smiling.

“You like the surprise?” Milo asked.

“I feel honored to practice in a real studio,” I answered, looking around the studio. Milo took the liberty to take my violin case off my back and set it down next to a folding chair next to a music stand. I blushed at the gesture.

“So do you have any idea what you want to play for this assignment?” Milo asked. I shrugged my shoulders before answering.

“I was going to play the piece I did for the audition,” I answered. Milo didn’t look amused.

“Scout,” Milo began. “Your audition piece was bomb, but that was middle-school Scout. She’s definitely a better player now than that audition.”

“And what were you thinking of doing for the assignment?” I asked back. Milo smiled his infamous “I got confidence” smile. I hope to one day have confidence in my craft the way Milo does.

“I was going to actually make a song,” Milo said. He took out his laptop and began to play a beat. He then took out his drum sticks, in which he began to play over the beat with his practice drum. I’ve heard Milo play in the past, but something about his music playing these days just feels different. I feel like I am sitting in front of a celebrity when I hear him play. It makes me smile to think that not many get the chance to be in a studio playing with Milo Kamalani: one of the school’s fewest dual majors. When he’s done, I clap like an audience member witnessing magic on the Carnegie Hall stage.

“That. Was. Amazing!” I said, really excited for Milo. “You make this assignment actually look like a piece of cake.”

“It is,” Milo stated. “And I know that you’re gonna make it look easy too.” My smile fades away, now having to think about what it is that my assignment will look like. I can’t lie; I still feel like I shouldn’t be in this band ensemble because of how many few girls are in it. I feel like the boys in the class look at me like I’m in the wrong classroom. There was a lot of talent in our band ensemble and sometimes, I feel more like a viewer than an actual participating member of the ensemble.

“I still don’t know what I should do for this assignment,” I said a little more defeated than I intended. Milo’s smile fades until he gets an idea.

“How about a cover of a modern song?” Milo suggested. I look at Milo as if he had five heads all speaking a different language.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked. Milo goes into his bookbag and pulls out a book of sheet music. After bookbag has a small keyboard in it. I’m amazed at just how prepared he is. He flips through the book and stops at one song. He begins to play the keyboard to a song that plays on the radio. Naturally, I play the violin along. I didn’t know I was capable of just jumping into it. I was always taught that you should always have music to play to, and you should always follow it. Milo has time and time again shown me that it’s okay to break the rules.

“Now that was even better than bomb,” Milo complimented me. I smiled and shared a comfortable silence with him until my phone rang in my bookbag. I walked over to it to see who it could be; it was most likely my mom just asking when will I be home. I looked down at my phone screen to see a blocked number from the UK. Dad. I immediately mute my phone and put it back into my bookbag.

The "Something" Series: Season 2

Something Out of the Blue: A Monologue.

liz

Nothing but the radio and GPS play inside the car. I don’t know how car rides with Grace became a space where we share silence, but I guess we were always like that. Maybe that happened the night when Grace drove me back to my temporary apartment in New York; the night I was supposed to go back to Korea for the first time. I wish I spoke to her during that ride; I know she probably had a lot to say and instead, I avoided it just so I didn’t have to deal with Grace being hurt by my actions.

But I remember her face pretty well that night. She barely turned her head to look at me, and I learned early on in knowing Grace that she hates looking at people when she’s upset. She was a crybaby; I knew that since the very beginning of getting to know her, yet she didn’t want anyone to realize that she wasn’t always this strong, independent woman that she wanted to be. She was vulnerable when it came to the things that she cared about. I saw that as soon as I saw her with little bean; her daughter, Willow. It must hurt her knowing she’s 3,000 miles away from Willow.

I looked at Grace and all she did was look out the window, without saying anything.

“You know,” I started to say. Grace still didn’t turn her head. “You can always come to me if you ever need to talk things out or vent.”

“What makes you say that?” Grace said. I could see that she turned her head to face me from the corner of my eye.

“You seem like you have some stuff on your mind,” I answered. “I noticed back at the karaoke room and on the boardwalk. I didn’t want to say anything to ruin your night–“

“Everything’s fine, Jamie,” Grace said. She looked back towards the window. I looked at her briefly before I continued looking forward, driving.

“Nice try,” I answered back, throwing what she said to me on the boardwalk back to her. it’s finally when both Grace and I look at each other for the first time since getting into the car. “So what are you really thinking about?” Grace doesn’t say anything right away, and I didn’t expect her to say anything. Grace never did anything she didn’t want to do, and this time was no exception.

“Do you ever miss home when you’re away?” Grace randomly asked. I didn’t know what to think of it, and to be honest I didn’t know how to answer. Honestly? Truthfully?

“Home is what you make it,” I answered. “It’s how I see it whenever I’m away from Korea. Of course, Korea is where my home is, but wherever I am, I also make it my home. I guess it makes it easier.”

“Did you always feel that way or did that come with time?” Grace asked, now with her complete body facing me. I looked over at her briefly and back toward the road.

“It came with time,” I answered. I didn’t realize that it came with time, to be honest; I haven’t put much thought into it. Sure, the first time I left Korea with my Korean-English dictionary to vacation in California I was immensely homesick, and I don’t know how that changed so quickly by the time I was in America on business. It changed with time; knowing New York and being with Grace… it made it easier to make that out of a home.

It was my favorite home, to say the least. It’s the home where I experience being homesick the most.

Grace sighed and looked forward toward the road before we spoke.

“I miss my daughter,” Grace confessed. I didn’t say anything right away. This felt like a moment where Grace wasn’t just speaking to me and being honest; she was confessing to the universe, to herself. “Every day I feel like a terrible mother for leaving her in New York. She’s getting older and… she’s going to remember this; how her mom wasn’t there with her as she was.” I looked over to Grace; she still hasn’t moved her head away.

“Have you been back since being in California?” I gently asked. She softly shook her head no.

“I’m too scared to go back to New York. I don’t know if I ever will.” Grace admitted. A part of me feels extremely guilty for the way Grace feels. A part of me blames myself; how did I fuck up someone’s home to the point they are scared to return to it? I can’t help but feel so sad for Grace. At least I can go back to Korea without anything holding me back. Grace doesn’t have that.

Grace looks at me and faintly smiles; even when she’s going through a hard time, she always tries to be strong to those around her. At the red light, I stop and finally get a good look at Grace. I finally noticed the dry tears on her face. Aigoo.

“You don’t always have to be strong, Grace,” I said softly. “You’re allowed to be sad and scared and… vulnerable. You don’t need to put on a fake smile for anyone.” Grace’s smile immediately fades; it’s like she was holding all of this in for hours, days or months even. Because she starts to cry; the tears on her face roll down her cheeks immediately.

“I feel so lonely here, Jamie,” Grace spits out. “Skylar is never around and I literally have no one else here. So why am I here? Why am I trying so hard to make this city my home if I don’t feel like I have anything to make this my home?” The light turns green, but I don’t continue driving forward. I take a right turn into a gas station parking lot; it didn’t feel right driving and not giving Grace my undivided attention. I always stopped what I was doing for her.

I don’t say anything. I allow Grace to just talk because who’s to say she hasn’t kept this inside her soul for the time she’s been in California? She deserves someone to listen to her and comfort her. She deserves the entire fucking world.

“Why are you scared to go back to New York?” I finally answered once she stops speaking. She doesn’t answer right away; she wipes falling tears off of her face. I was scared to know the answer myself knowing it could possibly confirm why I feel like absolute shit.

“I’m afraid everyone has moved on. Like no one ever needed me,” Grace explained. I couldn’t help but scrunch my eyebrows together. Grace Ashmore, the woman that I met in New York, feels like her friends and family back home don’t need her anymore.

“I mean, I needed you,” I admitted. What are you doing, Jaemin-ah? “You’ve helped me get around the city my first time there, and,” I began to trail off. “Willow will always need you. You’re her mother no matter how far you are.” Grace looks down at her hands; she does that when she’s nervous and she rips her cuticles from her fingers as a distraction.

“Hey?” I called out for her. Grace finally looks back up at me. I don’t know where I was going with this, but all I wanted was for Grace to know she is always welcomed no matter where she goes. She’s allowed to go back home and not feel like she doesn’t belong anymore. “You should go and make a visit to New York. Seeing Willow in person will make you feel so much better. You shouldn’t be scared to go back.”

Grace faintly smiles and wipes the tears off her face with the palm of her hand. I reached into the glove department and handed Grace the tissues. She accepts the offer and cleans her face with the tissues. Before I restart the car to take Grace home, she speaks out loud again, something that I think she meant to ask herself instead of me.

“You never answered my question,” Grace says to me. I looked at her and leaned back into the seat. She blinked slowly before she spoke. “Do you ever miss home when you’re away?”

Korea; no. New York; every single goddamn day.

Misc., The Teenage Monologues.

One in the Same: A Milo Monologue.

liz

I reached into my bookbag to get out my notebook for band class, as well as my drumsticks. Huge drums surround me every 6th period, and I swear it makes me happier as the days pass. More of my bandmates come into the classroom, sitting in their assigned seats and taking out their instruments. As I tune the drums next to me, I hear a girl’s voice and immediately look up. It’s Sophie.

“Hey, Milo,” she greets me. I smile at her and give her a hug.

“Hey, Scout. Ready for class today?”

“Of course! I’m interested to finally see the piece we’ll be learning for the showcase,” Sophie answered excitedly. I smiled at her, but couldn’t help the other bandmates all look at Sophie as they passed by her. It annoys me that even a couple of days into school, they still can’t get over the fact that she’s one of the only girls in band class. Sophie looks at me and her smile fades; I guess she already knows what’s going on.

“Hey, don’t be down,” I reassured her. “Don’t let these boys make you feel like you don’t belong here. They don’t know your mad skills yet. She finally smiled again, which makes me happy.

“Thanks, Milo. You always know what to say,” Sophie said. Our faces were pretty close, and she didn’t move away from where she was standing. It was weird with Sophie; I never knew if she wanted to be more than friends, but I was always worried to scare her off if I told her I wanted to be more than friends. We haven’t spoken about any of the kisses we shared when we were in middle school. Sometimes I feel like she just wants to forget they even never happened. Me, I can’t stop thinking about them.

“Alright, alright; excuse me,” another voice is heard. I turn around and see Aaron standing there, trying to make his way towards the percussion area to his seat. Sophie steps back and walks back to her seat. I rolled my eyes at Aaron. Always ruining my mood somehow.

Our teacher, Mr. Harrison, comes in and quiets down the class.

“Hello, everyone,” Mr. Harrison greeted us and placed his briefcase on top of his desk. “Today we are going to talk about the assignment that is due on Monday. It is simply just a one-minute piece of what instrument you play and one of your favorite pieces to play. As these will be your bandmates for the next four years, it is important that we know each other’s strengths and weaknesses in order to become one ensemble.”

I look at Sophie from the strings section. She takes notes in her notebook while everyone around her just sits there and looks at Mr. Harrison. I guess that’s what makes Sophie the smartest girl in her classes; she’s always writing notes.

I look to my left and see Aaron taking notes in his notebook as well. Might as well take notes too.

…

I walk into vocal early and see my dad sitting at his desk. He looks up to see who’s walking into his classroom.

“Milo?” my dad said. I went to sit at my set and placed my bag on the ground.

“Hey,” I responded back. My dad leaned on the back of his chair and crossed his arms.

“What do you need from me, Milo?” he asked. My dad always knew that whenever I needed something from him, I would be extra good or actually be in my dad’s presence like I wanted to. I sighed, letting go of the persona.

“Do you think Jennifer can let me use the studio on Saturday?” I asked.

“What’s wrong with the one downstairs?”

“It’s at the house,” I answered, looking at my dad like he wasn’t understanding.

“Milo, it’s still a studio place where you can practice,” my dad tried to convince me, but I didn’t want to change my mind.

“Please, dad? Sophie and I have an assignment due next week and–” Before I could finish my sentence, my dad smiles and laughs to himself before looking at me.

“Is this more about impressing Sophie than the assignment?” my dad asked as he crossed his arms. To be quite honest, it was totally about impressing Sophie, but my dad didn’t need to know that.

“No! It’s just,” I had a hard time figuring out what I wanted to say. “It’s just… that at home, everyone’s gonna be home! Jennifer, Micah, and the twins; I just want to have quiet space to work on this music assignment.” I don’t know if my dad bought it, and I guess I’ll find out since the bell for last period rings and the first person in class besides me is Aaron.

“Good Afternoon, Mr. Serrano,” my dad greets Aaron as he takes his seat. My dad looks at me before continuing. “You can take a seat, Mr. Kamalani.” I rolled my eyes and went back to my seat. More and more students come into the class and then my dad clears his throat to start today’s class.

“Alright, guys; I would like for you all to prepare a song for next week’s class. You will be performing it in front of the class! Please choose a song that you believe best fits your vocal range as this assignment will determine your specific section in this choir,” my dad walked to the blackboard and wrote a couple of words down before turning around towards us again. “This choir will have 8 sections: first and second for sopranos, altos, and tenors while finishing it off with baritone and bass. Please do not come into this class on Monday singing Mariah Carey notes if you know your voice can only go as high as a first alto or second soprano.” My dad stopped talking and pointed to someone at the other end of the classroom, I look in the direction he is pointing at.

“Question, Mr. Serrano?” My dad asked.

“Can it be an original song that we wrote?” Aaron asks. I feel Mollie nudge my right arm.

“Look at Mr. Over-Achiever,” Mollie teases. I don’t answer back, I just watch my dad and Aaron talk back and forth with each other.

“Of course! I’m not sure how many of you are dual majors,” my dad started. I roll my eyes at even the sound of my dad mentioning the dual majors. Yes, I am one myself, but I would never flaunt it to the other students who were lucky enough to get into one program. Aaron seems to find the opportunity to share his status no matter where he is.

“But if you are one,” my dad continued. “We would love to see any other talents you may have in this assignment. The more we know about you, the better the teamwork will become once we start learning music.”

“Might as well just share that you’re a dual major,” I whispered to Mollie, who laughs in her seat. I couldn’t help but mimic how fucking bratty that guy sounds. It makes Mollie laugh even more.

“Excuse me, Ms. Castro and Mr. Kamalani,” my dad looked over at us. “Please stop disrupting the class. This is your first warning.” When he looks away from us, I roll my eyes. It’s bad enough I get scolded by my dad whenever I get into trouble at home; it sucks I gotta get it from him as my goddamn vocal teacher. My dad kept teaching and I did nothing but hide my face with my hair, waiting for the class to be finally over.

The "Something" Series: Season 2

Something To Keep You Going: A Monologue.

liz

I forgot what it was like to be in a noraebang– I mean, a karaoke room.

The last time was for Grace’s 26th birthday. It was my first time being in New York, and I had only known Grace for a couple of months at the time. It was also my first time ever wearing something so casual; she specifically requested for me to wear something that wasn’t something along the lines of “slacks and a button-down shirt”. To come and think of it, I’ve had many firsts back in New York with Grace.

I wonder if any of her firsts were also with me, back in New York.

“Jamie?” Grace snapped her fingers in my face. I looked down at her, immediately coming back to the present, gathering my surroundings. Grace was standing there with her hair tied up in a bun, wearing a floral, red summer dress.

“Huh? Sorry, what was that?” I asked. Grace rolled her eyes at me.

“1 hour or 2 hours for the karaoke room?” Grace asked. I couldn’t pinpoint what was bothering Grace, but Grace felt a little lost in thought tonight. I don’t know if coming out tonight was the best decision to make.

“1 hour is fine,” I answered. “We can grab something to eat afterward if you’re hungry.” Grace nodded her head and let the person in the front counter. The woman looked up from the computer to look at us both.

“Would you like a room with the mini-bar in it?” the woman asked. “It’s quite popular these days when people come to the karaoke room–“

“No alcohol please,” I quickly answered. “Uhm, a regular room is fine.” The woman nodded her head and gave us one of the keys to the karaoke room. I felt my face getting red. We thanked the woman and proceeded to walk to our karaoke room.

Once we got into the room, the LED lights were blinking and shining all throughout the little space. It reminded me so much of noraebang and how the guys and I would drink rounds of soju before coming to one of these rooms. It’s times like this when I get sort of homesick.

But then Grace turns around and smiles; all teeth and gums. I can’t help but smile back. She picked up one of the microphones on the table and held it up in the air.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Grace confidently said. I grabbed the tablet from the table and started looking through the song selections.

“Okay, so… whistle notes and high notes?” I teased. Grace widened her eyes and laughed.

“Jamie,” Grace called out my name. This time, the way she called out my name felt like comfort. It was the way she would emphasize the ‘e’ in my name, like a little child not getting what they wanted. But she knew that when she said my name like that, she always would win. She knew she had that affect on me, even if she didn’t realize it.

“Okay, okay!” I caved in. Aigoo. I looked through the song selections and come across a song I was actually familiar with. I pressed play, and the screen went black. Grace looked at the screen until the title of the song came up. She immediately laughed.

“Dreams by Fleetwood Mac?” Grace turned around and asked.

“It’s the only song I recognized,” I answered. Grace started laughing, but immediately turned around to start singing the song. Her voice is soft; completely different from her actual speaking voice. It was sweet and gentle; traits of Grace that I wished she was more comfortable in showing to the world.

Grace is wearing a “Birthday Girl” sash and crown on her head, singing the lyrics and dancing around the small karaoke room.

“Oh, thunder only happens when it’s raining!” Grace sang into the microphone. I clap along to the beat, with a huge smile on my face. Grace turns to me and grabs my arm to stand up and dance along with her.

“Players only love you when they’re playing!” we both sing into our microphones, completely off the original key. The lights circled around us all night.

“Thunder only happens when it’s raining,” Grace sways side-to-side as she sings, concentrating on the lyrics on the screen. I grab the other microphone from the table and stand up, grabbing Grace’s arm to make her dance. She looks at me, first confused at what I’m doing.

“Players only love you when they’re playing!” I sing, completely off-key, which makes Grace laugh.

“What are you–” I pointed towards the screen and cut her off.

“The lyrics!” I said, in which Grace faced forward and continued to singing the song. I watched her sing the song; I couldn’t stop staring at her like it’s something– the only thing– that’ll keep me going.

…

“That was really fun,” Grace said as she took a sip of her cola on the boardwalk bench. I smiled at her.

“Sorry we couldn’t find something to eat earlier,” I said, in which Grace shook her head.

“That’s what the boardwalk’s for; you can find anything open on the boardwalk,” Grace reassured. I don’t say anything back, I just watch Grace eat a slice of pizza with a can of cola. I don’t remember the last time I saw Grace eat as much as I have the last couple of times we’ve spent time together. It’s relieving, to say the least, that I don’t have to worry if Grace is starving herself and lying about it. I instantly become sad thinking about that time in our lives, and I guess Grace notices it as she turns around. I immediately throw a smile on my face.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Grace asked. Grace knew I couldn’t hide anything from her, yet alone lie to her. But I had to, just this time, because this is the most time I’ve spent with Grace since she left New York, and I don’t want to scare her away. Not again.

“How beautiful the water looks at night,” I pointed out towards the beach. The moon was reflecting on the water, making the dark water almost look like a deep, dark purple. Grace looks out towards the water, taking a moment to see it.

“It’s beautiful, but nice try,” Grace said as she turns her head back towards me. “Tell me what’s really on your mind.”

“Dreams,” I answered. “The song from the karaoke room. I remember the song from the last time we went to karaoke, back in New York.”

“Really?” Grace seemed genuinely shocked that I remembered. I was sort of shocked that she didn’t remember. I nodded my head to answer her. Grace laughed and took a sip of her cola once more.

“You are the only person I know that remembers the little things,” Grace stated. “I can’t even remember what I had for dinner last night.”

I laughed and looked at her while she looked out towards the ocean again. I only remember the little things because they are important to me, and sometimes it’s those things that keep me going.

The Teenage Monologues.

Double-Life Teenager: A Sophie Monologue.

liz

“Soojin-ah!”

I squeezed my eyes shut; shoot. I close the front door behind me and directly walk to the kitchen. I see my mother drying up dishes and putting them in the cabinets above her. She turned around to face me.

“Where were you?” my mom asked in Korean. My mother still speaks to me in Korean and calls me by my Korean name since she’s afraid that I would become too “Americanized” and forget my Korean; which I found contradicting considering we lived in the UK, an English-speaking region in Europe.

“I was with Milo,” I answered her. She sighed and turned back around to keep drying the dishes and put them away. “I was at his grandparent’s house in the treehouse.”

“Did his parents know where he was?” my mom asked. My mom knew that Milo rarely checked in with his parents whenever he would hang out with me. I didn’t believe my mother when she told me that, but I started to notice it when Milo and I would hang out.

“Yes, mom. I reminded him to tell his mom,” I answered, walking towards the fridge to grab a water bottle. My mother didn’t say anything after that, but if I knew her well, I know she had more to say.

…

“Soojin-ah,” my mom softly said as she was brushing my hair one night. We sat on my bedroom floor in our pajamas. I made a noise to my mom to let her know I was listening to her. “You start high school in a couple of weeks, and I need to have this conversation with you.”

I took in a deep breath, already knowing where this was going.

“Yes, mom?” I responded.

“I know you and Milo are friends,” she began. I wanted nothing more than to disappear from my room. Was I about to have this womanly talk with my mom on a warm summer night while she detangled my long hair? “It’s okay that you are friends with a boy, but in high school… things can be different…”

“Mom,” I had to stop her before she proceeded with this conversation. “I can reassure you that Milo and I are just friends.”

“That’s great, but… things can change,” my mom still continued with her conversation. “High school is when teens experience new and different things, like dating and–“

“Mom,” I had to stop her once again. “I am solely focused on my studies. Being one of the very few girls in band class, I have to work extra hard to prove myself. I’m not going to have time to do the things you are thinking of.”

“Soojin,” my mom stopped brushing my hair to look at me. “I see the way that boy looks at you. I don’t want him to sidetrack you on your studies.” I got up from the floor and walked to my vanity. I looked at myself in the mirror, and my mom quickly showed up behind me, looking at me through the mirror.

“Mom, I will be okay. We are just friends,” I continued to reassure her. She doesn’t say anything right away, but she looked like she was trying to form the right sentence before speaking it out loud.

“Let’s keep it that way for a while,” she simply said. She kissed the top of my head and walked out of my bedroom. When she left, I let out the breath I was holding in for the past 10 minutes.

…

“Your father called looking for you today,” my mom randomly said. I freeze in place, not really knowing what to do or say at that moment. “I told him you were at school and to try calling again during the weekend.” I looked at my mom, and I knew my mom was looking at me, waiting for a response.

“How is he doing?” I asked.

“You can ask him yourself when you speak to him this weekend,” my mom sternly stated. My mother hated the fact that I never speak to my father whenever he tries to call. The truth is that I don’t feel comfortable talking to him. I try to not hold resentment for choosing what he did over his family, but that’s just something I can’t understand; at least not now in life. “Really Soojin, he just wants to see how you’re doing.”

“You can’t tell him for me?” I complained. My mother looked annoyed at my question.

“He’s your father,” she said. “He wants to at least talk to his daughter. He sacrificed a lot for us to be where we are now.”

Yeah, he sacrificed so much that he got himself deported from America and can’t live with his family for the next 5 years.

“Are you listening to me, Soojin?” my mom said in a louder tone. I nodded my head, just wanting this conversation to be over.

…

milolani: We should totally rent a studio space for our first band assignment!

I cocked my eyebrow up and responded back to Milo’s text message.

leesophie: We don't have money to rent a studio though.
milolani: ...scout

My bedroom door opens and I quickly put my phone in my desk drawer where one of my scarves lives. The fabric on the scarf lessens the vibration of the phone whenever I get notifications, which are most likely text messages from Milo.

“You’re working on your homework?” my mom asked. I quickly nodded my head. She smiles back at me and closes my bedroom door. I quickly take out my phone to read the messages Milo sent me.

milolani: my mom owns a studio
milolani: we could use it to work on our assignment
milolani: so i guess i meant to say is
milolani: hey scout! we got a studio for our band assignment!
milolani: does Saturday work?

I smiled at my phone before returning his message.

leesophie: Saturday's perfect. See you in school tomorrow! ^.^
The "Something" Series: Season 2

Something Back in New York: A Scene.

liz

Jamie takes a sip of water from his water bottle as Grace flips through a book of songs. LED lights flicker around the dark room with only the light of the TV screen making things visible to them. Jamie picks up one of the microphones from the table and walks toward Grace.

Jamie: Did you pick a song yet?

Grace: I’m trying to pick a good one…

Jamie: *sighs* Grace, it’s not that hard to pick a song.

Grace: It is when you’re picking the song for another person!

Jamie laughs and rubs the nap of his neck; nervous.

Jamie: I feel like I’m auditioning or something.

Grace: You are; for me!

Jamie shakes his head and looks at the screen light up. He reads the song on the TV and his widen instantly widen.

Jamie: Grace, this is a song made for a woman to sing!

Grace: Just sing it!

The song starts to play and Jamie instantly starts to sing the song. Grace claps her hands along to the beat. Jamie tries his hardest to hit the high notes in the same octave as the original artist. He cracks here and there, which makes Grace laugh. Jamie doesn’t mind; he laughs with her.

…

Shawn: Did you pick a day yet?

Jamie closes the fridge and walks toward the island. He looks at Shawn.

Jamie: A day for what?

Shawn: A double date? Skylar wants to do something with the four of us.

Jamie tilts his head; unsure.

Jamie: It can’t be a double date if two of the people aren’t dating. Besides, you and Skylar should spend more time together; just you two.

Shawn rolls his eyes as Kevin walks into the kitchen. He looks distraught, which Jamie notices right away.

Jamie: You’re okay, Kevin?

He doesn’t answer right away.

Jamie: Kevin?

Kevin: Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.

Kevin grabs a water bottle from the fridge and walks out of the kitchen. Nothing is said between Jamie and Shawn.

Shawn: Come on, Jamie; you know you want to see Grace again.

Jamie doesn’t answer, he simply scrolls through his phone. His eyebrows scrunch together when he sees what’s on his phone. He shows his phone to Shawn.

Jamie: Did you see this?

Shawn looks at the screen, and then back at Jamie.

…

Grace wipes the sweat from her forehead with her arm; it’s particularly hot this afternoon. She stops what she’s doing to tie up her hair. The other dancers in the studio take a break during their practice. Grace sits in front of the mirror and looks at herself; little strands of curly hair stick out from her ponytail. Grace attempts to tie it up once again.

Morgan, the dance instructor, walks toward Grace.

Morgan: Hey, can I speak to you for a moment?

Grace looks at the instructor through the mirror and nods her head. The instructor walks away towards another room outside of the dance studio room. Grace sighs before she gets up from the floor.

Grace walks into the common room of the studio where her instructor is talking to one of the other choreographers. Once Morgan notices grace, she excuses herself to speak to Grace. They both walk into Morgan’s office.

Grace: Everything alright?

Morgan doesn’t say anything until she sits at her desk.

Morgan: How are you holding up? Everything’s okay?

Grace: *confused* Uhm, yeah; everything’s okay…

Morgan: That’s good!

Morgan shuffles through some of the papers on her desk until she finds the folder she was looking for. She takes it and then looks at Grace.

Morgan: So, you know the showcase is coming up, and typically a showcase here is more for our dancers potentially getting scouted for job opportunities.

Grace: I know.

Morgan: Are you looking forward to it?

Grace: *laughs* I’m simply here to dance, Morgan. With all due respect, there are other dancers in that studio who want it more than me–

Morgan: But none of them dance like you.

Grace doesn’t say anything. Morgan leans forward on her desk.

Morgan: I know this industry looks for younger dancers, but you are definitely the type of exception many people make in the business. You simply can’t dance the way you do just “to dance”.

Morgan flips through some papers and hands Grace a flyer.

Morgan: They are looking for dancers for their overseas competition. They are currently scouting dancers around the country to put together their US team. The competition is held in Ulsan, believe that’s in–

Grace: *shocked* South Korea?

Morgan: Yeah. Have you been there?

Grace shakes her head and shuts her eyes before speaking.

Grace: Why are you telling me this?

Morgan: Because I think you’d be the perfect fit for their team. Candice, the woman that scouts the team together… we studied in the same academy for years. We keep in touch and she had asked me if I had anyone in the academy that ticked off these tiny little boxes in what she was looking for in a dancer and, well, you came to mind. I don’t have to tell you this– I think a part of you already believes this– but, you’re no doubt one of the best dancers in the academy.

Grace takes in what Morgan is telling her. She doesn’t say anything back. Morgan sighs and looks at Grace.

Morgan: The audition is in New York, and–

Grace’s eyes widen and immediately shakes her head.

Grace: No. No! I-I can’t go to New York, I–

Morgan: Grace. If I didn’t think you could do this, I wouldn’t have brought it up.

Grace: Morgan, you’re asking me to go back to New York for some dumb audition that I might not even get? My life is here in California–

Morgan: Is it really?

Grace doesn’t say anything.

Morgan: I’ve known you for about six months now. I remember the day you walked through that front door with literally nothing but a tiny gym bag and some ballet shoes. You spend hours at the studio, even after practice is over and everyone has gone home for the night. I don’t know much about your personal life, but something tells me you came to Cali as an escape.

Grace gets annoyed by Morgan’s comment.

Grace: You’re right.

Grace gets up from the chair.

Grace: You don’t know me.

Grace begins to walk out of the office and heads for the door.

Morgan: Think about what I said, Grace.

The door closes behind Grace.

…

A cell phone rings on a coffee table. Someone is heard walking toward the table and picks up the phone from the table.

Jamie: Hello?

Grace: Hey, Jamie.

Jamie’s eyes widen and looks at the phone. He puts it back toward his ear.

Jamie: Hey, Grace. Everything alright?

Grace: Yeah, everything’s great! Uhm…

Jamie doesn’t say anything, but he senses something is wrong.

Jamie: I’ve been meaning to ask you when are you available for karaoke.

There is a moment of silence.

Grace: Oh! I was just about to ask you the same thing… Is tonight okay with you?

Jamie: Yeah. Tonight works.

Misc., The Teenage Monologues.

That’s High-School, Sweetheart: A Mollie Monologue.

liz

“Well, that’s fucking lame.”

I lay on my bed, talking to Ronnie on the phone. It sucks that I only get to see Ronnie in a couple of my classes, but even on the first day, we had so much to talk about.

“I know, right? Like I wish I was able to be in a class where there isn’t anyone from Beverly,” Ronnie said. Ronnie is like the girl version of my best friend. She’s really cool, and we got to meet when we were paired up for a project back in junior high school. She’s a band major at Waverly now, blowing the saxophone like she’s some Jazz musician. I’m forever making fun of the fact that she could probably serenade a boy with some smooth Jazz of his favorite rap song.

“Oh my God, seriously! Like Laurie is in my vocal class and I have no idea when or how she even passed the Waverly audition. Do you believe that bitch laughed at me during my introduction?” I vented out.

“Dude, she’s still caught up in the past. Like, let that bad energy go, sis,” Ronnie responded. I look towards my bedroom door, which opens slowly. I get annoyed when it does.

“I’m on the phone, Mom,” I quickly said before she could say anything to me. My mom smiled and looked down at my phone on the bed.

“Tell Veronica that you have to eat dinner and you can talk to her later,” my mom responded. I rolled my eyes explaining the situation.

“I’ll text you, Ronnie,” I said before hanging up the phone. I got out of bed and walked out of my bedroom in the attic. My mom followed me downstairs.

“Mom, why do you always have to ruin my conversations with Ronnie?” I complained.

“You know dinner is at the same time every single day, Mol,” my mom answered. “You just saw Ronnie at school a couple of hours ago; what is there to possibly talk about?”

“Everything, mom,” I honestly answered.

We both sit in the kitchen where my step-dad, Alex, is serving food on dinner plates.

“I hope my favorite girls are hungry,” Alex said while putting a plate of food in front of me. I look at it. It has a strange smell to it.

“What the hell is it?” I asked while looking at the bubbling plate.

“Chicken cacciatore,” he answered.

“Chicken catch-a-who?” I looked up and looked at Alex. My mom and Alex met each other when my mom was in culinary classes for her catering business. They got married not long after that and have been together ever since. Alex was cool, chill; not demanding like how most step-parents are in those old TV movies. He’s always cooking something either really delicious or really questioning.

“It’s chicken in red sauce,” my mom explained. “You love chicken.”

“Yeah, when it’s either fried or covered in barbecue sauce,” I said, eating around the chicken. My mom looked annoyed at me, but I can’t help it; I’m a picky eater. Alex sat down next to my mom as we all began to eat dinner.

“So, how was your first day of high school?” my mom asked.

“It was cool, nothing special,” I said before I remembered what happened in vocal. “Our vocal teacher is Milo’s dad. Milo was trying to run for his life in that class,” I explained.

“Well, Milo knew that his dad was going to be the teacher for that class,” my mom responded. “I hope no one gives him a hard time in that class.”

“Milo just needs to stick up for himself, not let anyone give him any shit–“

“Language, Mollie.” my mom corrected me. I hated when she did that. Like I’m about to be 15 in a couple of months, yet my mom treats me like I’m 5.

“But yeah,” I continued. “Laurie Warren is also in my vocal class and she laughed at me after my introduction. I was ready to slap her so hard–“

“Mollie,” my mom interrupted. “You can’t be fighting in high school, especially not at a place like Waverly. You’ll get kicked out and expelled.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Just let a bully keep bullying me?” I asked, annoyed that my mother would even give me this talk after telling her what happened.

“You tell a teacher and they would handle it,” Alex chimed in. I looked at him like he had about 500 heads. What does he think this is? The old high school days?

“I do that, and the whole school laughs at me! Seriously is that what you want me to do?

“That’s high school, sweetheart,” my mom said, passing me the salad bowl. “You’re going to have to learn to handle situations in a mature, young lady-like manner.”

“Fuck that noise,” I said. My mother looked at me, angry at my response. “I’m sorry,” I sighed. I got up from my seat and left the dinner table.

“Mollie, you barely touched your dinner,” my mom called out. I didn’t even turn around to answer her.

“I’m not hungry,” I said while walking back upstairs to my room.

…

I slam my door shut and sit at my desk. I was so annoyed and angry that no matter what I shared, my mom always had to make it this big thing where I felt like I was always being scolded for something I said. That’s high school, sweetheart. No, it’s not! It’s the time of your life when you identify yourself as a person, and it can either make you or break you. I’m not going to let someone like Laurie Warren break me and my identity in high school. I will be remembered as one of the toughest and coolest kids in Waverly! I’m going to be the popular kid with the hot talented boyfriend and no one is going to bully me or tease me or laugh at me ever again!

…

“So, what’s the one thing you want to accomplish in high school that you didn’t in middle school?” I asked Milo. We sat on his front steps, eating ice cream cones on this hot, summer day.

“Passing my classes,” Milo began. I couldn’t help but laugh at his answer. “What?”

“Milo, I mean… don’t you want to do anything fun while you’re in high school? Go to a pep rally, perform somewhere awesome and famous, be popular or something?!” I asked.

“Popularity is a social construct,” Milo answered. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“Only losers would answer a popularity question like that,” I stated, which made Milo suck his teeth.

“Whatever,” Milo replied. “I just want to go through the next four years without no major drama or bad memories. Beverly gave me enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Drama will always be around you,” I said. It’s true; even if he tries to stay out of the drama, he’s friends with the drama. I tolerate his new friend, Sophie, but I don’t trust her motives. Who’s to say she’s not secretly going back to Laurie and laughing about all the weird things he did or said to her? “Plus, Beverly’s drama is past us. That was immature drama. Waverly isn’t a place where drama like that would happen.”

“You say that now, but watch something happen where you feel the need to be the biggest and toughest girl in our grade,” Milo admitted to me. “You always have to prove yourself at a new school.”

“So what?” I responded back quickly. “No one is going to fuck with me in Waverly. I’m not scared of anyone that’s more popular, older; whatever than me! I’m going to make Waverly the years where everyone knows the name, Mollie Castro!”

“Okay, Mol,” Milo dismissed the conversation. I was annoyed he still didn’t have faith in me and didn’t support my goals. He’s too caught up being around Sophie Lee’s finger.

…

I look outside my window, annoyed at this day as a whole, and want nothing more than to sleep and start a new day. I look at the calendar on my desk and realized I have therapy tomorrow after school. I rolled my eyes, so tired of doing the same things that middle school Mollie was doing. I just want to become a whole new me. And I will because high school isn’t just high school! It’s where I’ll finally shine.

And like I said before: Fuck. That. Noise.