1 Chapter 1: Happy Days

It's November 15, 2018. The eve of our school's annual homecoming reunion where all the batches from past years (they must be alive and well to be there, of course) are invited. Batch 1993 are the hosts this year and we, batch 1994, are hosting the event next year. Do I want to go? Hell yeah. Do I want to be there?

When I look back with my life, I just can't imagine why I'm kinda stuck in this situation. I'm turning 41 this year and I don't have a job, no bank account, no savings, no car, no investments, heck i dont even have money on my wallet. I'm broke, I'm fat, I'm a loser... But, I also keep asking myself, am I happy? It's almost 2pm and I'm still hesitating to go. What will I say to them? What would they say to me when if I told them what happened to me?

"Son!", with my mom's voice echoing through our small apartment, growing even louder as the minute goes by. Its 5:30 am. "5 minutes," I say to myself. "Rob, it's already 6am! get your ass off the bed right now!" She extensively repeats calling me out of the bed while making me and my sister breakfast. Oh, my mom is the best. She's so sweet, loving, caring. She's the best cook ever, she never swears, and she's very persistent and a very hardworking person. I missed her so much. It was 1990, and I'm about to graduate from grade school.

During those times, what I really wanted as a graduation gift is a brand new Family Computer (its a Japanese Nintendo game console) which I can play Super Mario Bros, Tetris, Super Contra, etc. I just love playing video games. I was living with my dad and grandmom from the 1st grade to the 5th grade and I never had that privilage of owning nintendo for myself. I just watched and played that with my friends and if I get lucky, I borrowed that console from my friend Don for a few days. He is such a nice friend.

My parents separated when I was just 5 yrs old, although I can remember some snippets from that time, I basically don't remember anything. I just remembered me and my sister were living with my Dad and during weekends, my Mom will visit us. My Grandmom forced me to learn the piano at age 6 and I really hated it. Sunday mornings are my piano lessons and my favorite TV show, Voltes V (Japanese Anime) is happening at the same time. Who doesn't love spaceships and cars merging together to form one giant robot, that has a laser sword? Anyway, I learned to play the Piano and they say I'm good at it. That's what they say, my relatives, of course.

I have 4 uncles, my Dad's brothers, and they all sing in our local choir. I have a favorite, his name is Manuel, and he sings very well, plays the piano and the guitar, and he is just about 15yrs older than me. He's so talented and awesome. I idolized him. I hate playing the piano but everytime there were choir rehersals on our house and hears him sing and play at the same time, I fell in love with music. I wished I could be as talented as him. I just kept practicing, about an hour everyday, but my grandmom will often say, "you will not leave this house and play with your friends unless you finished playing all these piano pieces", which sucks by the way. She yells at me if I stopped for a 5 minute break. I missed granny. She's just so sweet and caring eventhough she does not show much of her emotions.

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