Truth Unfolded (And Madness Too)
1. Devil on my Tongue
I don’t want to give any funny anecdotes this time. Not any hellos, either.
But that day, I was too shocked to. Too mad to.
That time, I’d let me bite the devil on my tongue.
2. Tell Me, Now!
I bolted out of Mr. B’s office, not even bothering with the broken glass box and crumbled cookies. I knew Mr. Bowers with going to have his director’s talk with us JPKs.
I reached the common room and stormed in before he could start. Everyone looked up in surprise.
“Trevor, what’s going on?” Mrs. Bowers asked.
I glared at her husband. “You tell ‘em!”
Mr. Bowers was silent but pale.
I scoffed. “You’re not going to accept the fact and spill the beans about you moving away from New York?”
Everyone else gasped.
“You weren’t supposed to find out—“ Mr. B started.
“But I did! I found out! No difference now, huh? You saw me, you saw my emotions, you knew, you accepted them!”
I wasn’t stopping. “I thought things would go the right way, the safe way, now. Everyone didn’t have to see the Monites again! But no! You had to pick moving! You know, you definitely know, that I’m going to lose everything once you leave!”
I looked at Tana. Mr. Bowers knew what was up with me, but didn’t even try to acknowledge it! How could he?
Then, the shock and anger drained out. I was feeling more sad than ever. I plopped down, and cried, full-scale. I pretty much emptied most of the water content from my body, but I couldn’t help it. No one tried to comfort me, which was okay, because I didn’t need comforting.
Not at all.
3. (Don’t You Be) Sad
Everybody left after my outburst, including Mr. Bowers. I guessed they didn’t want to stick around longer.
It was only me in the room. After a few seconds, Tana came in.
“Hey,” she said quietly, without her usual joyful self.
“Hey,” I replied.
There was a silence.
“Trevor?”
I looked at her.
“Are you mad at me?” She sounded timid, almost scared.
“Why would I be?”
“What you just did…”
“That showed that I was mad at your dad.”
She didn’t believe me.
“Trevor, just answer me, truthfully! I needed a huge weight to be lifted off of my shoulders. Please.”
She was sitting in front of me, and when she said that sentence, she got up and sat next to me on my beanbag chair.
I looked down. I wasn’t mad at all! What was she even talking about? Unless…
“Wait, did you hear what me and Elijah were talking about, back then?”
She stayed quiet.
Taking her hand, I said, “Tana, I didn’t mean any of it, if you heard.”
Tears form in her eyes.
“Tana. Tana, tell me! Did you hear? Please, I don’t want to start crying again.”
I let go of her hand and covered my face. I messed up! Again! I was making Tana upset, and she wasn’t speaking. I didn’t know what to do. I was actually thinking whether to tell her what I had been hiding, but I didn’t want to.
There has to be another way.
Tana was crying a little now. I touched her shoulder.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did, but if I did anything, anything wrong, I’m sorry.”
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she just got up and ran outside.
My heart ached.
What did I just do?
4. Trust Someone, Again
Narrative Continued by Tana
I just had to get up. I knew that Trevor was mad at me. Who else could he blame? Maybe Elijah found out and told him. That’s why I saw them fight. Trevor denied that he liked me. It was crushing enough.
Trevor isn’t the guy to get so mad easily. He’s sweet, and happy. I liked him, but then, he didn’t like me back. But he wasn’t mad about me, but at Dad. For moving.
I went into Dad’s office. Nothing was cleaned up: the papers were strewn all over the table, and there was a glass box that cracked open when it hit the floor. I saw Mrs. Sanders’ cookies, smashed to bits.
I carefully stepped over the glass and headed to the table. Dad’s diary was open. I looked at the entry. There were two on each page, both dated today. I skimmed through the lines until I reached Trevor’s name.
I could’ve told Trevor, and he would’ve been approving, but now, I’m not so sure. I see the way he looks at Tana. I know he doesn’t want her to leave.
Did I read what I just read?
I went to the next entry.
I don’t know how he found out, though I regret having left the diary open. I knew he’d a little sad, but to go full-on ballistic…it scared everyone. Trevor’s the calm guy. But what he said strangely left joy in my heart. It—
“Tana?”
It was Indigo. She was standing at the door, then looked at the diary in my hands. Her eyes widened. “Is that—“
“Dad’s journal.”
She carefully stepped over the glass. “Does it say anything about Trevor?”
I shook my head. “I can’t get what he did say.”
Her head tilted to the door. “Put it down and let’s get outta here.”
Indigo was my best friend then, when I thought Trevor was angry with me. She and I grew close through art. I liked her because she was really gutsy and brave, and she could understand all of my secrets. Including the one about Trevor.
“He hates me,” I told her the next day.
“Are you sure about that?” Indi asked me. That was what I called her: Indi.
“He just said so the other day. He doesn’t like me.”
“‘Doesn’t like you’ isn’t the same as ‘hates you’.”
“Then what, though?”
“Tana, you saw the way he looked at you. He must like you.”
I shook my head. “I still don’t believe it.”
But what she said gave me a little hope.
I tried talking to Trevor, but he was in a mood. I didn’t know what to do. He also wanted to talk, but then I was in a mood. Ironic.
We didn’t talk anymore. Just the usual hello’s and hi’s.
Nothing else.
5. A Pen at my Doorstep
Narrative Continued by Tana
I got up early one day, brushed my teeth, took a bath, dressed, and decided to take Holly outside, sit on our newly acquired swing bench, and breathe in some fresh morning air. But when I opened my door, I found a bunch of Crayola Supertips Markers tied with a sunflower. I didn’t know who left it. I picked the bundle up and found a card on the ground. I picked that up and read these words:
Keep the gift. I’m sorry.
I thought it was Trevor who sent it.
Every morning then, there was stationery at the door. Pencils, pens, erasers, markers, washi tapes, and even notebooks and journals. They were accompanied by some flowers and the same card: Keep the gift. I’m sorry.
I had a feeling that Trevor had sent the stuff. I mean, what can I explain? During studio school, I used some BT21 stationery that was one of the gifts. Trevor saw and he beamed in pride, which meant that he gave them to me.
The stationery never stopped coming, though.
Not yet.
Trevor and I texted each other when we were at home a couple of days later. He went first.
Hi.
I was next.
Hi.
The pattern went on like that, when we asked each other general questions Then, he confessed.
I sent the stationery. I’m glad you liked them.
You did?
Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t notice.
No, I just knew in the back of my head.
I just wanted to say sorry, you know.
…
You aren’t going to accept it?
I need to think about it.
He sent a sad emoji and went offline. I hated to hurt his feelings, but what could I do? I didn’t understand him yet. I needed to do that first.
6. Ready For Us
Narrative Resumed by Trevor
Tana broke to us some more news, which actually made us feel better.
“I’m going to bucket-list my time here.”
“What do you mean?” Wylie asked.
“Look, by the end of the year, we’re moving. So, starting from now till the moving day, I’m going to do one hundred things that I absolutely have to do before I go.” She meant it, apparently.
“It’s quite a lovely approach,” mused Elijah, “In the book Goodbye, Mr. Terupt, the children also bucket-listed their remaining time with their beloved teacher before he and his family move away.”
“It’s an easier way to say goodbye.” Alana agreed.
Mr. Bowers stroked his beard. “It’s settled. Bucket-listing is going to be a part of Jr. Pop.”
“What’s the first item?” Indigo asked.
Tana pulled out her phone and scrolled through it, then stopped, and read, “‘#1: Dance on a Cadillac’.”
We widened our eyes. Seriously?
Tana noticed us looking at her oddly. “Come on, this comes in a real bucket list as well! What’s so wrong?”
“It’s…unusual.” Mrs. Bowers looked at Tana’s phone again to make sure she wasn’t joking.
“Where will we get a Cadillac?” I asked.
We were all quiet, thinking. After five minutes, Mr. Bowers left to take calls, and Mrs. Bowers had to prepare costumes for our new MV, ‘Ready’.
Everyone went on about their usual work. As for me, I sat in a chair and pulled out my phone to text Angela. It was most likely her recess about then, so she’d be free.
Hey, sis.
Angela texted back.
Hey, bro. Whatcha doin’?
Sitting around. Mr. B’s gonna be back any minute now, for shooting.
Cool! Which song?
’Ready’ by Alessia Cara. Heard of it?
Nah. I’ll check it out. Also, Mom made lunch at home; I’ll drop it off at YT Studios.
OK.
After Angie went offline, I looked over at Tana. She might’ve forgiven me, I thought. No harsh words were exchanged. She saw me looking, and ducked her head and blushed, quietly sketching.
Cooper and Elijah joined me at the chairs on either side of me.
“How does it go with her?” Elijah asked.
“Let’s see: I don’t know if she accepted my apology, but now, I don’t know if she’ll speak to me.”
“I just got a tip from Indi, though,” said Cooper. “She said—“
“—and I quote,” Elijah cut in. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“So everyone’s in on it?” I murmur. “Come on…”
“Relax, Trev, it’s secret. Only the Bowers and us JPKs know,” said Elijah.
“That’s practically everyone.”
“Still. Relax. Sort it out, though.”
After they got up and left, I glanced at Tana again, and she saw me again, and held up her sketchbook. A cartoon of me on my phone was drawn on it. I shook my head and laughed. She put it down, and winked.
Elijah was right. The feeling was definitely mutual.
We were able to strike item #1 of Tana’s bucket list, actually. Mr. Bowers knew a friend of a friend of a friend, who had an old Cadillac that didn’t work anymore, because the engine was ‘unfixable’, as the guy put it. So, when Mr. Bowers said that we needed a Cadillac for the music video, the guy was overjoyed and sold it to Jr. Pop in no time. It was part of the archive now.
We went vintage and neon for this video. Black all over for the clothes, the Cadillac, an artificial grass field, but neon animations and makeup was added. We also had the Jr. Pop logo painted in neon colours on our cheek, and the colours matched our dance partners. And, of course, mine matched with Tana.
It wasn’t easy to talk. I mean, who could? It was better when we were just friends.
We stood around quietly, then I whispered, “Still got an answer?”
Tana looked at me questioningly.
“You, know, accepting my apology.” I made a crying sign.
“Oh! Yeah, about that…I accept it. It’s alright. And I’m thinking you got the tip from Indi?” Tana turned a little pink.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
Was it warmer in here than usual?
“Uh,” she started, “about moving…”
I looked at her.
“I hate the decision too. Don’t get me wrong.” She stubbed her toe into the ground. “But I can’t deny the fact that there’s a good reason for moving, you know. With the bad guys and all.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” I whispered.
“About that—“ She looked at her watch, and nodded. “I wanna show you something. Come with me.”
She walked toward the staircase, and I followed her. We went up and up and up and up and up for what felt like millions of hours, when we finally reached a door. Tana opened it and the outside wind slammed into us. Tana gestured towards it with her head, and we walked out—onto the huge balcony on the topmost floor of YouTube Studios, overseeing the city.
“Where’d you find this?” I asked, amazed.
“Dad showed me before. It’s like my getaway, for when I don’t like being in a crowd so much. It’s a bit of a climb, but isn’t it worth it?”
I nodded. “Totally.”
She reached for my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. We stepped out a little more, to the big railing that bordered the floor.
“This can now be our hangout. What do you think?” She looked at me.
“I guess it works. I don’t know how much time we’ve got before…”
We both looked down at our feet, dropping hands. After a while, Tana walked back toward the door, and I followed her.
Could time be made?
7. Promise?
I actually found it fun to spend time with Tana on the top floor. Usually, we were accompanied by nice lo-fi music and Tana’s sketchbook, as we talked and joked about our day, or trends, or our dreams. Sometimes, we sang to the top of our lungs, then laughing about it in the end.
That was what happened, after singing the Christmas favourite ‘Santa Tell Me’. We laughed, thinking about what it would be like to celebrate Christmas, which was, at that time, eleven months away.
“You know,” Tana said, after catching her breath. “I wonder whether it told our fortune.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The song.”
“Yeah, but what does it have to do with us?”
Tana sang the main line of the song:
“Santa tell me, if you’re really there
Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.”
At that, I sadly dropped my eyes downward. Tana did the same. We sat in silence.
Then, I looked up to glance at her. She was swallowing hard, trying not to cry. She noticed me looking and tried to wipe her tears, but it was no use. I knew.
“Hey, it’s okay.” I reached out to take her hand. She squeezes back, but it was an unsure one.
Tana looks me in the eye this time, trying to make me understand that time is fast. I sighed. She was too realistic, but realism was needed. I hadn’t told her I liked her, but if I did, she would’ve felt better—or worse. I was chicken to say so anyway.
Tana then threw her arms around me, pulling me close. I didn’t mind, and squeezed back.
“Trev—don’t leave me alone, whether I’m here or not. Promise?” she whispered in my ear.
I hugged her so tight I might’ve cracked her ribs, but I didn’t care. I knew the feeling emitted that time, one that couldn’t be spoken out loud.
“I promise.”
8. JPK Kind
Our next song was another Alessia Cara hit, ’My Kind’. It was going to be a nostalgic video, where we’re just dancing around, while in editing, they’ll add some old videos of ours. For that, I had to rummage around my old memories, with help from Mom and Angie.
I was looking in Mom’s closet for some photos, when Angie snuck up on me from behind my back.
“Bro, you lookin’ for memories?” She asked me.
“Yeah.” I went through more folders, but found nothing.
“I know where those are,” she said.
I looked at her. “You serious?”
“Of course I am. I already went through there. Mom’s gonna kill us, but if it’s for the MV, then it’s worth it. Come on!”
Angie led me into her room, which is pretty much the same as mine, except while my room is totally blue, Angie’s room’s in different shades of pink. I know it sounds like gender stereotyping, but we like the colours, ‘cause it suits us. When we reached a magenta dresser, she pulled a drawer out, and there were hundreds of photos and some video files, too. I also saw an age-old cassette. What did Angie actually do?
While my sister hurried out of her room to grab the VCR (she forgot about it, in her haste), I took a look at the photos. It was actually a fun trip through memory lane, from my toddler selves to Angie as a newborn, and cradling her in my arms when I was two, as well as the first Jr. Pop concert I attended, to last year, when me, Mom and Angie posed in front of the old Jr. Pop studio, celebrating my being a new JPK. Then, there were more, some involving more of my personal life than the family. Photos of me wearing costumes for our music videos, poses with Wylie and Elijah during the making of EliTreLie, dumb selfies clicked from when I was bored. Maybe Mom took some digital photos from my phone and had them printed out. But I could’ve mailed those photos directly to Mr. B for the video. Why get them on paper? I ran my fingers along the edge of each photo, trying to remember the moments depicted. Afterwards, I collected all of the photos and headed to YT Studios. When I reached Mr. Bowers’ office, I handed them to him.
“I’m sorry, I don’t have the digital version. But can these work?” I asked him.
He looked at them, then nodded. “Yes, they work. My team would’ve preferred digital, but I’m a sucker for Polaroids and glossy paper photos. Thanks.”
“Dad!” I heard Tana call from outside. A minute later, she came in toting photos, which were half as much as I had. She looked at the stack I had set in front of Mr. B.
“Uh, hi, Trev.” She tried to smile. “You’re submitting…”
“Yeah. Do you have photos?” I gestured to the papers she was holding.
“Yes,” she said.
She hurried past me and set her photos on Mr. B’s desk, but she looked downcast as she did so. Mr. B, like me, noticed as well.
“Honey, I know that you don’t have enough of those, but it’s okay. I’ll see how to put those in.” He patted her hand.
I touched her shoulder. She nodded, then looked up, a faint smile on her face.
“I better get going,” she said, stepping out of the office. “See you later!”
After she left, Mr. Bowers looked at me, eyebrow raised and smiling. I rubbed my neck in embarrassment and left as well. Couldn’t exactly stand seeing him look at me that way, I guess. He knew me all too well.
‘My Kind’ was shot. I guess I was happy that we now got four videos down. But something about that video got me thinking.
Memories are important. I tried to make memories with Tana, of course, but then, I just wondered, maybe it’s not just Tana. I had been reminded occasionally that’s it was my second year, and after that another year, and then, by the time I was fourteen, I would have to leave Jr. Pop and start forging my own path as an alumnus. I tried to make enough memories, but I know that they would never be enough. But I lived it the best.
I guess I did that that year too. Lived every second.
Didn’t I?
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