Same Old Song Read online

  Same Old Song

  Brenda Dorantes

  Copyright © 2020 by Brenda Dorantes

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ISBN: 9798622016837

  Same Old Song

  Cover Design by Murphy Rae, www.murphyrae.net

  This one goes to my mom, Nayeli.

  Thank you for being with me every step of the way and for supporting my sixteen year old dreams. You are a living example of never giving up even if sometimes things don’t turn up the way you want.

  “Without music, life would be a mistake” ― Friedrich Nietzsche

  Part One: The Story

  Chapter One

  Aidan

  I loved the feeling I got in my hands every time I played. It was an ecstatic feeling running through my fingers all the way down to my waist. Sometimes it felt like an electric current on my lower back which made it arch and I sat up straighter. The best part was how my mind seemed to be possessed, how everything around me would vanish and I would find myself taken over by the music.

  It was my own little universe between each note I played. When I was younger, I remember my Mother playing the music in the living room while Dad and Alex were outside playing football. I had never played in my short life back then, I would rather sit in my room and picture myself playing those notes Mom played, but I never came into the sense that maybe I should start. Mom always played very beautiful music, but it always was something she took from someone else. I wanted to make my own.

  When I was six years old my Mom took me by surprise when we arrived at a music department just a few blocks from where we lived. There she talked to a woman - who happened to be an instructor - about teaching me how to play. It wasn't until I was old enough that I realized how easy it was for my mother to read me. She knew what I wanted even when I never told her myself. That same day was when I officially became fascinated by music and even at such a young age I knew what I wanted to do with my life when I grew up.

  Time, as always, went by really fast.

  "Aidan, you've been going at it for hours now, can you give it a rest?" Alex complains from his bed on the other side of the room.

  I stop playing, look over at him and smile when I see him rubbing his face aggressively with both hands. I lean back on my bed and say, "If it bothers you, the door is right there." I point to the door with a smirk. Alex always complains about how much I practice, but he still never leaves the room.

  "Alex, shut up and finish the paper," said our roommate, Matthew, shaking his head before going back on his computer. They've been working on an article about sports for a week now and it's due tomorrow.

  Alex rolls his eyes and goes back to the paper he was working on his computer. Matthew gives me a nod and continues minding his own business. I smiled to myself, with Alex keeping his mouth shut and the room completely quiet, I can play without interruption. I grab my guitar again and start from where I left off before Alex decided to interrupt me.

  By the time they were done with their article that evening, I was halfway through my seventh song in a row, nonstop. I stop when the bed suddenly bounces and look up at Alex, who is leaning on his elbow, looking at me with one of those looks that say he has gotten another idea. Usually when that happens, it doesn't really work out for me.

  I try to remain indifferent to his newfound idea and carefully place my guitar next to my bed.

  "What is it now, Alex?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  He grins from ear to ear. "We're going to a party Saturday and you, my dear classic brother, will come with us."

  This time Matthew joins my bed and nods in approval. Since when did we become college girls that share a bed? The thought of going to a party with these two is just as appealing as watching my brother do his best Elvis Presley impersonator for the talent show. I rather not.

  "You each have your own bed." I remind them before grabbing my guitar again. "And no, I'm not going to that party." I start playing again, trying to ignore their glare until Alex snatched the guitar from my hands. "Alex!"

  He holds my guitar hostage next to him, far from my reach. "Listen to me, little brother, you need to go out and have some fun. When was the last time you kissed a girl? Or went to a party with your brother? We need some brother bonding, you know?"

  I cross my arms over my chest and glare at them both. Brother bonding my ass. That's just another excuse to make me feel bad and go with him.

  "Not a chance. Give me my guitar back."

  Matthew shakes his head and decides to add his two cents to the argument. "Look, Aidan, you can't spend hours locked up in that rehearsal room practicing only to come back here and practice until you pass out." He takes a pause, waiting for my response, but he won’t get one because I don’t see anything wrong with that. "Come on, when was the last time we all went out?"

  I reject the idea once again. Maybe I’m acting like a child, but there's no way in hell I'm going to a party with these two. Especially with the audition coming up in two weeks. I need to practice to nail the performance, it’s all or nothing for me here. They don't get that. Alex gets up after I repeat that I am not going, which is a bad sign because he's bigger than I am. Football player type of big. With one swift move, he grabs me by the collar of my shirt and throws me on the ground face down. The entire force of his weight comes crashing down on me when he drops on his elbow on my back. I think I also hear my ribs snapping in half in the process.

  I hissed, trying to push him off. It never works out, he eventually makes me say yes to whatever he wants by torturing me.

  "You see, little brother, I don't think you have a choice here. I'm not letting my brother, my blood, become an antisocial freak," Alex said, pressing his elbow deeper in my back.

  "Alex, get off." I groan in pain against the carpet.

  He ignores me. "So, this is what's going to happen: you're coming to this party with us and you're going to talk to pretty girls, drink a little alcohol, and have some fun, how does that sound?"

  "Like hell," I hissed, trying to stand up which made him dig his elbow deeper on my back, causing more pain. He is probably punching a hole through my lungs by now. I try to hold onto my will for as long as I can, I really do, but the pressure of his weight on my back, plus the possible rash I’ll get my rubbing my face on the carpet are enough to make me cave in. "Okay, okay! I'll go to the stupid party, now get off!"

  Alex cheers at his victory and pulls away. I’m thankful for the sudden relief my lungs have after his weight is gone. I rolled over and groaned at the pain in the center of my back. Alex crowds over me and offers me his hand, helping me up to my feet. I sit on my bed, placing my hands on my thighs and take deep breaths. Now I have to go to this stupid party where I’m sure I’ll be bailed on, what can be possibly worse than this?

  “Why me?” I ask in defeat.

  "Dude." Matthew pats my shoulder and sighs heavily. "You really need a girlfriend."

  I snort at the idea and lay back with my head hanging off the side of the bed. "The last girlfriend I had broke up with me because I was more into music than her, remember that?"

  Alex comes into my line of vision again with his arms crossed. "That's because you went out with Juliana Stevenson, the attention freak. The girl who lied in front of the teacher saying she had diabetes type two when we all knew it was just BS." That's true. That girl did say some pretty stupid lies. "It's going to be fun, Leila is taking her new roommate."

  "Oh, yeah, isn't that the bookworm Jessie told me about?" Matth
ew asked.

  Leila Garcia and Jessica Mitchell are the girls these two are crazy about. They're beautiful, but not my type. Leila - Alex's girlfriend - is a tall redhead with a supermodel body that has half the football team drooling all over her. I'm still a little confused on how she end up with my brother because aside from being breathtakingly beautiful, the girl is outstandingly smart. Jessie - Matthew's girlfriend and Leila's best friend/roommate - is more of a girly type with a new outfit every day, never wears an outfit twice and designer bags that probably cost more than my college tuition. The only problem is that she's too girly, certainly not my type.

  Now that I think about it, I don't think I like any of the girls in this college or have a type. Some asked me out before, but I've always said no because I'm certainly not looking for a relationship right now and every girl here seems like their clothing is shrinking by the second. I don't need that in my life right now, I'm more concentrated on getting my audition.

  "Do I really have to go?" I ask, taking them out of their conversation.

  Alex and Matthew look at each other, back at me and nod at the same time.

  "Yes," Alex said, as a matter of fact. "Yes, you do and if you don't, I'll personally break that guitar on your head, little brother."

  I roll my eyes. "You're only older by ten minutes, not so damn little."

  People have a hard time believing us when we say we're twins because we're the exact opposite. Alex is big, built, blonde-ish hair and hazel eyes and I am tall, a little built, bronze hair and hazel eyes. I do have a theory that perhaps someone switched me at birth and my real twin is somewhere in Europe.

  The next day I head to my first-period Advanced Composition. Today we are getting the results for the demo Mrs. Garner asked us to do. I worked on that demo for an entire month. I put my heart, sweat and tears on that damn thing so I'm really looking forward to seeing my grade.

  Mrs. Garner passed the demos back in silence. This is probably the most serious class I’ve ever been a part of, Mrs. Garner is not one to joke with. I waited not so patiently for my name to be called by her, but I wasn't called out until the end, which is odd because I'm always one of the firsts.

  "Aidan Callahan," Mrs. Garner calls out my name.

  Finally, I get up instantly, making more noise than necessary and making my fellow classmates stare at me as I walk to Mrs. Garner’s desk, who looked at me over her half-moon glasses.

  "Here you go," she said, handing me my demo. I take it muttering a "thank you" under my breath and walk back to my seat.

  I take it out of the envelope and read the sticky note. A Plus. Yes! My body jerks on my seat as I fail to try to hide my excitement. That red A Plus just made my day! I look over at Mrs. Garner who walks around her desk and looks at us without saying a word. She doesn't look impressed. It's really hard to impress a woman like her with years of experience, but she must have been impressed with my demo. It's not usual when she gives an A-Plus, only when we have exceeded her expectations.

  "I see you all worked hard on these demos," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes scanning through every person in the room. "I have to say, this class has the best out of all my eight Advanced Composition classes. You all got A's, B's, but only one of you got an A Plus and that, students, it's true talent."

  Her eyes land on me and her lips twitch with a smile. She smiles? She never smiles. I nod in thank you and her smile disappears. That's a shame, she really does have a nice smile. I wonder why a married woman that’s obviously pretty would not smile at all. Or maybe she does whenever she’s not at school, we can be assholes sometimes.

  True talent... So she thinks I do have a talent? That has to be a good sign, isn't it? I've worked hard to earn this A Plus. I bet Mom will be over the moon when I tell her.

  Mrs. Garner calls me up to her desk right when the bell rings at the end of her class. She waits until everyone has left the room to talk.

  "Are you happy with your grade, Aidan?" She asked without looking at me. Instead, she reads the papers on her desk.

  "Yes, Ma'am, thank you so much."

  "Do not call me Ma'am," she said, placing the papers down.

  "Yes, Ma’a-I mean, Sir! I mean, Mrs. Garner." Seriously, what's with the Ma'am? I shake my head and give Mrs. Garner - aka not a Ma'am - an apologetic smile.

  She leans back on her chair and takes her glasses off. She looks deep in thought like she’s trying hard to figure me out. "Can I ask you what inspired these songs, Aidan? A girlfriend? A first love? Anything?”

  That’s an odd question.

  "No, it all just came right out." I smile proudly. I’ve never needed an inspiration to write music, it just happens.

  She nods, thoughtfully. "Well, that's unusual. Everyone wrote a short essay saying what inspired them for extra credit and you say it just came out. Yours was the best of the class, Aidan. I have to say you really did impress me."

  "Thank you." I smile widely.

  "Are you auditioning for the Annual Orchestra Foundation?" She asked.

  The Annual Orchestra Foundation, a place where they raise money to give instruments to those schools who can't afford them and where the winners get an opportunity to play in Chicago at their music stadium in front of five hundred people or more. Few students get jobs after that performance and live their life's flying across the world playing at major stadiums, earning loads of money and recognition. I've been practicing for this the entire school year since Mr. Garner mentioned it.

  "Yes, I am."

  "Then I'll see you there. You can leave now." She dismisses me quickly, grabbing the papers on her desk again and starts reading.

  I start walking to the door, but her voice stops me. "Aidan!"

  I turn around. She's still sitting on her desk with the paper in her hands. She looks at me and says, "You have a great talent. Don't take for granted the opportunities it gives you, okay?"

  Of course, I wouldn't. Never. That's one of the many things my mother taught me. "I won't, Mrs. Garner."

  And then, I just walked out of her classroom, holding in hand the proof that I can make it to the Annual Orchestra Foundation.

  Chapter Two

  Aidan

  My classes were almost over for the day, thank God. I'm hungry and tired, and I feel like I could really use a shower. It's been a rather very humid day today.

  I walk in the rehearsal room - my last class - to find it empty. I look back to the door to see if there's a note or something I missed when I walked in, but there is nothing. There certainly wasn’t an email this morning.

  "Oh, Aidan, sorry for the short notice, but today there will be no class," Mr. Garner, my orchestra teacher, said from his desk where he's closing his briefcase.

  Goddamn, I would have just walked straight to my dorm to take a shower, I thought. Maybe I could use the rest of the school day to practice.

  "Oh, okay. Is it okay if I stay and practice for a while?" I ask, pulling my backpack over my shoulder.

  Mr. Garner smiles, much unlike his wife. "Of course, just make sure you lock the door before leaving." He walked toward me. "Mrs. Garner told me about the demo. She was fairly surprised."

  Fairly? She gave me an A-Plus, how's that for surprised? Well, I'm not that cocky to say that to his face, but I am a little cocky in my mind to think about it. Good thing it's the only other private place I have to keep it to myself.

  "Thank you. Did she show you the demo?" I ask.

  He chuckles and shakes his head. "Aidan, you forget that I'm your orchestra teacher, I've listened to you rehearse it. We're looking forward to seeing you at the audition." With that said, he walked out of the rehearsal room and closed the door behind him.

  He has no idea how much I'm looking forward to that day, too. Once I'm completely alone in the rehearsal room I drop my backpack next to the piano, take the notes out of my binder and begin practicing.

  * * *

  "I do believe this is the time I kick you out." The voice of Jack, t
he security guard, interrupts me. I stop playing and look at the clock. It's seven, the building closes at seven-thirty. "Go back to your dorm," he chuckled.

  I’m surprised the day went by pretty fast. I still have more to practice. Beethoven is in fact the greatest composer that has ever existed. I put my notes away and take my backpack.

  "Have a good night, Jack," I said. I make sure to lock the door and close it behind me before I leave. Jack is already used to seeing me stay hours and hours practicing in the rehearsal room until the building closed, so this was pretty much routine for us.

  "Have a good weekend, Aidan," he said, walking the opposite direction I was.

  I wish I did. The party is tomorrow and not only hasn’t Alex stopped reminding me that I'm going to that damn party, but also has been threatening me that if I don't, I wouldn't see the light of day again.

  It's a cool winter night here in Washington. The good thing was that we're about to enter the spring season and all this cold weather will be over. I walk past some of my classmates having a wrestling contest, asking me to join. No, thank you. Alex messaged me a while ago saying he'll be to the dorm late and if we could cover for him. I rolled my eyes at his message. He knows we're not allowed out of the dorms after nine.

  I walk in my dorm only to find Matthew and Jessie in the middle of a make-out session. I don't know if I should walk out or walk in and ignore them, both are just as awkward. When I walked in Jessie screams, covering her face and Matthew laughs and sits up on his bed.

  "Sup, Aidan," Matthew chuckles.

  "Hey, Aidan." Jessie hides her blush with both of her hands.

  "Hey," I said as I made my way to my bed. I sit down, take my guitar and start playing, ignoring the weird looks they are giving me.

  The room falls silent for a couple of minutes, except for the sound of me playing on my guitar. I don’t want to seem rude and make them leave the dorm, so I occasionally smile at Jessie just in case. Jessie is the first one to talk after five minutes.