Kidnap My Affection
Beautiful Dirty Rich Music.
Stefan was amusing the crowd with his comical stories about his latest trip into some or other exotic part of the world; having heard this particular story before I decided against listening this time. It wasn’t exactly the funniest story in the world. Though, everyone still indulged him. He was almost as high up on the social ladder as myself. Me, of course, being at the very top. There was yet a beauty or a talent to match mine.
Laughter brought me from my thoughts. The crowd around us was slightly larger than before. Girls were hanging onto his every word. Stefan did have that kind of charm. He demanded attention and got it. Not that I wasn’t being admired as well. More girls were directing their gazes at me, some even all the way across the room. What can I say? I’m loved.
“Stefan, I’m heading to the bathroom. I’ll catch up with you in the music room later.” I pushed my tray away from me and stood up. Stefan only nodded in my direction before continuing with his story.
The moment my feet were outside the swing doors of the canteen I was engulfed in silence. The corridors were now empty, meaning I wouldn’t get hassled on my way to the bathroom. Sure I loved my drooling fans, but I wanted to get in some ‘me’ time. (Another way of saying I needed to stare at myself in the mirror.)
I walked into the boy’s restroom, and made a beeline for the mirrors adjacent to the urinals. I fiddled with my hair a bit and leant forward to inspect for any flaws. This entire routine was unnecessary, but it made me feel good to know that I looked my best. I had made it habit to make sure I was presentable at all times. Sometimes it became a burden but I knew how important it was. My mother had drilled it into me enough.
I sighed, stepping away from the mirror. Without taking my cautionary last glance I made my way out of the bathroom and back into the deserted hall. Unexpectedly though, music filled the hallway. No one here could play that well. An intricate cello piece that I am sure was made up. I had never heard it before.
My feet moved on their own accord and before I knew it, I was up against the door of one of the many music rooms at this school. The music seemed to escalate into an even deeper sadness.
My eyes landed on the person with their back faced to the door. Their hair unbrushed, their clothing…wooly, their hands emitting the sound from the stringed instrument.
I backed away when I realized who she was, though my body wanted me to move back towards the door and be drowned in her music.
The ugly, back talking new girl was responsible for my inner, yet physical conflict.
Laughter brought me from my thoughts. The crowd around us was slightly larger than before. Girls were hanging onto his every word. Stefan did have that kind of charm. He demanded attention and got it. Not that I wasn’t being admired as well. More girls were directing their gazes at me, some even all the way across the room. What can I say? I’m loved.
“Stefan, I’m heading to the bathroom. I’ll catch up with you in the music room later.” I pushed my tray away from me and stood up. Stefan only nodded in my direction before continuing with his story.
The moment my feet were outside the swing doors of the canteen I was engulfed in silence. The corridors were now empty, meaning I wouldn’t get hassled on my way to the bathroom. Sure I loved my drooling fans, but I wanted to get in some ‘me’ time. (Another way of saying I needed to stare at myself in the mirror.)
I walked into the boy’s restroom, and made a beeline for the mirrors adjacent to the urinals. I fiddled with my hair a bit and leant forward to inspect for any flaws. This entire routine was unnecessary, but it made me feel good to know that I looked my best. I had made it habit to make sure I was presentable at all times. Sometimes it became a burden but I knew how important it was. My mother had drilled it into me enough.
I sighed, stepping away from the mirror. Without taking my cautionary last glance I made my way out of the bathroom and back into the deserted hall. Unexpectedly though, music filled the hallway. No one here could play that well. An intricate cello piece that I am sure was made up. I had never heard it before.
My feet moved on their own accord and before I knew it, I was up against the door of one of the many music rooms at this school. The music seemed to escalate into an even deeper sadness.
My eyes landed on the person with their back faced to the door. Their hair unbrushed, their clothing…wooly, their hands emitting the sound from the stringed instrument.
I backed away when I realized who she was, though my body wanted me to move back towards the door and be drowned in her music.
The ugly, back talking new girl was responsible for my inner, yet physical conflict.