1. Trying Hard Not To Think About Stuff, But…
… it comes back all the time. I’m trying to distract you by writing in-between-ers, but writing these books means that we are gonna return to the truth at the end of the loop. So, take this as a warning, and let’s go ahead.
2. ‘Dream’
But, I’m gonna take a step away from all that and talk about dreams instead.
Dreams are super important. It’s always good to have a dream in mind when you’re nearing the part of your life where you gotta go out into the world and step away from your comfort zone.
My dream, as you know, was to become a musical artist. And here I am! So, my dream was fulfilled pretty much with my solo album.
I wonder what my friends’ dreams were…
Narrative Continued by Elijah
Songwriting is very fun. I always carry around my leather journal and I had officially named it my songbook, and Tana even offered to make title stickers to paste on the cover, which she did. So now, my songbook had some ‘glam’, as she put it.
Not only did I finish ‘Dramatic’, but I also wrote ‘Let’s Go Back’, ‘Doing Something Right’, and ‘Colours’. Usually, Egan provided the rap section himself. For the Corduroy Sisters, I wrote ‘Fantasy’, ‘Independent Girl’, and ‘Brighter’. I even wrote songs for other artists, thanks to Egan’s wide musical circle. And Egan kept his end of the deal, by publishing the lyrics with my name in it. I decided to take a different name for writing songs, as I was already using my given name for singing. So, I shortened it, from Elijah Milne to Eli M.
Eli M: my second self in the world of music.
Narrative Continued by Wylie
Sean and I had it going pretty strong. Usually, dates were like fro-yo, concerts, and the occasional sparring match. Sometimes, he’d take me to his band’s rehearsals. His band’s name was One Wave, and he was the leader of the group.
On one of those rehearsals, which was of choreography, he invited me to join, so I agreed and met him in the dance room in the Future Music side of YT Studios. His other two bandmates were around too, so I slapped hands and bumped fists with each of them.
I quietly sat by the side as they rehearsed. The song they were doing was ‘Hold On’, which had the dance-y kind of beats. But somehow, their moves weren’t fitting, and they had no other ideas. I wondered if I should help them.
“Um, guys?” I asked.
They turned to look at me.
I got up. “Maybe you can try—” And I showed them a few movements that used waves, leg taps and popping. I hummed the song along with what I was doing. When I stopped, they looked at each other in surprise.
“Does it work?” I asked.
The second member, Myles, shrugged and said, “It should. I mean, we got nothing else to try.”
Sean nodded. “Okay let’s try.”
When they copied my steps, they actually fit! Maybe I got lucky, or maybe I was born for this. I clapped once they were done.
After the rehearsal, Sean said to me, “That was some good solution.”
“Thanks.” I slung my duffel over my shoulder.
“Wanna go for fro-yo?” He asked.
“Maybe later.” I checked my phone. “I gotta go help Trevor with recording. It’s ‘Girls Like You’ and ‘Together’ today.”
He widened his eyes. “How much is that guy gonna work? He’s only thirteen!”
I shot him a look. “I’ve known him for a long time, Sean. He’s dedicated to music more than any of us. It’s his dream, and he’s willing to accomplish it at any cost.”
“Any cost?” He raised an eyebrow.
I shrugged. “I guess so.”
Sean nodded slowly, then took off down the hallway. I stared back after him, then headed my way to find Trevor.
The next day, when I met with Sean and One Wave again, the band was looking at me expectantly. I was confused.
“We were hoping you could help us with choreo?” Tren, the third member, asked.
“Wait, seriously?” I asked. “You think I can do this?”
“Depends on whether you’ve been thinking about it,” Sean said.
I looked at my sneakers. “I have…”
He laid a hand on my shoulder. “Wylie.”
I looked up. He smiled. “I know you can do this.”
I bit my lip, and considered. Response from my brain? Yeah, c’mon, Wylie, let's help 'em.
And so began my side job as a choreographer. First it was for One Wave and Alumni, but gradually, I started doing for other bands and a few kids going solo too. I think the reason I was good at dancing was because I like physical activity, and dance is energising and encompasses the three main aspects: cardio, groove and stretch.
And luckily, I have all that on my side too!
Narrative Continued by Tana
“Tana!” Tam called.
I had gotten out of the recording room after a session with Trevor for the songs ‘Outlaws’ and ‘Welcome Back’. I was pretty breathless, but Tam sounded urgent.
“What’s up?” I asked when she arrived.
“Okay, so, one of Tom’s clients, Johnny, he’s doing a new album, and he doesn’t have album art ready yet. He’s been seeing your replicas of some other albums on Procreate, which you posted on your Instagram, and he wondered if you could do the same for him.”
I was surprised. Album artwork for someone else? Especially totally original stuff? Was it worth trying? I tapped my chin and thought.
“Oh.” Tam straightened. “Guess it’s gonna take a while, huh?”
An idea was forming in my head. I turned to her.
“How many tracks has Johnny recorded?” I asked.
“All of them. He just finished this morning.”
“Okay. Ask him to send you the tracks. Then, you mail them to me.”
Tam was confused. “What do the tracks gotta do with the artwork?”
“The tracks will give me an idea of the feel of the album, then I can draw something similar, and it will fit perfectly.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask him to do it right away.”
When she left, I rushed up the stairs to the common room of Jr. Pop and grabbed my iPad. I pulled the Apple Pencil from its top and opened Procreate to my secret gift for Trevor. And FYI, I had experience for drawing yet-to-release albums. You can ask Trevor himself.
Just then, Angela came in.
“Hey, Tana.” She wiped sweat from her face and plopped down next to me. “Whatcha doin’?”
I worked on the finishing touches. “Just drawing.” Then, I looked about, so no one else was there, and whispered, “Wanna see something?”
She leaned in. “Sure.”
I held up my iPad to show her my gift. “Do you think your brother will like it?”
Angela’s eyes widened. “OMG! How long have you been working on this?”
“Ever since my hands could start moving again in the hospital. Dad told me about Trev’s album, and I cooked this little thing up. It’s easier to do it on Procreate.”
Angela tilted her face left, then right, studying the picture. “He hasn’t named it yet, though. This’ll fit, right?”
“It should.” I leaned back, smiling.
Angela grinned. “Somethin’ up?”
I looked at her. “I mean, I’m glad he’s okay. Everyone is.”
Her grin faded. “I don’t think Trev is. Like, Mom noticed too. He looks happy, but I don’t think he feels happy.”
My jaw clenched, like it always does when someone is ready to give bad news. “How do you think he feels?”
Angela looked at me, fearful. “I think he’s… scared. Scared of something we don’t know.”
“D’you think it’s the third-person thing?” I asked, quickly closing my iPad. Even drawing his present felt like touching red-hot coals.
“Maybe?” Angela whispered. I could see she was scared. Because if the third person was after Trevor, that meant they could be after her too.
“Hey.” I touched her shoulder. “We don’t know who that third guy is after. Let’s hope it’s not you both. Okay?”
She nodded, then left. To calm myself, I squeezed my hands closed, then opened them.
I just hoped the third person wasn’t after any of us.
Narrative Resumed by Trevor
When I'm apart from you
I just close my eyes
And all I have to do
Is dream, dream, dream, dream
About you…
I listened as ‘Dream’ played in my AirPods, glad for some sort of distraction. I did dream about things, good and bad.
But I passed a mirror in the hallway, and I stopped to double back. I pretended to smooth my hair, but there was no mistaking the imaginary voices, which drowned out the music.
You do realise you made a mistake.
“No, I didn’t,” I murmured.
You will pay, Trevor Sanders.
I groaned inwardly. Couldn’t they just shut up? What a storm system.
3. A Permanent NYC Tour
“That’s our set?” Tana asked.
“Sure is.” Mr. B nodded. “We designed it to look like the kind your TV talent shows have. Should look realistic now.”
“It actually is,” Julianna said.
And indeed it was. The set team had gone overboard on the design. The back was a silhouetted landscape in black, dark pink and purple. Above the artwork were giant spotlights positioned at the top, and more on the corners below. The platform was a massive set with a shiny, almost mirror-like floor. There were markings in green tape, red tape and other tapes too.
“I think Ms. Gwen wanted those,” Mr. B said, referring to the green and red crosses over the stage floor. “She’s all about position, you know that.”
“What are the songs we’re gonna perform?” I asked.
“The younger ones have ‘Make It To Christmas’, ‘Disturbia’ and ‘Positions’. You guys have ‘Butter’, ‘Yummy’ and ‘I’m So Tired’. And finally, you guys are all performing for ‘Magic Shop’ and ‘Here With Me’.”
“I know this sounds rude, but doesn’t that seem like an awfully small tour?” Isaiah said.
“Oh, no, son, these are your main songs. You have more coming up. And yes, there will be pairing for a few, plus solos, and other things. It’s safe to say, Isaiah, that you can count on this year being huge tour time.”
“Now, kids,” Ms. Gwen said from behind us, spooking us all. “Let’s get to practice. One good thing about virtual tour is that we don’t have to worry about learning new routines on different stages. We’ll have one stage, the rest of the year. Comprendo?”
We nodded.
“Alright, then, let’s get to work. I want everyone on their positions. Trevor, Tana, Wylie, Elijah, to the back corners, I marked those with a green X. The rest of you to the front, on the red Xs, and five, six, seven, eight!”
The music began from somewhere in the back of the set, but we got to dancing the tour moves Ms. Gwen drilled into us in rehearsals. Ms. Tempi even made us sing along too. After maybe two hours of practicing, we were going home. I grabbed my duffel and headed out of the set.
As I passed by the dance room, I grimaced. What happened to these voices? Why did they want to torment me endlessly?
I gave up resisting and went inside the room.
“Alright, fine. What do you want?” I asked, staring at the mirror.
You know what… The voices seemed to whisper.
“Look!” I yelled. “I didn’t do anything wrong. All I wanted was to be a good guy! I know people depend on me. They all do. And I’m not messing anything up. Really. I know better than to ignore you. But if you wanna have at me, do it some other time. Not right now. Okay?”
The voices went silent. I sighed, and headed for the door again, but they started screaming. So badly, I gasped and squeezed my head with both hands.
YOU WILL PAY, TREVOR SANDERS! YOU WILL PAY!
“Stop! Please!” I dropped to my knees. “Just stop… no…” Tears ran down my face. I curled into a ball, whispering, “No, no, no…”
What was I gonna do now?
4. Not Him
Narrative Continued by Tana
I was running down the hallway when I heard the yelling. I turned to the dance room, and it sounded like it was the source. But I put my ear to the door first, to listen. And what I heard made my heartbeat stop.
“… I know better than to ignore you. But if you wanna have at me, do it some other time. Not right now. Okay?”
That sounded like Trevor. Who was he talking to?
I heard quiet for a while. Then his footsteps came toward the door. And… he stopped. And he screamed.
“Stop! Please! Just stop… no…”
That made me scrabble at the knob, my heart pounding and my worries intensifying. Finally, I threw open the door and rushed inside.
“Trevor!” I ran to him. He was curled up in a ball, tightly hugging his legs, head in his knees. I put a hand on his shoulder. “Who were you talking to? Are they around right now? I’ll call Dad and security, they’ll catch the bad guys.”
Silence.
“Trev. Please, say something.”
Then, he looked up. And he looked scared, like he ran into a scary ghost. His lip trembled.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
He looked at the giant mirror in front of us, and I was worried that his mouth was sealed shut after whatever happened. I had to get him to talk. But all of a sudden, he started crying. Softly at first, then his sobs grew louder.
“Hey.” I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him into a hug. “It’s okay. Shh… it’s alright.”
“Tana, I’m scared… I’m really scared. I don’t know what to do…” he said between tears.
I knew what he feared, but I decided to hold it off until he calmed down, and we could talk about it. I rubbed his back, and then sang softly:
“Are we gonna make it?
Is this gonna hurt?
Oh, we can try to sedate it
But that never works
Yeah…”
Trevor stopped crying. I continued:
“I start to imagine a world where we don't collide
It's making me sick, but we'll heal and the sun will rise
If you tell me you're leaving, I'll make it easy
It'll be okay
If we can't stop the bleeding
We don't have to fix it, we don't have to stay
I will love you either way
Ooh-ooh, it'll be oh, be okay
Ooh-ooh…”
And we stayed like that for a while, my head racing, thinking about the things that hurt him. As I hugged him, I thought about why he had to suffer and why he had to take the pain. It should’ve been someone else.
Not him.
At night, I sat in my room, holding my phone. I was going to text Trevor about what happened. I took a deep breath, and typed:
What happened in the dance room?
Two seconds passed, and then he replied:
There were voices in my head. And these voices have been burning into my head, like, telling me I've done something wrong.
I chewed my lip, trembling, then went ahead:
But you haven’t done ANYTHING wrong.
Who’s to say I haven’t?
But…
Tana, I broke up with you a couple of months ago. Isn’t that reason enough?
I paused. I forgave him, and I knew all of it was my fault. So, why was he still beating himself up over a fight that looks meaningless now?
Trev… you need to tell someone.
And let everyone down because I’m weak? I need to be there for the gang. I have to be there so that everyone’s protected. So that YOU’RE okay.
At YOUR cost? You’re gonna…
But I hadn’t typed anything after that. That’s because whatever I was thinking about, all the horrors that could hurt him, all that pain he’d feel, I couldn’t put them into words. I don’t think anyone could.
Tears rolling down my eyes, I typed one last sentence:
I love you.
One second passed. Two. Then, a reply popped up:
I love you too.
I sighed, and looked up at the ceiling.
I hoped he was okay.
5. ‘Lonely’, But I Wasn’t
Narrative Resumed by Trevor
When I think of my relationship with Tana, from year one until year three, it always used to be like I was the one who got her through the hard times, and she was always like someone to care for. But from that event in the dance room, we just had a colossal role reversal. Tana became the one to care when I had the hard times. But I later realised that a romance like ours goes two ways, and not one. Moreover, in the tough times, all we had was each other. The third year of Jr. Pop is proof of it all.
The event in the dance room also led to the next recording of another song for my album a few weeks later: ‘Lonely’ by Justin Bieber and benny blanco.
I was in the recording room. Sean, Mr. B and Mr. Callahan were outside at the controls. And Tana also came to see how it went, maybe as a gesture of love and maybe to have my back too. Like she felt the same pain. And who’s to say she really had?
The piano started. I took a deep breath, and sang:
“Everybody knows my name now
But somethin' 'bout it still feels strange
Like lookin' in a mirror, tryna steady yourself
And seein' somebody else…”
I did stare in a mirror, but I saw myself. Unfortunately, there were monsters with me too. Just thinking about them made me grimace, and I continued:
“And everything is not the same now
It feels like all our lives have changed
Maybe when I'm older, it'll all calm down
But it's killin' me now
What if you had it all
But nobody to call?
Maybe then you'd know me
'Cause I've had everything
But no one's listening
And that's just really lonely
I'm so lonely
Lonely…”
Through the glass of the room, I caught Tana’s eye. She looked passive, like she didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad. I gave her a reassuring nod, then went ahead:
“Everybody knows my past now
Like my house was always made of glass
And maybe that's the price you pay
For the money and fame at an early age
And everybody saw me sick
And it felt like no one cared a bit
They criticised the things I did as an idiot kid
What if you had it all
But nobody to call?
Maybe then you'd know me
'Cause I've had everything
But no one's listening
And that's just really lonely
I'm so lonely
Lonely
I'm so lonely
Lonely…”
And the session ended. When I came out, Tana gave me a hug. I didn’t mind and squeezed back.
“I know it hasn’t been easy for you,” she said.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Mr. B clapped me on the back after I released. “Son, you did a good job. I bet you’re nearly done now.”
“That’s right, sir.” I nodded.
“Well, I have a gift for you.” He motioned me down the hall, and Tana and I followed. As we walked, he continued, “Actually, it was more of Tana’s gift. She, uh, told me about some of the things you’re going through.”
“Oh.” I looked at her, and she immediately looked down at her sneakers, like she didn’t mean to. “No, it’s okay. I guess I’ll let people know now,” I said, patting her shoulder.
When we came into Future Music’s common room, Mr. B handed me a bag. Confused, I looked inside, and pulled out… a denim jacket.
“I thought you wanted a change of style.” Tana shrugged, smiling. “Plus, don’t you have an album coming up? Might as well dress cool and sing it out.”
I gave her a side hug. “Not what I expected, but I love it.”
I tried on the jacket, and surprisingly, it fit snugly. I felt confident with it on, like I could handle anything thrown at me.
Mr. B sensed that Tana wanted to talk to me alone, so he and Mr. Callahan left us on our own. I smoothed the jacket down.
Tana looked at me. I thought she was worried.
“You okay? I mean, you look shaky,” I said.
She chewed her lip, then leaned in and kissed me. When she released, I realised she actually was worried.
“Hey.” I touched her hair. “I’m okay. And these are my problems, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“No, it’s just…” She looked down. “I… I went through the same things. Maybe not monsters, but I sure felt the world will crash over me. And it was horrible,” she continued in a whisper. Tears started to her eyes. “I don’t want you to get hurt the way I did.”
“And I won’t,” I said softly, cupping her cheek with one hand. “You taught me how to brave, even if you don’t think I did. But, I’m gonna be honest with you on this one…” I swallowed. “I am scared, and I want you to stick with me. I mean, I’m in a mess somewhere. I’d just like a hand to hold.”
She hugged me. “You know I’ll be there.”
I smiled, and wrapped my arms around her, squeezing her tightly. In my head, I heard ‘Monster’ again, but that time, the song didn’t have enough weight like it did before. That’s because I had Tana to look to. I wasn’t gonna leave her, and she wasn’t gonna leave me. It was like we were made for each other.
Suddenly, Mr. B’s voice sounded through the PA, and it sounded urgent and melancholic.
“Every JPK, report to the common room now. I repeat, this is an emergency. Report. Now.”
Tana and I released. Something was wrong. We could hear it in Mr. Bowers’ voice. We quickly rushed to the common room.
And we were right. From that moment onward, everything changed.
6. The Identity Had Been Revealed
“Guys, I have bad news,” Mr. B said, when we all were present. And the tone in his voice was so different, I realised that he had never used it before, and that the sound of it meant that he had been given news that he didn’t even want to tell us, but he had no choice.
“We found out the identity of the third accomplice,” he continued. “And before I have anything more to say, I’d like to do something. Elijah, please take this.”
He handed Elijah a file that was the kind I had seen in detective shows. Elijah swallowed hard and opened it, and at a glance, the blood drained from his face.
“I see you have registered the information, and… well, would you mind summarising it for us?” Mr. B bent forward in his chair.
Elijah nodded slowly, then said, “This file contains the details of the third criminal. And his name happens to be… Richard Sanders.”
“Wait a minute. Sanders?” Isaiah turned to me and Angie, shocked and concerned.
Angie looked at me, scared. “Trevor, what’s going on? Why is Richard after us?”
I didn’t know. And this was what was happening every time: people looking to me for hope, reassurance, and bravery. And, at that moment, I couldn’t give any of those because I was having a rough patch and I couldn’t even calm myself. But thank goodness Tana was there when I was needed. She knelt down in front of Angie and gripped her shoulders.
“Angela,” she said firmly. “Whatever happens, no matter what this Richard guy is gonna do, we are gonna protect you and Trevor from any harm. No matter what happens to us. I know you will feel better with a pep talk from your brother instead of me, but even Trevor needs our help now.” She looked at me. “We all need each other’s support. And what I said now, I mean it.”
Angie’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you, Tana.”
“And don’t worry about being alone now. You’re not anymore. You have us.” Isaiah squeezed her hand, and Ahnya and Julianna gave her side hugs. Seeing this, Tana smiled and got up to stand with us.
“Alright, now what I want you to do is gather in your common room and discuss a plan of action. If you would like to opt out, you can go home early,” Mr. B said, sitting back in his chair.
We nodded and did as he told. No one opted out. Everyone wanted in. And as we settled into our beanbag chairs, and the new Jr. Pop Kids in a couch, we decided to set things right and end this.
“I presume the first step will be to memorise this fact file and familiarise ourselves with the details of Richard,” Elijah said.
“Trevor and I can ask Mom about him,” Angela seconded.
“Okay. Anything else we need to do?” Tana prompted.
Ahnya raised her hand. “Once we find out what’s going on, we push Richard, the Wells and the Monites into the most secure prison available in America. And we’re free.”
Free. That was like the magic word on our lips. We had been yearning for it. And that year, we were gonna get it.
And by the end of the brainstorm session, we had a clear plan. A plan to finally put the bad guys in their place. Not temporarily, but permanently. But even after, I felt that I needed to let people know about my insecurity. At least the JPKs. So, I asked them all to hang back for a sec.
“Guys…” I swallowed hard. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Slowly, I told them everything. About what was happening to me in the last few weeks. About the monsters in my head. About how I couldn’t give all the strength they needed. And when I finished, Angie, tearful, gave me a tight hug.
“You should’ve told me,” she whispered.
“I know, I just…” I squeezed back. “I thought you may think I wasn’t good enough to be your big bro…”
Angie gasped. “Trevor Sanders! What are you even talking about? You are the best brother I could ask for! And we all have things we’re scared of. That doesn’t make you weak. Don’t you ever say that again!”
I nodded. “Alright, calm down. I swear I won’t.”
When I released, Elijah hugged me next.
“Friend, I am so sorry we couldn’t help,” he said.
“It’s okay. No one would know what to do, either,” I reassured.
Elijah pulled back and held on to my shoulders. “But now we shall always stand by your side. That is our guarantee.” The other JPKs agreed.
I smiled. “Thanks guys.” And then I didn’t have to worry about being alone.
I knocked on Mom’s bedroom door.
“Mom?” Angie called.
When Mom opened the door, she looked surprised. “Kids. I thought rehearsal ended later than this?”
“We came home early because we wanted to talk to you,” I said. “Can we go to the living room?”
Heading down the stairs, Mom motioned towards us to follow her. “I made some cookies, perhaps we can share them over the discussion.”
Angie and I shared a glance. Once Mom found out about what we were going to ask her, it wouldn’t exactly make for good cookie-talk.
We sat on the couch and Mom set a platter of chocolate-chip cookies. She grabbed one and sat in another armchair in the room. Taking a bite, she continued. “So, what is this about?”
Angie and I looked at each other again, then I took a deep breath. “What do you know about Richard Sanders?”
Mom gasped, nearly dropping the cookie. “What?”
“He’s the third person. He’s after us. Trevor and me. We thought you might know something about him,” Angie pressed.
“I…” Mom sighed. She looked as if she regretted what she was gonna say. “Richard Sanders is your father.”
The room went silent. We were trying to process this: Richard, our father. The dad we never knew. And he’s a criminal.
Mom went ahead. “Richard and I met when I was in law school. He was rather famous in those days. A pop star whose albums became best-selling and record-breaking. Then all the regular things happened: first date, marriage, moving to New York. And having you two.”
She looked at me. “He was a very kind man, and he had a big heart. Anything I didn’t want to do, he didn’t make me. But you know what happens next.”
We shook our heads. “We don’t.”
“The dark side of his fame took over. He used to go out for long periods of time during tours, promotions, all that, and I stayed behind. But as he went out more and more, he started acting strange. He blamed it all on obscure family history. But I knew better.
“A few days later, when Trevor was four years old, I found out that he was committing crime, and he had quit making music. He said he couldn’t handle it because he heard voices telling him to do better, better, better, but he couldn’t. I told him there were other ways to make money, but he said this was the only way to earn as much to care for us. And we got into an argument. That night, he left, saying that he was doing this for us. He even wanted to take you kids as collateral, but I said that I was keeping you both under my custody and protection because I vowed to make sure you grow up hard but right. But I assume he’s still bent on it. I haven’t heard from or of him since.”
She nibbled at her cookie. Dutifully, we reached for our pieces. I processed all of this as I ate. Richard was a good guy, but so much of being a star made him switch to bad things. And the voices mentioned were not unlike mine.
“Do you have any pictures of him?” Angie asked.
Mom got up and went upstairs. A few minutes later, she came back down with a photo, the glossy kind we print for frames. She handed it to me.
I took it wordlessly. It was a family photo. Mom was standing up, holding Angie, who was maybe a year old. And a three-year-old me was sitting in a black-haired man’s lap. This man must’ve been Richard. And I looked a lot like him. We looked like a happy family. But Richard had to break off things with Mom and make us unhappy. And we were somewhere in between at the time we looked at this photo.
“You are so much like him, Trevor,” Mom whispered. “He’d be proud of who you are now.”
I swallowed. “I guess so. But I’m glad the voices in my head didn’t persuade me to do the things he did.” I looked up at her. “I won’t be like him.”
She put a hand on my head. “I know you won’t. Your heart can’t shrink to his size. It’s huge already.”
I smiled.
I already felt lighter.
7. At Last!
Narrative Continued by Elijah
My efforts to impress Wylie went in vain, apparently. She and Sean were now a ‘thing’, and nothing could change her mind. So, I gave up and tried to keep my friendship with her straight and true. And it turned out, I had more to worry about than that junk.
The third criminal’s identity was Richard Sanders, Trevor and Angela’s father. It was rather a shock to know that he was a bad person, but he was a singer too, and he would’ve made the Grammys had it not been for the slew of monsters that took over him, much like it did to Trevor. And he couldn’t get out.
Then there was Trevor to being with. To find out that he was suffering and struggling made something of mine break inside. And why didn’t I see the signs? Why didn’t I notice? Was I not a good enough friend?
But I was. It was his reluctance to share that explained it all. I was aware that he’d think we would feel like he was not going to be a good enough person with the monsters, but now I know better when to watch out. I will always keep his comfort in mind and help him. It’s what a real best friend would do.
One day, we (Alumni) decided to go and hang out with Tom and Tam. They were taking a break too, and we stepped into Tam’s room. I couldn’t believe they had their own office-like areas, but you know what they say: when you go, you go hard.
Tam’s room was a nice pleaser to the eyes: bright fabrics all around, spools of different colours of threads sitting in a shelf, the pink sewing machine in a corner. But not so much as the company of Tam and Tom themselves. It’s always much fun.
When we gathered around on the wooden floor, Tana was first to speak. “The results of my DNA test came today.”
I knew about this. She had taken it for historical and medical purposes. It was part of her recovery process.
“And I have no serious genetic medical conditions to worry about. And my family bloodline goes a long way back, but apparently, the first criminals in my family tree were my ancient grandparents. Then Nora and Tony,” she continued.
“And what about your ethnicity?” Tam asked.
Tana took a deep breath. After a short silence, she meekly said, “I’m Filipino-American.”
Wylie gently scrunched her nose, like she was concentrating. “Filipino?”
“That means Tana is from the Philippines,” I said.
Trevor’s eyes brightened. “Hey, I remember reading about that country! It’s made up of a cluster—“
“An archipelago,” I corrected.
“—right, an archipelago of islands, which are more than seven thousand! Can you believe that, Tana? You come from seven thousand islands!”
Tana smiled. “If only I knew which one out of all of them. But either my parents or grandparents immigrated to the US because I know for sure I was born here.”
“Most likely your grandparents,” I said. “Your parents seem like they were born here too.”
Tana sighed. “We’ll, I don’t know anything about Filipino culture. That’s for sure.”
“I can teach you how to use my Arnis,” Wylie says, referring to her weapon set of short wooden tubular fighting structures, also native to the Philippines. “I bet that counts, right, Eli?”
I nodded. But before we were about to continue, Wylie’s phone rang.
“Hold on for a sec.” She picked it up. “Oh, hey, Sean!”
I slumped down. Great.
“Mm-hmm. Oh, okay.” Pause. “Uh-huh. No, it’s fine, I probably will be okay.” Another pause, and this one was for a long time. And in that long time, Wylie’s face morphed from confusion to sadness to hurt to anger because whatever Sean told her had upset her.
“How could you do that to me?” She asked, voice growing louder. “How could you just—no, I will not. I knew you’d do that. And I’m not gonna talk to you ever again!” She ended the call, then all of a sudden, she started crying.
We all wondered what was going on, and consoled her and tried to coax an answer. She didn’t need any coaxing, though because after a few minutes, she blurted, “Sean broke up with me.”
Our jaws dropped. That was colossal news. And somehow, Trevor got the meaning that I understood behind it all. He widened his eyes at me, as if to say, You have your opening now!
But I was too chicken to tell Wylie I liked her, even if the breakup just gave me a jump to the next level. Maybe I’d plan it for later. I didn’t tell now.
“That’s terrible,” Tam whispered.
Wylie sniffled. “He’s just like Mako.”
“Mako may have made mistakes when it comes to his relationships, but he’s still loyal to Korra and Asami,” I said comfortingly, recognising the LOK reference. “He is still a good person, and so is Sean. Did he say why he broke up with you?”
She nodded. “He’s going out with another girl. That’s why I’m mad.”
Okay, even I had to admit, that was a fair reason for Wylie to be so mad; dumping her for another made her seem inferior. It was understandable.
After a while, Wylie seemed better. She got up and went outside. I didn’t know what she was going to do.
But I knew what I was.
Later that night, just before any sensible curfew, I texted Wylie.
Would you mind meeting me outside Trevor’s home? I want to talk to you.
Two seconds later, a reply popped up.
Be there in a minute.
I exhaled, then threw on a light jacket (it was getting chilly, as it was October) and headed outside. I walked down the street and in front of Trevor’s house. I saw through the windows that Trevor and his family were eating a good dinner, and smiled. They looked happy, like Richard hadn’t affected them at all. I sent a silent prayer into the universe to keep them safe and protected.
I heard footsteps. Wylie had arrived.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” She asked.
I rocked on my heels, then took a deep breath. Now or never.
“Wylie, I know this may seem like a great deal to handle because I know you’re reeling from the breakup, but I just want to say—“ I looked her right in those beautiful ocean eyes of hers. “—I really, really like you.”
I said it. Finally. It was good to get it off my chest.
Wylie stood there, trying to process it all. Her mouth opened and closed, and after a while of awkward yet impactful silence, she spoke.
“How do I know you won’t be like Sean?” She sounded wary and sceptical.
I walked closer to her. “Because maybe you only knew Sean for perhaps nine months, but I’ve known you for almost ten years now. And you know I won’t do that.”
“People change.” There were tears in her eyes. “What makes you think I’m dumb enough to trust you?”
“If I have changed, it’s because I think of you as Katara instead of Wylie,” I said.
She drew in a breath. She was thinking.
“Wylie, you can trust me,” I prompted. “Like you trusted me all those years ago.”
She looked down at her sneakers.
“I was jealous of Sean,” I blurted.
Her head snapped back up quickly.
“I’m not joking. When I saw you hanging out with him so much, I was wishing that it was me.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” she asked.
I sighed. “Because I was shy.”
She took a deep breath, and turned away, looking across the street, but then tilted her gaze to stare at the twinkling night sky. I knew from the look on her face that she was thinking about Mrs. Wilson.
“Wylie?” I asked.
She looked at me.
“Do you think Mrs. Wilson would let us get closer?”
Her mouth hung open, and the tears began to fall. She wasn’t making any noise, just silently crying. I swallowed a lump in my throat. At times like these, it was best to leave Wylie alone with her thoughts. But I wanted to stay with her, not because I needed an answer, but because she needed company. Then, I thought of something.
“Do you know,” I said slowly, “that when everyone passes on, they become a star?”
Wylie looked at me, but I kept staring at the sky.
“But sometimes, special people can’t fit in small stars, so they become bigger stars.”
More silence.
“But the extra-special people…” I looked at her.
“What about them?” She asked.
I smiled. “The extra-special people cannot even be in the biggest stars possible, so eventually, nature gives up and make them chunks of the moon because the moon can fit the size of their hearts. And the extra-special people’s spirits find themselves in new forms on the earth.”
I turned to Wylie. “I think Mrs. Wilson became a part of the moon. And that her spirit is in you.”
She wiped her face, then whispered, “How do you know?”
“I know because you need someone to tell you how special you are. And I can tell you think you aren’t the best girl for anyone. But you are. You’re smart and pretty and strong and brave, and you have everyone’s back. Not only that, but you’re our rock. You keep us grounded.” I leaned in. “And no matter what, I’ll always care. I’ll have your back when you need it.”
She smiled back. “Thanks for making me feel better. And… I’ve been thinking. I might have been surprised at first, but now I understand that I need someone else. I…” She chewed her lip. “I want that person to be you. I want you to like me.”
I grinned. How did it feel to hear those words? Amazing. Heartwarming. I finally had a girl to care for. Someone who won’t let me go, and someone I won’t let go either.
“And I know that Mom would like it.” She stepped closer to me, so close I could see the minuscule specks of grey in her blue eyes. “Mom would expect this. And she’d be really happy.”
I smiled even bigger, and I… I don’t know how it happened, but I kissed her. On the lips. It felt gentle and soft, and my insides were on a turnabout. And just as quickly I released. Wylie seemed just as taken aback as I was, but she smiled and giggled.
“Guess it’s your first kiss too,” she said, blushing. I had never seen her blush before, and I was rather proud to know I was the cause. But something startled me.
“Wait a sec—Sean never kissed you?” I asked, incredulous. Surely, that must’ve happened at some point, right?
She shook her head. “I guess I was scared. But I’m glad I wasn’t, now.” Her fingers reached for mine, intertwining. I gave her hand a squeeze.
“Well… I guess we have to go,” she said, turning to look down the street. “My dad is probably waiting.” She turned back to me. “Wanna hang out tomorrow?”
I nodded. “That’d be great.”
She waved, and walked down the road, her curly blonde hair fluttering behind her. I stared back for a minute, then ran back home, ecstatic that I finally did it. I confessed my feelings.
Oh, how good it felt!
8. Not So Different
Narrative Resumed by Trevor
I was sitting on the grass, AirPods in my ears, phone in hand. I was watching something Mom had sent me. After finding out about Richard, she pressed me for all the details about my insecurity. She was understandably shocked after I told her everything, but then she started finding out new ways to help me cope with it. Angie, being a watchful little sister, even said that the word ‘insecurity’ is actually code for anxiety, and that I was unwilling to admit it. Maybe I was. I still call it insecurity. In my opinion, anxiety didn’t mean a world pressing you down. Insecurity did.
Some treatments for insecurity were nothing short of workable. For instance, Mom made sure I meditated fifteen minutes, twice a day, without fail. The next option was going to a therapist, but I for sure wasn’t ready to talk to a total stranger about my personal life. Instead, I suggested that I could get spiritual mentoring from Elijah, and even Angie was on board with it. Mom agreed without any reluctance after pressing, though because even she knew Elijah’s excellence in these matters. Added to that (and this was Angie’s idea, not Mom’s) were mandatory TV nights with Mom and Angie. These were fun and nonnegotiable, and I looked forward to them every day.
After a slew of other stuff, Mom then sent me a video to watch: Shawn Mendes’ Wonder interview with Zane Lowe1. And that was exactly what I was listening to at that moment, outside, on the grass. I was watching how Mr. Mendes talked about the making of one of his best albums of all time, and what was its impact.
At one point of the interview, Mr. Mendes started talking about his anxiety and how he couldn’t share it with other people, especially his girlfriend Camila Cabello because then everyone would think he was weak, and he didn’t want that. And I could totally relate to that, how I didn’t want anyone to know about my insecurity too. Because then people would think it’d make me feel weak. I wished I could tell Mr. Mendes I felt like that too, that there was the assumption that everyone thought I had no problems, when in reality, I did. And that moment made me come full circle about myself as a person, as a regular, flawed human being.
I was nearing the end when I heard footsteps. A few minutes later, Tana plopped down next to me. I pulled my AirPods out.
“Hey. What were you watching?” She asked me.
I showed her my phone screen. “This cool interview my mom sent. I think I really identify with what’s being talked about.”
“Oh yeah? And what is the subject?” She was curious and interested, so I told her all about the interview from the making of Wonder to Mr. Mendes’ life upto that point to the history behind some of the production, until I came to that part about his anxiety and how I identified with it. Tana patiently listened, nodding here and there. Once I was done, she gave me a little eye-opener too.
“Trev, ever since this year started, you always talked about how different you were from Shawn Mendes but how you still want to be like him, with amazing music and killer performances. But I bet after listening to this, you now know that maybe both of you aren’t so different after all. And I bet there are hundreds of other boys and men out there who feel the same too.”
I looked down at my screen. “Maybe I could send a comment saying thanks to Mr. Mendes on their behalf.”
She agreed. “Maybe you should. Then not only will Mr. Mendes feel like his message has been channeled, but also most people will feel great that someone like them could relate to this.”
Suddenly, rain began pouring outside, first in a drizzle, then heavily, the raindrops pounding our roof. Tana and I were in the shade, so we didn’t get wet. But that meant that she would have to wait until the rain stopped to go home.
Tana clucked her tongue. “Well, that’s a bummer. But that means more time to the both of us!” She nudged me. “Got a song to sing?”
I grinned, then nodded. I started to sing:
“Looking at your smile was like heaven
We were taking it slow
Walking in the streets until the evening
There was nowhere to go, yeah…”
Tana nodded, and began drumming the beat on her lap. I continued:
“We were in a daze, learning each other's names
Tracing shadows of rain down your back, oh
Thinking of your smile in my memory, baby, nothing comes close
It was the summer of love
A delicate daydream
And for a couple of months
It felt like we were eighteen, yeah
It was the summer of
La-la-love
La-la-love, yeah
It was the summer of
La-la-love
La-la-love…”
Tana smiled with me, and as I continued singing, I looked at the setting around me: under the shade of the roof, in the rain, sitting here, singing about a magical summer. Tana with me. No worries, no voices, no nothing.
I took a mental picture, and saved it.
- You guys can listen to this amazing interview on YouTube! Just click on that link highlighted. There might be mild swearing, but that part of the audio’s cut, so it’s safe. And you might like it too. I know I did! ↩︎
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