Ezra
2 years before College
There was a deafening round of applause that followed after the Pianist Andrew Walsh ended his number on a crescendo. The energy from the crowd crackled even backstage. And I was next, why would the MC place me after such a legend. I know that this is not a competition, but it still does not make it easy for me. I keep thinking back to my last performance at my school recital which I bombed drastically. The audience are still clapping, now it just feels weird. I bet he is still on the stage standing and smiling, Mr. Walsh always came of as kind of arrogant and self-absorbed, with his blond almost white hair, I believe its bleached there is no way it is white all on its own.
'Ezra', someone calls, drawing me out of my musings. I look up and see everyone in the green room staring at me, and my Mom, who is also my pseudo-manager standing behind me. 'Are you ready?' she asked, her tone careful, almost pleading. I feel my hands tremble, 'no I'm not'. But I don't say so. She notices her eyes soften, lips pressing into a thin line, she stretches out her hand but hesitates. She wants to say something but holds back, her pity is unmistakable.
Her child who was once a prodigy has regressed and is failing. She gives me a half hug so as to not squeeze my clothes. 'Don't be intimidated my dear, remember that everyone out there is rooting for you' she reassures me, her voice catching on the last word.
I doubt that Mom, they are here not to support me but to see if it's true, has the world class star has truly fallen? I draw her closer, and give her a forehead kiss. 'Is Dad here?' I ask, whilst dreading the answer. She looks up and smiles 'He is here, with your older brother Evan, they made it here from the hospital despite their busy schedule, isn't that great' I stare at her face, so bright and joyful, and regret my words even before they spill out of my mouth 'Yeah, so amazing. Two boring old farts who know nothing about music, but are my greatest judges'
Mom gasps, 'Please baby not today, forget your Dad and Evan' Her fingers twitch at the hem of her dress, her eyes darting over my face, searching for the child prodigy she once believed in. 'Just enjoy the music like you used to do' Her hand caresses my face, as I lean into it 'Remember to breath' she whispers as my name is being called onstage and hair and makeup swoop in for some finishing touches.
The stage light is blinding as I climb the stage, truthfully I am grateful−it means I can't make out the faces in the crowd. 'Ladies and gentlemen Ezra Kim, violin prodigy, who has been playing since he was four years old, is giving a performance as a gift to the CEO of Belarose Metals for his birthday' The MC announces as I reach his side. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Kim'
The hall is silent, just as gooseflesh erupt across my arms. I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart. Tightening my grip on the neck of the violin, fingers trembling
Ba-thump
I exhale sharply and lift my bow, placing it against the string, I can feel the audience eyes on me as they wait.
Ba-thump
The opening notes to Tchaivovsky Violin Concerto breaks the silence, but the sound is wrong. My wrist feels tight on the shift and the note comes out choked. My heart beats faster.
There is a murmur in the crowd, people are shifting in their seats, and it feels like my heart could burst from my chest. I continue, carrying on like nothing happened. The next note is supposed to sing a rich effortless vibrato, but my bow arm stiffens and the note comes out as thin. Shaky. Wrong.
My breath is shaky and it's so hot. I force my bow forward but the note wavers, the sound breaks. I jerk the violin away from my chin, everything feels wrong, the whole crowd is talking, someone is calling my name, my chest feels so tight and I am so itchy.
I look down, then peek a glance at the crowd, my father is standing, and hands folded staring at me in disappointment. My vision tunnels−the violin, the bow, the stage lights. They are all blurring at the edges.
I can't breathe, my bow falls from my hand, there is pounding sound drowning the silence that ensues
'Breathe Ezra, breathe' I chant to myself, as I clench my sweaty palms trying to still my racing heart. 'I must do this' I whisper 'Please God, I need to do this' I pray as I bend to pick up my bow.
Someone shouts, then everything turns black.
Lio
8 months before College
The notes to the hymn 'Sinking Sand' began, the melodious voices of the Living Faith Ministries choir following, drawing me and everyone in the church into the lyrics of the song. I had always believed this too, that standing firmly in my faith will mean that I wouldn't fall. But that has not been the case because I have fallen.
'You should be there with them, you know' My Mother quips. I swallow knowing the lecture that will follow if I decide to respond. 'It just seems unfair, that in one month I lose everything, my son, my reputation and now even you' she complains
'Mommy I am still here right? Last I checked, I wasn't dead' I bite out, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. She shakes her head, turning away from me to stare at the pulpit, where our Pastor now stands. He had begun his sermon, but I was half listening. Sometimes, when she looks at me, I wonder if she'd rather be mourning two children instead of one.
I feel a sting in my arm, and turn to my right. My father is glaring at me. 'Are you even listening?' he whisper-yells, drawing the attention of my mum and neighbors. I look up and hear the preacher droning on about God's will, like I could care less.
All I know is that it is downright shitty, taking away my dreams and hopes and replacing them with torment and suffering.
'What amazing will our father in heaven has?' I think, fighting the urge to scoff
I tune out the rest of the service, silently following my family and the rest of the church as we file out after the church service. I can see the preacher ahead, he is all smiles greeting people as they leave church. And before you know it, we are in front of him.
He is hugging my mother, then my father, as he reaches for me I put out my hand for a handshake. Unfazed he shakes it and ask about my wellbeing, I give a noncommittal shrug as we are moved along in the crowd, heading home in silence.
My mother is the first to break the silence, as we make the drive back home. 'What was that in church?' she ask from her sit in front. 'Your mother is talking to you Liora' my father adds. They will have to be more specific, because I am tired of this guessing game. 'What was what, Daddy?'
'Don't be smart with us, young girl' my mother warns angrily. 'My love, look I get it' she continues her tone softening 'we are all mourning and I have let you mourn. You quit the choir, started dressing like a homeless child and gained a very nasty attitude' her voice rises again. 'But I am tired of this, your grief is not an excuse baby, grow up!'
Tears well up in my eyes at her words grow up, my brother was killed and everything was swept under the rug, 'Mummy how do I just stop grieving, it's only been two months, he was laid to rest last week Tuesday' I say sobbing now. 'Your son died Ma, but you and daddy are more concerned about your reputation than the fact that his murderer is out there' I scream.
'Oh shush, your brother's death was unfortunate, but he strayed away a long time ago, and his death is nothing but he's ending' My Dad berates me as we pull into our driveway. His words so callous, like he is talking about a stranger. I draw in a deep breath to calm myself down 'Wow, and you think you can call yourself parents, I can't wait to get out from under your roof, so I can leave your hypocritical, holier than thou bullshit' I spit with as much venom I could muster
'Language, you child' my mother screams as I step down from the vehicle and slam the door.
Teo
Three months to College
Today, I really wanted to sleep in, last night I worked till really late at the factory and my body is in so much pain. But I know that missing breakfast meant that I might have to go hungry till dinner, so I unwilling drag myself from bed and make my way downstairs.
'Hi T' calls Mabel the youngest kid in the home, 'You are lucky, Teo, the boys had rushed up the pancakes this morning and I was only able to save a few pieces for you' says Andre Callum, my foster dad for the past eight months since I left Juvie.
'Thanks man' I reply as I join him at the kitchen island. 'Yesterday was tough, from classes, I picked up a shift from Mr. Ozor at his new construction site, and then off to Belarose for my shift' I say as I wolf down my breakfast.
Andre doesn't reply, so I look up to see him staring at me worriedly. 'I worry for you T, all that work, plus school and your classes with Francois, burnout is real dear' he says. Yeah I know it's tough, but I refuse to miss my chance, I had already made one mistake in my life that set me back, it's not happening again–not if I have something to do with it.
I shrug trying to play it off as no big deal 'I gotta do what I gotta do' I respond smiling. 'When you are nobody who is determined to be somebody, some choices have to be made and this is my decision' he sighs and places his hands on mine. 'I, I just wish you wouldn't push yourself to this extreme' The whole house is silent the boys are out of the house already and little Mabel is in the playroom, I swallow as he continues on 'you know you can ask me for help anytime me and Ben love you dearly and are always willing, just….'
I jerk my hands from his and stand up, cutting him short—as I walk towards the front door 'Look, I appreciate, all you guys have done for me, taking me in and such but this is where I draw the line' He stands up as I grab my coat from the coat hook by the door.
Three months. That is all I have to save up enough for college. Then I'm out of this city−off to my new life. I just need to keep my head on my shoulder and remain focus, and I know it, the minute I start receiving handouts my focus will derail. I shrug my coat on and open the door, Andre right behind me apologizing 'I am sorry, I should never have brought it up' I nod stepping out and walking towards the street.
'Teo!' Andre calls out, and I turn 'Be safe outside, see you' he shouts waving, as I head towards the bus stop.
As I step into the Claude Antonio Music and Culture Conservatory, I am hit with a blast of heat warming me up against the frigid New England cold. My eyes scan the different groups huddled around the conservatory until I find Francois. He is leaning against the wall staring at me, I smile making towards him.
I met Francois when I was in Juvie, he had come in as a volunteer in the skills acquisition program they ran in Juvie. He would sing such beautiful original songs, which revived my love for music that I lost inside that awful place. Francois was the one who gave me a chance when everyone else shunned me, and I would forever be grateful to him.
He gives me a big hug immediately I reach him, squeezing me so tightly I feel my ribs crack. 'Dude, for a small dude you are freakishly strong' I say pulling away. He laughs 'You are just tiny' he says flapping my hand. I frown 'No I'm not' I say jerking my hand from his. Since I was in juvie and up till now, I have become much bigger and working blue collar jobs have definitely added to my muscular nature. He laughs and shoulder bumps me as we make our way towards his studio 'I am just joking, you really need to lighten up Teo' he says and I sigh.
'So what are we feeling today' Francois asks 'I want to focus on my chord progression and maybe composition' I say as we sit down inside the small studio. I love this place, it manages to smell of both the old and the new, a mix of old sheet music and percolator dripping coffee.
Francois shakes his head, 'What?' I ask 'You are in T, you passed your auditions, and you just need to focus on your school work so you can graduate' he says. I nod 'and I am I promise, I am studying hard'
'I just—I just want to focus on music during music time and school work when I am having my classes' I add. 'I just don't want to give them a reason to fault me when I get there, so music please' I say with a pleading tone. Francois smiles and nods, 'Okay, give me this chord progression' he asks placing a music sheet in front of me. I hesitate, then play shifting from a C major and letting it crescent and fall in the A minor.
Francois nods as he paces the small room, 'Better, but smooth out the rough edges, and give it control I want to see tension. Let it speak to me' he says, turns to me and smiles
I nod, I know what he wants so I let my fingers drift over the keys, picking up the progression from a G7 chord and just letting the note flow lighter, airier. Free of all the worries, guilt and shame, gradually building to anger and disappointment and finally to a resolution.
I exhale as the music comes to an end and Francois laughs, a short sharp laugh. He walks over to sit beside me smiling as he whispers 'Now that is music, you are going to blow their socks off. I just know it'