|01| Freshie's Friday

How would Havoc High be like if I was to suggest establishing an ad-hoc LGBT group?

While I was here sitting on top of a bar counter and my mouth sipping away a berry shake like a brand new vacuum cleaner, I played with that idea by scrimmaging through my mind, working on the logistics on how to realise it. I thought, hey, why couldn't the school get its own community to boost up high schoolers' connection with the LGBT rights organizations? And right after that, I coughed like a possessed idiot and my whole body convulsed as the result of a brain freeze. Then, I continued with that colossal sip like usual.

A blaring sound of a microphone coming from west of the bar shot through my ears, but I didn't flinch. The berry shake had me stoked and caused all my thoughts to spiral upwards with that very idea, this and that and what the hell I should look forward to as one of the new high schoolers, and also sharing the same school with my brother at that. That drink tasted so good, too good...what the hell did the bartender put in it?

Anyway, west of the bar, there stood a rock stage at chest's height. The black curtains were pulled towards either end-wall and the stage floor was carpeted. Already on the stage, a band's instruments were set with professional care, looking more than ready to be played by experienced limbs. You guessed it: a drum set, multiple different-sized Marshall amplifiers positioned at random, speakers and spotlights perched on the ceiling rail above the stage, two electric guitars, a bass guitar, a microphone set, and the two that zapped me to a state of pure bliss—the Yamaha Montage 8 synthesizer and the sleek red Pro-Ject Elemental turntable.

I had to have those someday.

And on top of that stage, there was the one responsible for that loud, alternating noise of fumbling, ringing, and static buzzing, gushing out of the speakers. He's my brother's best bud, Mikey (Mike). That frizzy haired dude was frantically trying to get the microphone to function properly. He sighed and almost inaudibly chuckled over the thing as he blinked nonstop. Funny as it was, the noise continued and in the meantime, tortured my ears with temporary tinnitus. Argh, shit! Still, I guffawed at his whimsical character.4

It's Freshie's Friday night, which was held in the most famous bar in Cacophony town, Uproar, after two weeks of school admission, celebrating for exactly what the party name suggested. Oh, and for newbies like myself. I assumed most of the freshies managed to attend this sorta once-in-a-lifetime(?) get-together, but of course the ones who're really taking the chance to blow up their leftover virginity and sobriety on the greatest time of the week were the seniors.

It's going to be a good high school life for me. I finally moved in with my brother in Furore Point after episodes of my begging and striking with our Pops to reunite with bro. Those three lonely years at home without Nate was totally over, thank God. I missed him so much. Pops rarely listened to my coming-of-age rants, but he was so moved with our brotherhood through Nate's sudden phone call that he decided to allow my leaving West Palm Beach. Right then, I'd swore to both Pops and Nate to behave and not to cause my bro to have unnecessary stress with my naivety.

Oh and...here's the fun(?) bit. When I came out to Pops about my sexuality...

He didn't give a shit, so it was...anti-climactic, to say the least. I was relieved, but more-so confused that anything at that time. I did so not because I wanted to seek comfort (I guessed?), but it's also one of my failed tactics to convince him to kick me out of the house and from there I was to hitch-hike to Furore Point and sneak into my bro's place. I figured he would do that because he's a devout Christian, but not the preachy type, and I didn't really think on how his younger kid's sexuality would affect his image in his workplace either. So instead he yelled at me if I ever had sex with anybody behind his back. I said no, I was a virgin, no blowjobs, no handjobs. Just...solo. (No, I didn't tell him about the last part.) He didn't believe me. What?