Friday

We're following Lucille throughout her day. She's just tidying up her desk just as Nick walks in. His long black hair is on his shoulders, reaching medium length around his chest. She smiled looking at him, "Hey there, big guy. Nice to meet you."

He offered a tiny smile approaching her, "The pleasures yours." 

"Wow. Come fe fi fo fum your way here and help me pack up. We're gonna be late to band practice on our first day and I'm not bouta make a fool of myself."

He organized her papers, neatly putting them into her backpack. "I'm not your servant, y'know."

"Oh, you're not? Are you not the little white boy who just packed my stuff for me?"

"I'm not little, so calm yourself."

"But your IQ is, so YOU calm yourself."

They bickered all the way to the music room located on the second floor. Nick opened the door and immediately on cue Clay jumped 3 feet into the air.

"DUDE, STOP, MILLER STOP."

Lucille threw her backpack to the side which Nick silently frowned at. "What the hell is going on?"

"Miller has disgusting spoiled milk from lunch yesterday and he won't GET AWAY."

"Miller, why do you have milk from yesterday?"

"Well if you need to know, Nick, I put it in my backpack to save it for later but got busy so I forgot. I still have it now and I don't want it."

Clay let out a growl of sorts, "I don't want it either!"

"Yeah, you do though."

Nick watched Victor try to encourage Clay down from the desk he stood on, while also shushing away Miller who quickly got bored of picking on Clay.

Nick cleared his throat, "Where's Jim?"

"He's getting us sodas and water." 

Miller began taking out his materials, occasionally throwing Clay a mocking glance. He took out his guitar from the case and set it on a table, taking time to make sure it was in perfect condition. The others had followed, although they simply took the instruments out of their respective cases the school provided them with. 

"What should we do today? Work on a song?" Lucille asked, looking at everyone but most importantly the main singer of the group.

"Uh yeah. I mean I can have these sheets printed out so you guys can look over it. Get familiar with the beat and such, then we can try-"

The door opened obnoxiously loud. "Hey guys I got some soda pops and water."

Miller glared at Jim disapprovingly. 

"Oh, were you talking? My bad."

"Thank you so much, babe." Lucille said walking over, carefully taking her pick and opening the can.

"I was thinking we could practice playing our stuff some more, and learn our different styles." 

Miller sat down, shifting to look at Jim's direction with a frown. "Yes, we were just getting started."

"Oops."

Miller's eyebrows furrowed, frowning deeper and rolling his eyes. "You are so IRRITATING." He couldn't see Jim's face but he could tell he was grinning under that mask.

"Can y'all not right now? Jim, stop trying to rile him up. So what song are we playing today?"

Everyone waited for a response but Miller had bent over to pick up his water bottle from the floor and took a stupidly long sip.

"Uh, I dunno."

Lucile practically slid across the floor, swiftly sitting on Miller's desk. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Okay everyone, look at me," Lucille raised her voice, sitting up tall. "We've gotta come up with something soon. So who thinks we should work on a song?"

Jim shook his head up and down profusely, looking at everyone else while Clay seemed a little concerned.

"I just want to see what we're all working with." Jim said while looking into Clay's direction then at Nick's Waiting for his explanation. Nick shrugged, "Lucy wants to work on a song."

"I'm.. not sure. I dunno, you guys can. I don't wanna hold- Like. Are you sure?" He stumbled on his words, looking quickly between everyone. Everyone looked back at him waiting for him to clarify what he meant.

"Like you guys don't know how good I am at piano, right? What if I suck so hard?"

"That wouldn't be a problem." Miller said flatly, "If you can't keep up today then you can watch and take notes for the future."

Clay looked at Miller, not having expected that reply. Jim wasn't keeping up with the tone and dropped his backpack on a desk, papers and snacks falling out.

"Well hold on, Miller. First of all," Jim paused dramatically. "I got snacks."

A quiet collective "thanks" sounded from everyone in the room. 

"Second of all," while grabbing a clean loose leaf paper and a pencil, "We should have a schedule for this type of stuff. When we meet and what we're doing. So we can prepare in advance, right? Some days can be practice days and on others, we band together. Y'know, like a band."

Nick, who wore his classic blue-black stripe flannel, turned to look at Clay. "Why don't we just see what we're capable of together today?" The dull yellow walls turned a darker shade as Victor walked over to Clay and placed his hand on his back and began rubbing slowly, not before pausing as if asking for permission. The gesture was to make Clay comfortable with the conversation and settings, Victor recalls nights when his mom would rub his back until he fell asleep. Nowadays Temper does that, yet only for a little while. 

The room was under a tree which gave it a nice shade. The tables were all moved to the side of the room in an oval formation with music sheets on every desk. 

Clay clenched onto his sheet and watched as everyone started test-running their instruments before playing together. Clay and Victor watched Miller quietly string his guitar, adjusting the tune and playing around with the melody. Nick tried to not ruin Miller's thought process but began playing his banjo. Jim was making beats and remixes as he always does while Lucile flexed her hands and then played aggressively on the drums. She cracked her knuckles, hung her head low, and let everyone hear her. Between Miller's depressing guitar, Nick's angry banjo, and Lucile's passionate drums, the air was filled with emotional music. 

As if the human mind, the heart with its emotions and the body's movements through instrument playing were singing all at once. Clay shuddered at the thought of having to keep up, but Victor felt his tensity and squeezed his shoulders. He was embarrassed to be so insecure, with this last display of affection from Victor, Clay stood up from the desk he was sitting at and made his way to the classroom's piano. Gently running his fingers against the piano, He played one key then another, soon enough he was a part of the musical mess the classroom had become. 

It sounded terrible, the clashing noises. 

"Okay, enough," Miller yelled.

Quickly, the chaotic music died down. "Are we all good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Lucille said, smiling softly. 

Nick grinned, "My banjos are hot and ready."

"That's disgusting, but I'm all good here. How are you, Clay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay cool," Miller gave everyone a thumbs up. "By the way, Lucy, are you playing the drums today? What about your electric keyboard?"

"Left it at home, is that fine?" She pouted worrisomely. 

"Yeah, it's fine, just needed to know. Okay if we're all ready, I'll start."

With preparations concluded, Miller started singing. 

Victor watched the band for the remainder of the afternoon. Miller's voice was pleasantly accompanied by Nick's banjo and he himself felt his heart ache whenever Lucille joined with her drums. Although there were a lot of pauses and moments for whoever to adjust, the day was an overall success. 

Clay hardly played. He wasn't confident as he felt Miller burn daggers into him. He wasn't sure why Miller seemed so hostile with just him, but he kept his head down. Like he always does.

The sky was much darker than it was when they started and Miller had started coughing a few minutes before their time was over. Once they all were packed up and cleaned, Clay waited outside. He looked across the street and saw Miller alongside Victor and Jim walking together. Jim, the tallest of the three, looked past a parked car and waved to Victor goodbye. On the opposite side, were Lucile and Nick who spent a lot of time together and were too busy actively engaged in a conversation to turn back. He sighed and pulled his phone out and texted his mom. Thinking back to their band practice today, he was regretting how he acted and what he said and what he did. Just everything about it was unpleasant. He frowned and looked at the cracked cement he stood above. 

Then his mother's black car pulled up, unlocking the door. He opened the passenger door and threw his backpack in then sat inside himself closing the door behind him. 

"Hey Dia, how's mom?"

He lazily leans into the chairs as she turns on the engine again, "Good afternoon. Mom's at work. She cooked spaghetti though, you wanna eat before work?"

"No, I'll eat something during break."

Dia huffed, "I'll pack you some, okay?"

"Okay." Swiftly defeated.

He headed straight for his room, running from his responsibilities, passing by the family photos displayed on his walls. They collected dust and he could remember every second when he looked at them. It wasn't a bad memory, he frowned, but it wasn't a good one either. He only had 30 minutes to change and get ready for his part-time job. Now that he was free from the shackles of school, he could focus on his new job, he could focus on accomplishing his goal. With renewed strength, he tore through his clothes and put on the black apron. It had a cheap name tag, CLAY , and a pin Dia put on for good luck. It was a cartoon golden retriever she had bought him for his birthday.

Entering his workplace, he was greeted by his new boss Ms. Vega. They had met briefly but it was not her who handled his interview, but her assistant Mrs. Kain. She looked at him almost shyly, which he thought was ridiculous. He was a 16 year old boy and she was 26 years old. Actually, being 26 and a manager is really good, right? But relatively young, so maybe she was just not accustomed to greeting new workers.

He subconsciously made a note of how pretty she was. She wasn't conventionally pretty, but she had a cute upside-down smile and flat dark-brown hair that laid gracefully on her shoulders up to her chest. 

"Um, so thank you for applying. I hope you have a good first day." She didn't look into his eyes, or anybody's for that matter, but by the second, her face got redder. "If you have any questions, uhm just come to the office and ask me, okay..?"

"...Okay" 

He began unpacking the merchandise from a cardboard box, as he was told to. Prior to this, he was already shown around the entire building, the day he had his interview. The store was in relatively good condition, but it was less like a normal convenience store and more like a Spencers if Spencers sold groceries instead of jewelry and graphic shirts.

He could hear the venom in the voices of customers as they came in and out of the store. It would scare him normally. If he wasn't getting paid, he would walk out and never come back. He knew it was just his anxious thoughts speaking, he needed the job and the money.

All his life, he's worn cheap hearing aids, always breaking and losing them. They were cheap yet so expensive, and with the salary of just his single mother, he never had enough money growing up. He hopes to one day repay his mother for all she's spent on him, recalling the end of elementary school where she paid thousands of dollars due to bullying he endured. 

Checking back into reality, he was onto his second to last box. Gently picking up the cartoons of large eggs, the price tag said $4. Cheap. 

"I like your hair," Ms. Vega said, her glasses perched on her button nose, and she looked up for the first time with her indescribable eyes. "How's your first day so far?"

"It's okay. Kinda nervous but since I'm just organizing and unpacking, I don't really have to deal with people yet, haha." He smiled unamused but awkwardly, balancing himself on the redwood door frame. Always upon meeting someone new, he makes a fool of himself. Well, he hopes this time around Ms. Vega doesn't think anything of it.

She sat back against the upcycled chair, one with holes on the left arm and notably scratches on the left. Her smile was welcoming and luring, he felt odd about being alone with her. And then she spoke, the words leaving her thin lips, like poison escaping a needle. Her voice was quiet, "I don't like people either. Do you have Instagram?"

"Uh yeah, you wanna chat through there?" He felt awkward. "But don't you already have my personal number?"

She pouted, "I prefer Instagram. I hardly use messages, is that unprofessional of me?"

"Oh no, of course not! I mean we all have our own preferences."

"It's not like this is a big professional job right?" The gentle harmful smile returned on her face, this time with teeth to show. "It's just a grocery store."

He heard the weakest attempt at humor in her voice, and he held on to it, desperate. Forcing out a laugh, "Haha yeah, okay well here's my username. It's userrnamee"

"It's what?"

"It's userrnamee, with two r's and two e's at the end."

She paused for a moment, probably feeling dumb, Clay thought. "What?" 

"Two e's, Ms. Vega." The words practically jumped out his mouth and he felt ashamed for feeling, no, sounding impatient. He liked to think of himself as incredibly patient. 

"Can you just put it on my phone for me, please?"

The one thing he didn't want to do was spend any more time here. Could she dock his pay if he didn't comply? If she didn't like his stupid personality? With his doubts, he walked to where she was sitting. There were folders and trash littering the desk, with random post-it notes of drawings. He wondered if she drew them, he should tell her they were cute. She handed him her phone, it was a purple silicone phone case with a popular Sanrio character all over it. Much closer than he was before, he took a quick glance at her face. She was looking down at the floor, her almond skin complimented her dark hair. She had a piercing on her lip, and he could hardly see it beneath her hair, but she had divine earrings as well. She was completely dressed up, he thought, she was like a quiet goddess. 

Grabbing the phone from her hands, he typed in his username and quickly returned it. Now that he was done, he could make his way back to his post and work for his money. "Well that's it, I'm gonna go back to working now, alright?" 

Although his BTE hearing aids were a necessity, he did not always wear them. Being someone whose hearing didn't come naturally, it felt draining. He had to concentrate harder than everyone else just to make out the words being said, all day, every day in school. That being said, it is almost 7 PM and he has had it on ever since he stepped into school. Earlier he foolishly thought he could take them off during his break, but here he was wasting his time tip-toeing around his older boss. She knew of his disability, so perhaps she wasn't offended as he walked away. Clay bit his lips as he walked out, and she never said anything. Nothing he heard.

He hung his head low and walked out of the office, into the break room. 

The sound of the doorknob shutting resounded in the empty hallway.

The clock hit 9 PM, officially ending his first day at work. The moon damped the streets in darkness and it was too dark for someone his size to be alone. He stood outside the store, now closed and protected by the metal storefront gates. Clay yawned and stretched peacefully, free from his hearing aids for a brief moment. All of a sudden, his shoulder was punched by an unknown force. 

"What the-" Practically jumping 5 feet away, he settled down when he saw Ms.Vega standing right there with a black graphic hoodie "Oh my god-"

This was awkward. He took off his hearing aids for a break but now his boss was trying to talk to him. Should he tell her? Remorsefully he stared at her for a good 5 seconds, watching her mouth make noises that didn't reach him. Only the vibrations.

"I can't hear you. Sorry, give me a moment."

Reaching to the case that held his hearing aids, tediously putting them on. Then he stared at her expectedly, "What were you saying?"

"Oh, I was asking why you were standing out here alone."

He looked away, awkwardly smiling and uncomfortable. "Oh, I'm waiting for my sister to pick me up."

"You can't drive? Aren't you 17?"