I Let My Heart Go

My life had never been of too much importance to those who happened to be in it. I had been in foster home after foster home and nobody really seemed to realize that I was an actual person. Instead, they just tossed me aside with the same excuse that I was just a bad kid. From what I can remember, I had never done anything that involved authorities. How on Earth had I been labeled as a bad kid? Was it just because I was in foster care that I could be tossed into a can like trash? As an adult, I learned that things were a lot more colorful than I had seen them growing up. Everything used to be so black and white to me and I never really opened my eyes to realize that there were beautiful things and people in the world. However, nobody really gave me a chance to do that.

Looking down at the degree that was in my hand, I couldn’t help but think about my life and what had led up to that point. I had graduated from Juilliard with a Master’s Degree for Music Composition and I minored in Percussion. I continued to question whether I deserved the degree because every single family I had been in had told me that I was going to end up in the work force right out of high school and I wasn’t going anywhere in my life. Honestly, I didn’t even want to rub it in any of their faces that I had received the degree. I was just surprised that I had actually done it. The year I had applied to the school they had a 5% acceptance rate, not only that, but I had received a free ride to the school.

No matter where I went, I had music to rely on. That was one of the only reasons why God was still in good standing with me. He never failed me in that department. Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford a real instrument, or lessons for that matter. I ended up becoming a percussionist, and according to my middle school band teacher, I was a damn good one. The reason why I ended up applying to Juilliard was because my band teacher in high school called me into his office one day and set down some papers for me. It turned out that he had ended up making a video collage of all my work throughout my high school career and sent it to Juilliard, along with the application fee. The man was very supportive of my music and had been involved in my high school career regardless of whether I was attending his school or not.

“Blaine!” I heard someone yell and at first I didn’t want to respond, but of course, the person who was calling my name really wanted my attention and started shaking me out of my trance. I looked up at the culprit and found that it was a small girl named Juliana. She was a dancer at Juilliard and was working toward her Bachelor’s Degree. Unfortunately, it had been taking her longer than she had been expecting it to. Generally, it was just a four-year program, but she didn’t do well in her studies apparently.

“Hey, Juliana,” I said in a small voice, still trying to process the fact that I had graduated from college already. It was hard when I thought about my past and tried making connections from that to the present. It didn’t usually add up. Deciding I didn’t want to delve into it any further, I closed the degree up and paid attention to the girl.

“So, how are you celebrating?” she asked with the brightest smile you could ever imagine. It was almost like the girl was made out of smiles and giggles because she was always offering them. I slightly smiled at her because I didn’t really know how to answer her question. I didn’t have any means of celebrating. I had to work that night and I didn’t necessarily have a place to have people over, or people to celebrate with for that matter. “Don’t tell me you’re not planning to celebrate! You just got your Master’s in Composition on your first try here!”

I had to laugh. That was probably the whole reason why my mind was so boggled about it: it was my first try. A lot of people have ended up quitting or having to start over again because they just weren’t cutting it. For some reason, none of the stress seemed to faze me too much and it was all just a breeze for me. I ended up graduating with honors, even. That should be reason enough to celebrate, but my previous reasons for not celebrating were brought back to the forefront of my mind and I decided to just leave it be.

“Maybe some other time, Juliana,” I said as I stood up and started heading toward the bus stop that wasn’t too far away from the school.

“I’ll text you!” she yelled after me and I waved back at her as I continued walking. It had been so frustrating that I didn’t have a cell phone or any means of being contacted other than calling my work phone for other people. Finally, I caved in and spent some of my savings on a cell phone and my paycheck from Joe’s Shanghai Restaurant was always billed at the end of the month.

I had one full-time job and two part-time jobs to support my lifestyle. I had been living in the Meredith Wilson Residence Hall the past six years and I was in the process of getting a place of my own. New York was a very expensive place to live, however, so it was more than likely going to be a studio apartment. My jobs only paid minimum wage and due to the fact that I was a “liability” they had to deduct quite a bit from the paychecks.

Why was it so easy for me to pack up my belongings? I only had one duffel bag, a backpack, and a drum bag. I didn’t need to use brutal force to get anything into the bags either. Honestly, I was a little disappointed with that fact, but then I started thinking about it and was glad. The only form of transportation I had was my bike and the public transit system. Looking at the clock in the dorm room, I decided it was time to head out to work. The good news was that the Hudson Hotel wasn’t that far away from the school, so I generally just rode my bike there. This time, I had to take all of my belongings. The good news was that I was allowed to bring my bike into the workers’ locker room and actually lock my things up. You could never be too safe in New York.

My bike rides were very relaxing, regardless of how many sketchy things were going on around me. I didn’t necessarily feel invincible compared to the other people around me, but I had learned that so long as you didn’t pay them any mind, they usually just left you alone. Also, I always went at a fast pace so I didn’t understand how the bike rides were relaxing at all. I was always weaving in and out of traffic and not paying too much mind to the drivers. Honestly, I was surprised that I was still alive.

When I got to the hotel, I noticed that there was quite a commotion going on the outside of the building near the front entrance. I wasn’t aware of any celebrities having booked with us. Due to the fact that I was security, you would think that they’d let me know those details, and they generally did. It could be that they didn’t know and it was a last minute decision. Instead of going through the front doors as I usually did, I decided to bypass the chaos and go through the back door. Fans were scary and they wouldn’t let anyone interfere with them having a chance to see their favorite celebrities.

“Oh, thank God you’re here, Blaine,” I heard my manager’s voice say as I entered the workers’ locker room. I realized that he and I weren’t alone and saw a rather large boy, a scrawny young man, and a very beautiful young woman. I felt a little awkward, feeling as though I were missing something, but decided that I would just go ahead and put my monkey suit on.

“You know that I’m actually a bit early today, right?” I asked him to make sure that he didn’t give me any crap about being late. He tended to do that when we started getting busier and needed more security on the premises. Having put my monkey suit and security belt on, I proceeded to place my bags into my locker.

“Yes, yes. I do realize that. This was actually a last minute decision done by these three,” he said, having proven my theory that he didn’t know celebrities were coming to the hotel. But that meant that I was actually in the presence of celebrities, and after I had finished putting my bags away and started locking up my bike on the bench, I tried getting a good look at them. Unfortunately, I didn’t know the three people standing in front of me. More celebrities were coming in and out of the scene and I just couldn’t keep up, I suppose.

“Okay, well, what do you need me to do here, sir?” I asked having added the “sir” because my monkey suit was on (yes, I am referring to my uniform). I didn’t understand why he was waiting for me to get there. I wasn’t the only security person on the premises and was not the best either.

However, I was wrong about being the only one. “You’re the only one working security tonight because I didn’t realize we were having famous guests tonight. Basically, I want you to be extremely alert tonight and I want you to keep your sights on them and only them.”

“Sir, you realize that my job is to protect all of the guests, right?” I don’t know why, but sometimes my boss really got to me. He was quite a scrawny man and I really could just beat the crap out of him if I wanted to. Unfortunately, he was an extreme kiss-ass to the celebrity guests we had at the hotel and I almost wondered if they were pleased with it or if they disliked it as well. I’m sure you hear all the time, “They’re just people. Why should they get special treatment?” That was actually my philosophy on the matter.

“I will be paying twice as much an hour this weekend if you will just do as I have said.” However, these guests must have been extremely important because that was the first time he had asked any of the security guards to be personal body guards. This wasn’t necessarily the best place for celebs to stay just because some of our guests did things throughout the hotel that they probably shouldn’t, but it is a pretty interesting hotel. I can’t blame them for being curious about it.

Sighing, I nodded my head and let out a little, “Roger,” as he proceeded to tell me where they were staying within the hotel and what my obligations were to them. I was honestly a little pissed off that the man had yet to notice that I had just put all of my belongings into a locker and he was already getting on my ass for an “important” job. I’m sure they weren’t as famous as he was making them out to be.

“Anyway, Mr. Pattinson, Mr. Lautner, and Miss Stewart, your guard for this weekend will be Miss Blaine Treston,” my boss introduced us and instead of shaking all of the hands I just bowed my head a small bit to show that I was pleased to meet them.

“Are you positive that this girl has the capability to protect us?” the young woman asked my boss and I honestly wasn’t offended. It was a legitimate question when you were placing your trust in someone else’s hands, especially when it involved your well-being.

“Trust me when I say that she has gotten quite a few celebs out of some sticky situations, even when she wasn’t on the clock, or even in the building,” the man vouched for me. Yes, those were true statements, but I usually didn’t realize that I was helping a celebrity until I had finished helping them. I guess life generally worked like that, huh?

“That’s good news,” the scrawny man said as he chuckled. He had a rather smooth British accent and caused me to question why he was so famous here. The other two were obviously American but I didn’t realize he was of another nationality.

“Alright, we’ve been introduced. Now let’s see if we can’t get you to your room safely,” I said in my most professional voice. Of course, I was being sarcastic because I didn’t understand what the commotion was being created for. People were going mad and suddenly that meant that my life had to change. Having to be extra alert on my security job made me much more paranoid than I already was, and trust me, I have suffered from paranoia for a long time. I was just starting to get over it now that I’ve graduated from Juilliard.

Instead of just walking out of the locker room into the lobby, I checked it out first and it seemed to be rather calm, as it should have been to begin with. It was 10:30 at night. I didn’t understand who would be checking in or out of a hotel at that time. Yes, New York was the city that never slept, however, there were still rules that applied to everyone. Well, not celebrities, I suppose.

Due to the fact that the coast was clear, I motioned for them to exit the locker room. I tended to have people walk in front of me instead of behind me when I was protecting them. That way I could actually watch them. We walked up to the elevator and I had them enter first and then I went in and pressed the button to their floor. You were generally safe in the elevators so long as none of the potheads staying in the hotel were hotboxing them (trust me, it didn’t happen often, but it did happen).

“So, Blaine,” Mr. Lautner started to say as we were waiting for the elevator to get up. I was keeping my finger on the floor button so that it didn’t stop on any of the other floors, “do you do anything other than security?”

“I work at an Asian restaurant and a clothing store,” I said matter-of-factly. I don’t know why, but when I got into security mode, it was almost like I had a stick up my ass. Then again, I didn’t really prefer talking to begin with.

“Very cultured in your working experience, huh?” the scrawny man asked. I nodded my head very stiffly. Why were these elevators so slow? Why were they playing the crappiest music they could think of? Sometimes the front desk clerks changed the music in the elevators just because they knew I was going in it. We gave each other one hell of time. It was all in good fun, though. They were great drinking buddies of mine.

“Do you do anything other than work?” Miss Stewart asked, seeming to actually be interested in the matter.

“I just graduated from college today, so not anymore,” I said, relieved to see that the doors of the elevator were opening to an empty hallway and that it didn’t smell like pot. I gestured for them to get out and looked around to recall where they were supposed to go. “This way.” I pointed in the direction I wanted them to go and made sure they started walking before I did.

“Congratulations on graduating!” Mr. Lautner said excitedly. “Where did you go?”

“Juilliard,” I said as though it were nothing. Once again, it really wasn’t anything to me because it passed by so quickly, meaning it was actually a lot easier for me than it usually was for others. We were at their door and I took out my universal hotel key to open the door and escort them in. “If I am not right out here, then you can page me using this,” I said, handing a walkie-talkie over to Miss Stewart. “I highly doubt I’ll be elsewhere, though. Make yourselves comfortable.” With that, I left them to their own business and started to pace the large hallway that looked like it was from a retro 80’s movie or something.

As soon as I got to the end of the hall, I received a page from the scrawny British man. “Did you just say you graduated from Juilliard? Over.” I froze because the walkie-talkies were publicly used throughout the hotel. Every worker had one of them and there was zero privacy with what was said over them. He must have figured that out because he was standing outside of the room with a crooked smile on his face and the walkie-talkie in his hand. Sighing, I walked back over to him and fought the urge to take the damn thing away from him. You can never trust people nowadays.

“Yes. I graduated from Juilliard,” I restated for him. He looked me over and nodded his head with a look of amazement on his face.

“What did you major in?” he asked as though we were on the same level. I was looking at him in amazement as well and was wondering why on Earth the man was interested in the subject. I’m sure he had received zero education in whatever it was that he was doing for a living and yet he was famous for it.

“Music Composition,” I replied with a sigh. It was making me a little nervous that he was insisting on standing out in the hallway with me when he was much safer on the inside of his room. “Sir, I would really appreciate it if you would go in your room and stay there.”

“Well, I would really appreciate it if you would come into the room so we could get to know you a little better,” he said matter-of-factly and I almost wanted to slap him. So he was a bratty celebrity. Either that, or he wanted to know his security guard a little better. Sighing, I decided not to argue with the man and followed him into the hotel room. The rooms were rather cozy, but different from regular hotel rooms. Although they were a little uncomfortable for me to be in, I wouldn’t mind staying in one of the rooms.

I did not go past two feet away from the door and stood at ease in front of it. The good news was that their belongings had all found their way up to the room already. Our trolley boys were actually pretty good at their jobs; they just seemed like lazy sacks of shit when we ordered them around. I found them to be rather entertaining but they weren’t old enough to be drinking buddies. Instead, they were smoking buddies.

“Music composition, huh?” the man restated and I nodded my head stiffly. “What were you intending to do with that degree?” That was the first time someone had asked me that question, and to be quite honest, I had no idea what the answer was. What was it that I had been intending to do with my Music Composition degree? I was concentrating more on the minor than I was the major that it completely went over my head.

I realized that I had been taking a while to answer the question. “Well, I found the program to be interesting and I can’t play real instruments, so I just minored in percussion and majored in Music Composition instead.” I was saying this to myself more than I was to anyone else. I didn’t really know what you could possibly be as a Music Composition major. I liked writing music, and throughout the process of getting my degree, I had started learning how to play piano. With that, I started writing music and learning what worked and what didn’t work. I guess I was just thinking of being a composer in general.

“So, why do you have three different jobs when you obviously have the money to attend Juilliard without any idea of what you were getting the degree for?” he asked, and once again I felt like slapping the man. I think he was starting to think that I was the brat.

“With all due respect, I don’t feel the need to explain myself to you, sir,” I said as politely as I possibly could. The man was starting to make me feel uncomfortable and I wanted out of the situation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a couple of things I need to do. Please use the walkie-talkie for emergencies only.”

The man gave me a crooked smile, but obliged to my request of being excused. As I headed to the nearest public restroom, I hadn’t understood why I had the urge to cry and punch something all at the same time. That man had done the impossible that night: make me feel like crap.