I'm Not Bulletproof

Dear Journal;

I have been in Espoo for two days and I hate it. Eveliina actually talked to me, but she is scared. I have to be strong for her though. I cannot show my weakness. As for the Laiho’s, they’re nice, I guess. But Alexi seems a little…strange. He has insulted me numerous times today, and I am thinking he is generally a rude person. But whatever, I’m not going to let him get to me. His mother seems sweet though. But I have to start eating some more, or else someone is going to notice something. I haven’t seen much of the father and Anna seems cool.

Alexi gave me a ‘tour’ of his neighborhood. Which was only a ten minute walk and he didn’t say a word to me. He just looked down and occasionally played with one of his many bracelets. I don’t know what his problem is. It pisses me off, actually. I can only imagine what life is going to be like here if he continues to act this way towards me. Living in the same house, sleeping in the same room and going to the same school sounds bad enough as it is, but imagine living like this with someone that doesn’t like you.

I actually though he was good looking! I cannot believe it! Ever since ‘you know who’ did ‘you know what.’

“Hey Anna?” I call out.

“Yes?”

“Is there any where that has an open mic night?” I ask.

“I’m not sure, you should ask Alexi, he knows all about those kinds of things,”

There is no way that I am going to ask him. He’ll probably find some way to insult me.

I continue to write in my journal. I write about my feelings, what is going on in my head, and more about Alexi. I cannot even begin to explain why he is on my mind so much.

Back in Estonia, I had a lot more people bother me. I was in arguments daily, and fist fights once in a while.

Being insulted is nothing new to me.

But why is this different? I mean I am used to living with people who don’t like me. Just look at my family. I might be a little drama queen. But I am only sixteen, that is normal for girls my age.

“Triinu,” Alexi interrupts my flow of thoughts.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” he asks. Why is he taking an interest in what I do?

“Writing. Why?”

“I’m going into down town for a little bit, gonna look at some clubs that my band can play at,”

“You’re in a band?” I ask excitedly.

“Yeah, for about three years or so, we’re called Children of Bodom, I play guitar and sing,” he explains.

“I sing too, and play the guitar, but I’m not any good at it. I just know the basics and chords,”

“Do you scream?”

“What?” I ask.

“Scream, you know scream instead of sing,”

“No?” I’ve only heard one band that screamed instead of sing, but he doesn’t need to know that. This is our first conversation that is in a normal tone and not yelling. I don’t want to ruin it by saying I’ve never heard anyone do that in a band more than once.

“Oh, well, I do,” he says.

“That’s cool,” I say, “is there any open mic’s here or something?”

“That’s why I’m going to look,” he states, “you should come with me, keep me company,”

I nod in agreement. Hopefully two things happen; I find a place to sing, and Alexi and I don’t argue.

“How long have you been playing guitar?” Alexi asks after a few minutes.

“Hmm,” I pause, “about two years. What about you?”

“Since I was eleven,” he says. My eyes grew wide in surprise. He can only be sixteen, seventeen in age.

“You must be good,”

He smiles in response, I blush slightly. His smile kind of cute. Wait, why am I thinking this?

All of the open mic’s in downtown were at bars, which both of us cannot play at.

This sucks.

All of the signs read ‘eighteen and over,’ even to play there.

I sigh in disappointment.

“Triinu, you can play at some coffee shops, depending on what you sing, but I can’t,” he says. Alexi has a point. The way I sing is normal, and screaming.

“What kind of music do you play?”

“Alternative pop,” I say. I don’t even know how to label my own music. It’s not like I’ve grown up listening to music. My family had two records in the house. He is probably going to laugh at me. He seems very closed minded when it comes to music.

“Yeah, they’d want you at coffee shops,” he states, “I’d like to hear you sing sometime. I bet you sound nice,”

His sudden act of kindness surprised me. Whenever we are at home, he seems distant and rather rude. But he said that I’m possibly a good singer. How sweet.

I guess he’s off my shit- - for now.

“Let’s find some flyers,”

Alexi and I walk to multiple coffee shops in the area to pick up some information about open mic’s. So far we haven’t had much luck. People have already signed up for it, I was too late. I guess I’m not the only one who wants a career in music. I guess it’s kind of cool that Alexi plays music too, even if it two completely different genres.

“Alexi! Look!” I exclaim. There is a coffee shop across the street that has a sign on the door that reads ‘open mic October 23.’

Before I know it, I run across the street.

“Hey what the f--“I say as I fall to the ground, but the thing is, I didn’t trip, I was pushed. I then hear a car horn blare. That guy almost hit me! But why was I pushed?

I look over to my left and see Alexi on the ground next to me.

“Pay fucking attention!” He laughs. I don’t find it very funny.

“I’m sorry…” I say embarrassed.

“Go sign up, open mic is tomorrow night.”

Dear Journal,

-closing thoughts-

Such a strange day. Alexi finally helped me! He took me around town to look for an open mic, and I found one! It’s tomorrow at seven pm. And he saved my life. I guess I never paid attention to my teachers when they would tell us to look both ways before crossing the street. But that’s my fault. Maybe he is warming up to me. I hope so; he seems like a nice guy. Well, tomorrow is a big day. I start school, and I have my first open mic. Well, second, if you count the time I sang on the street corner, but no one listened. Tell me something new…