“Well, aren’t you charming?”
It was a question he often got. He gave the old- ahem, sophisticated- lady a cool, dismissive wave and shook his head. “Who, me? Well, I’m flattered you think so.”
She gave him a laugh and touched his shoulder. Why were old people so damn touchy all the time?
“You remind me of my grandson.” Those words made him lose his composure, if only for a moment. The lady was too busy fondly recounting how accomplished her sweet Jimmy was. How he aspired to go into government as well, and she was oh so sure he would get there because he was in the top 20 of his class at whatever high school, blah blah blah, he’d stopped listening a long time ago. So many people loved to talk about their sister’s best friend’s uncle’s child that was just dying to get into politics. The truth was, so few of those shiny-eyed dreamers actually had even a grain of what it took to uphold a position such as this. Ah, how pride was blinding.
Regardless, he kept a smile on his face as the woman talked. When she finally stopped to take a breath, though, he interrupted her. “He sounds lovely. And I’m sure if he takes after his grandmother, he’s twice as nice.”
The woman laughed and blushed. “Oh, stop that.” It never meant to stop for real. These people couldn’t get enough of the sweet nothings he fed them. It was almost too easy.
“Now, who is it that you are here to speak with?”
“Well, I don’t have an appointment, but I was hoping to speak with-” she couldn’t even finish the sentence as he led her towards the door.
“I’m sorry hun, but you know I can’t allow you in without an appointment.”
She let out a small giggle, but he could hear the annoyance in her voice. “Of course. Well, you can’t blame a sweet old lady like me for trying.”
“You may call and schedule an appointment in advance, but due to the changes in government, we are quite busy. Good day.”
Before she could even say goodbye, he was already back at his desk, holding his head in his hands and thinking about the pure stupidity of these people that think they can just march into an office and speak to the most important people in the country… Almost as dumb as all the kids that think that being a politician someday is going to be easy. Because they’re sooo smart and they have such gooood ideas. It made him sick.
It was always the grandmas that thought they had the authority to interrupt the incredibly busy government workers with whatever pothole on their street needed filled because their hips hurt when their tires hit them or whatever other stupid shit they needed.
A familiar face crossed the boy’s mind, and he closed his eyes tightly to make her gentle eyes leave his memory. She would never do such a callous thing. Or, would have.
He sighed as he checked the time. Much to his delight, it was time for him to go home. He wasn’t sure he’d ever dropped the files and logged out of his computer faster. Truth be told, he hated his job. He kept the world running for such important people, and yet he never received recognition or credit for hours of painstaking work. Was the work hard? Not at all. It was mindlessly easy. But it was tedious. When he put something in the wrong place, he would certainly hear about it. That was the only time anyone cared about what he did.
He took a deep breath as he loaded his old, patched-up messenger bag with folders. This was his way into the political scene, but that didn’t mean he liked it at all. He made sure to get out of there before anyone else left their offices. He didn’t care to see the old men flirt with their young, busty personal assistants. As he waited for the bus home, he focused his mind completely on the etude. If he wanted to make Band Festival, he would have to work. The snare stuff wasn’t too bad: but his mallet work was shabby. He would have to try and stay after school on Thursday, if he could. That was the only day he could. Every other day was either debate club, soccer practice, or he was working hours for his internship at the Council building. He was a busy guy, but he didn’t mind. He liked to be a man of many talents after all. And he could do it all, so why not do it all? It kept him away from that place he hated so much after all.
When he arrived back at the orphanage, he walked straight to his room, keeping his head down to try and avoid any conversation.
He got to his room and set up his drum pad before opening his drawer to get out his sticks. Wait, where are they? Dammit.
He got up and charged across the hall to the place he knew they would be: in his little brother’s hands. The eleven-year-old was cheerfully drumming on his pillow, making sound effects with his mouth as his friends watched and egged him on. When he saw his older brother standing over them, the little boy slowly lowered his arms and his smile quickly disappeared.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Give me my sticks, brat.” They were quickly handed over. ‘“What gives? I thought I told you to stay out of my stuff.”
“We got a package, and I knew that if I didn’t take them, you’d just lock yourself up practicing!” The little boy was back to his cheerful self as he took the package from the top of his dresser. “I already opened mine. It was a new pair of dress shoes! I can’t wait to wear them.”
“Yeah yeah,” he grumbled, taking the wrapped object with a card taped to the top of it without another word and going back to his room.
He didn’t want to hear from his older brother at all. He got to have a happy ending, adopted away from this place and the wicked people that lived in it. Who wouldn’t want the promising oldest son of such influential politicians? Sure, go ahead and leave, leave Grandma under my care so you can live your dream in a happy family, he thought bitterly.
He threw the objects on the ground. Unlike his younger brother, he wasn’t going to be bought with presents. He had more important things to focus on. He took his sticks and flipped open his folder of music. It was all about building his resume, right? Plus, when he was thinking about drumming, he wasn’t thinking about his job or schoolwork. Nor was he thinking about his stupid brothers.
He worked through his passages, one at a time, keeping time methodically, like a metronome. The sound of the drum pad wasn’t nearly enough to drown out the sounds of yelling children and yelling adults scolding them.
“Lester is back!” the cheerful voice of his brother filled the room as he went with the others to greet him. Like I care that Lester is back. In one more year, he would be old enough to go to college like Lester did, and he would be out of here in a heartbeat, and just like his older brother, he would never come back.
“There you are.” The cheerful voice of his former roommate made the boy grumble.
Lester invited himself in and took a seat on his old bed. “How are you holding up?” He didn’t dignify Lester with a response. “How’s the internship?”
“It’s just great.” Can’t you tell I don’t want to be bothered?
“You don’t sound too enthused.”
“Unless you haven’t noticed, Lester, secretarying for those assholes isn’t my idea of a great time.”
Lester gave a laugh at that. “Yeah. Most of my internship is the same, but for Gamemaking assholes instead of government assholes.”
“What do you want, Lester?” he asked, huffing as he put his sticks down and turned to face his old roommate.
“Well, I came here to see you, so don’t make my visit be for nothing.”
That made him immediately suspicious. “Why me?” They weren’t really that close or anything.
“Well, I heard from a bird that there’s a new government… Task force… Being made for regulating the media. I put your name in the bowl, and they want to contact you.”
That made him drop his sticks, which clattered on the floor. “Me?” He hurried over to where Lester was holding out a small sheet of paper with a holo number written on it. He felt embarrassed for not even going out to tell his old roommate hello. “Thank you.”
Lester laughed a little bit. “Don’t thank me quite yet.” He stood up, gave him a wink, and walked out the door.
He quickly looked in the mirror, straightening his tie and making sure he had a professional background before he called the holo. What he saw when he called was… Not what he was expecting.
“Hello?” he asked, blinking at the two expectant faces looking back at him.
“You must be the one we’ve been hearing about! From Lester, right?” the girl said, her ponytails swishing as she bobbled her head. They were dressed... terribly. Who were these people?
“Yes, that’s me,” he said quickly, throwing in a professional smile.
“Told you he’d call Lizzie!” the boy said, grinning ear to ear.
“Um, I’m sorry, what exactly is this posit-” but before he could answer, the two of them linked arms and started skipping in circles around the room.
“We have a drummer! We have a drummer!” they chanted as they pranced around each other. “Drummer! Drummer! Drummer!”
He put his face in his hands.
What had Lester gotten him tied up in now?
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