9 | Music

...It's long af again

* * *

He ran. Ran from the person who didn't have to, but comforted him and made him feel better. From the person whose eyes held genuine concern. From the person whose hands clenched at the mention of worthlessness. From the person who he barely knew, but poured his heart out to.

He didn't know what to do. Besides being introverted and down, his mind didn't let him think straight. He had never done such a thing - talk, no, ramble to someone whom he barely knew, and then mutter something under his breath and run. No, that wasn't something Sam did at all, he didn't know what had possessed him to act that way in front of Charles.

By the time he reached his house, he was scared out of his guts. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and tickled his eyes. He didn't know if he was sweating because he was nervous and scared or because he was running as though his life depended on it. His mom would be eagerly waiting for him to show his marks - the marks of the test he'd worked so hard on, the one test that he'd been really confident and happy about.

Before tears could take over him, he decided it was better to get it over with and slowly opened the magenta colored gates of his house. He stepped inside, taking his own sweet time to remove his shoes and socks and place them neatly on the shoe rack. Making no noise, he went in to see that his mom was fast asleep on the couch. He decided it was best if he didn't wake her up and quickly went to his room to change into comfortable pants. The hoodie can stay since it was his favorite. Whilst changing, he heard a knock.

"You're home, Sammy?"

It was his sister.

"Yeah, I am."

"Okay," she said, stifling a laugh, "mom said she heard some noise and decided to keep quiet and see what 'the thief' was up to." Hearing that, he himself couldn't help but laugh softly despite being a ball of nerves. His mom really was something else.

In seconds, he changed and was opening his door. He was met with his mother's expectant eyes, clearly wanting to know Sam's marks. He'd started fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie yet again. He suddenly wished June was here to hold his hand while he talked to his mom. Alas, that wasn't the case as June was nowhere to be seen the whole day.

"So...?" his mom started off.

Sam shamefully went back to his room, dug his bag and took out his answer sheet to hand it over to his mother. He was scared. Genuinely scared of what she'd say. He was prepared for the "You need to stop disappointing me," the "No one's gonna look at your face with these marks, you're gonna get walked all over" and, of course, the "Marks define you. They define and determine your future."

He only started at the floor while his mom went through the whole paper. He was sure of the look of disappointment and disapproval on her face without even seeing it, and he could imagine a hundred ways of how his day would become just like the dozen others he's experienced.

For what seemed like a good five minutes, Sam stared at the floor, suddenly noticing the way the tiles seemed to have gotten really beautiful, the way the patterns on the marble somehow matched and created a pattern with the others, how-

Interrupting his thoughts, he heard a loud sigh, which unmistakably came from his mother. He dared to look up, look at his mom's face. By this time, he'd already shed as many tears possible so he knew he wouldn't start crying. He was too tired. Tired of crying, tired of being a disappointment, tired of everything.

"It's okay, Sam. I know you studied a lot for this, and I can see that you're losing marks at all the silly places like not mentioning the proper keywords. You need to improve a lot, but I think if you continue to put the effort you did for this test, it will definitely pay off. Anyways, uh..." his mom thought for a second and proceeded to say, "do better. That's all I can say."

After saying that, she carefully placed the paper in Sam's hands and went back to the show she was watching, whereas Sam could only stare. Stare into space, into nothingness. This was completely not what he'd expected; he was fully prepared to drown in self pity and worthlessness and was ready to be hurt by the harsh but true words that would come out of his mother's mouth. He was really not expecting her to say what she did.

Kat saw him there and whispered, "You look really crazy now, you know that, right?"

He snapped out of his daze, closing his mouth which he didn't know had been open the whole time.

"I-I know. I'm going in..." he said, shutting his door.

"If you continue to put the effort you did for this test, it will definitely pay off."

Right. He had to concentrate more, work harder and had to be more serious. A sudden wave of motivation washed over him as he raced towards his desk and pulled out his books. He was weak at studies, but that can be changed. He can work harder and would be able to do better. Even if academics was not his whole life, even if it didn't literally define him or determine his future, he knew it was an important part of his life. He didn't want to be uneducated and dumb. It was time for him to gear up and actually do something about it.

And so he did. He planned on sticking to studying everyday starting from then. His life was totally going to change.

* * *

After about half an hour, Sam decided that he'd take a break. He didn't decide how long, but just a small break would do. Little did he know that that "small" break would last more than hour and a half. It was close to 7pm, and Sam had still not kept his phone down as he'd been watching "Deep shower thoughts tik toks" on YouTube.

Soon, he heard a knock on his front door and that brought him back to his senses. His father was home. He frantically walked across his room, abandoning his phone on the bed and got his answer sheet and mind ready for what was to come. Stupid, I'm so stupid!! I was supposed to be studying!

His mother's reaction was very unexpected, and a part of him hoped his father would react the same way, too. But on pondering over the thought, he decided that no, scolding him would be better. He didn't deserve their kindness. No, he definitely didn't deserve all the kind words his dad would say to him as all he did was take advantage of it.

Telling his mind to "kindly shut the hell up," he opened his door and walked into his living room, where he saw his dad tiredly sitting on the couch with his shirt tucked out of his pants.

His heart clenched at the sight. He wasn't stressing out too much, was he? he thought, worry taking over his anxiety. His dad tended to overwork himself a lot, to the point where he once suffered from a strong migraine. Sam being sick was one kind of a pain, but his parents being sick was a whole other kind, one that included helplessness and fear.

He felt horrible that his dad, after being so drained out due to work, had to then look at his son's awful excuse of an exam paper.

"Get me some water, will you?" he heard his dad call out to his mom, who quickly grabbed a glass and started filling it with water.

"People at work are literally driving me insane. Six projects due in a little more than a month? What do they think I am, some sort of a project-making machine?" his dad exclaimed, clearly exhausted. Sam's brain yelled at him not to show his dad the paper, but he couldn't hide it forever. He had to return the papers with the signature of his parents the next day; there wasn't much he could do.

Slowly, he went towards the couch and stood in front of his dad who was gulping down a glass of water.

"Um I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I promise I'll do better next time, I'm just- I know you don't want to listen to me and look at my sorry excuse of a paper after a busy da-"

"Hey, hey, slow down. What are you even talking about? Sorry excuse of a paper?"

Sam shamefully held the paper towards his dad who got a quick look at it and looked at him with an expression that he couldn't quite make out.

"It's okay, Sam," he said, his eyes starting to smile. He loved how it was always his eyes that started to smile first before his mouth, that was a feature he had, too.

"I hope you aren't stressing out like me now. I realized that it's not all worth it. So what if you scored a 60? Next time you'll do better, I'm sure. Won't you?"

Sam wanted to break down right then and there. Sit on the floor and bawl like an infant. He was shocked enough to see his mother's reaction. And now his dad was sitting there, smiling up at him - a smile he knew was enough to break him apart.

No. No, this isn't right. I disappointed him. Why isn't he showing it? Why is he looking at me with a caring, loving expression when I've done something that should draw the exact opposite reaction?

Before he knew it, he started tearing up yet again. If there was one thing he hated, it was crying in front of people. He absolutely despised the idea of someone watching him being in his most vulnerable state possible. Times like this, when he slipped, he wanted nothing more than to just hide in a corner and be miserable his whole life. Not that he ready wasn't. He thought he knew the things he deserved. People, especially his parents, going so easy on him when he disappointed them - that was something he knew he didn't.

Before he could start legitimately crying, though, his dad said, "Don't be so worked up and sad, Sam. It's okay to slip and be horrible, it's a part of learning. You're learning, right?"

That drew a quick nod from Sam. Yes, he was learning. Quite a lot of things.

"That's enough. Now focus on doing better. As long as you don't make the same mistake of doing things for the sake of doing it, you're good. Heard me?"

"Y-yeah," he stuttered.

"I will do my best. I need to stop being a disappointment," he added, which came out as a whisper. He saw his father take out a pen to sign the sheet. He curled his toes as the urge to cry almost took over him. Once the paper was in his hands, he ran to his room, shutting the door. He slid down to the cold tiles of his floor, his head hot and heart tight, as bitter, bitter tears poured down his face.

Mom, dad, June... and Charles... I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such a screw up.

* * *

He ate dinner with a heavy heart and little appetite. Once he was done, he tried calling June to ask him if he was alright. They both never went a day without talking to each other and June never ignored his calls. He let out a big, shaky sigh when his call wasn't answered. With the feeling of worry, worthlessness and loneliness all coming at him at the same time, he decided to just sleep. He was too tired to do anything else.

That being said, he plopped down on his bed, taking in his own scent for sometime. He got up and faced the ceiling once he realized he was suffocating and buried himself under his soft covers instead. Since it was a long, tear-filled day for him and his brain, he quickly slipped into slumber.

* * *

Samuel heard voices.

"What a screw-up," someone said.

"Dude, have you seen his thighs? They're huuuuuuuuge!" another exclaimed.

"Look at him, acting all caring and selfless. Probably has nothing to do with his life but kiss up to others' asses," he heard his physics partner, Julie, express.

"He's so weird, either he's daydreaming all the time, or he's a crying mess in the washroom," he heard another one say.

And then he saw June. June, his best friend. The person who'd been with him through heaven and hell, someone who he loved more than anything in the world. Sam saw him as he turned his back, shaking his head slowly as he went over to Charles, who didn't even bat an eye at him. He saw helplessly as they both walked side by side, leaving Sam and his heart to break into a hundred pieces with dolor.

"I'm trying. I'm sorry," he wanted to say to those people, "I'm sorry for being the way I am. I'm trying to change. Please, give me a chance, please..." he wanted to beg, the last part clearly addressed to June. He never turned his back on Sam. Never.

"Look at his clothes. So ugly."

"I pity him."

"He's almost invisible, I forgot he even existed."

"He failed again, haha."

"See his nose, isn't it so big? It looks so-"

Shut up!! Shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up-!

Sam woke up with a start. His forehead and back were moist with sweat. He reached up to wipe his face and realized that he'd been crying, too. He didn't know if he'd screamed, didn't know if anyone had heard him if he did.

That was a dream, he coaxed himself, just a dream.

He'd never felt as lonely as he did at that moment. No one to assure him that he wasn't miserable. That's because I am. No one to calm him down. I don't deserve it. No one to hold him while he cried. I created this life for myself.

He missed June so much, missed his presence, his warm and fuzzy bear hugs, his comforting voice, his big hands, his reassuring words and just - him.

He looked for his phone. He plugged in his earphones and played his favorite song. No matter what, music was there for him. It always will be.

Slowly, due to the melancholic yet calm melody, he fell asleep, this time it being a dreamless one.

It all passes

Someday

For sure

Certainly

Just like the night leaves and the morning comes,

The spring leaves and summer comes

Just like the flower wilts and the fruit grows ripe,

Everything needs to go through pain

- Everythingoes, RM

* * *

yea I'm totally not crying while listening to this masterpiece of a song, yall who sleep on this deserve to rot in the pits of tartarus