CHAPTER TWO -- PRISM
1041 Words
“I can’t believe, you three! Why would you do that?” I asked in a whisper, controlling my rage, while a student was ruining “Fight Song” with her voice on stage.
“Because it’s fun, Chameleon.” Wes answered, chuckling.
“What fun? Fun to play a joke on me? And don’t call me that! You know I hate that nickname!” I replied, still in a hushed voice.
“Chill, Dean. We signed you up for the audition because you’re our friend.” Frigga calmingly explained, stroking my arm, and possibly refraining me from making a scene.
“Oh, right. What was I thinking? You’re right, Wes. This’ll be fun. To embarrass myself in front of what, 30 students, at best? And my Math professor. Real friend move, you guys. I so, love you.” I sarcastically retorted.
“Com’on, Dean. It’s not like that. We want to spend more time with you, y’know.” Ash said, looking at me with her “sad” face. Ugh!
“Yeah. It’s only ten months away till graduation, man. We ought to make our senior year count.” Wes added, stroking his girlfriend’s hair, probably saying, “I’m on your side, babe.” Tsk!
“Yeah, Dean. Don’t you wanna be with us anymore?” Frigga asked. I stared at Frigga’s pleading eyes (she has dog-eyes, y’know), rolled my eyes, and sighed.
“Fine.” I said. The three smiled at each other as if congratulating themselves for convincing me. Too early for celebration. I smirked and dropped the bomb, “But we don’t get to decide whether we’ll be together or not.”
They stopped smiling and they all looked at me. “What?”
I pointed them to Professor Rothgard who’s currently bored with one of the rebels and smiled smugly.
“Dude, you try to sabotage yourself, I’ll yell your nickname.” Wes threatened. I just stared at him, still smiling, and lied through my teeth, “Go ahead, I don’t care anymore. Besides, I’m kind’a liking it now. Chameleon.”
He slumped in the chair, dejected.
“Next, Hugh Taylor.”
Frigga gawked on stage, as fast as lightning upon hearing her crush’s name. I laughed secretly. Girls and their crushes. Which got me thinking…I haven’t really had a crush on anyone since I’ve been born. Nor was I ever infatuated with someone. Or sexually attracted, even with Hollywood or local stars or fictional characters…Is that normal?
“Uhm, hi. My name’s Hugh Taylor.”
Screams from different corners of the auditorium suddenly echoed.
“Quiet.” Professor Rothgard said.
“Uhm, yeah. I’ll be singing ‘The Next Right Thing’ by Kristen Bell”.
Wait. Isn’t that from “Frozen 2”? What?
“Go ahead, son.”
Earlier, before Hugh Taylor sang, screams of infatuation emanated in the auditorium. But now, his voice was met with silence of admiration. Even I, was taken. He hit the notes beautifully, even the high ones. And my, did he sound like that of an angel’s. Okay, no one ever really heard a voice of an angel, but somehow that description felt right.
“’The next right thing.’ Thank you.”
Everyone, minus myself, rose from their seats and applauded him. I was taken, but I’m not gonna let anyone know. I observed everyone, including Hugh Taylor—he was blushing from the recognition of his singing talent. And he blushed even more when Professor Rothgard commented, “I didn’t score you, son. I forgot. I thought you’re already performing.”
I completely misjudged Hugh Taylor for being one of the dolls. He has a great face and body, alright. But now that I’ve heard him, he became more than just a face and a body. Hugh Taylor left the stage, bowing in humility and happiness.
“Wow! Good luck to anyone who’ll follow that.” Frigga said, exhaling in admiration.
“Next, Dean Leon Champ.”
The three looked at me, wide-eyed, and grinning. I hesitantly stood from my seat and walked to the stage. While I was walking, there was only question that raided my mind, “What am I supposed to do once I got there?” And now that I stood in front of the auditionees, including my Math teacher, spotlight seemingly trying to blind me, I still am unsure of what to do.
“You just gonna stand there or you going to do something?” Professor Rothgard impatiently asked. I tightened my grip on the mic and glanced at my so-called friends. They were saying something at me. I squinted to see clearer but I couldn’t make out what they were telling.
I exhaled because the nervousness is getting to me. Damn friends of mine!
“Anything at all, son. You can sing or dance or recite a line from a movie…heck, you can even sleep if you want to. Just do something.”
Recite a line from a movie? That reminds me…
“Uh…I do know poetry.” I foolishly squeaked. I do know poetry?! What the!
I heard faint laughs from the audience seats and some jeers.
“Quiet.” Professor Rothgard once again commanded. He looked at me, smiled and nodded.
I gulped.
“Uhm…t-this is an original. The title is ‘Prism’.
The light refracted
Split in seven ways.
They say it’s a rainbow.
But I couldn’t see how
I couldn’t see why.
I asked them what colors
They looked at me as if
I am insane.
‘Can’t you tell for yourself?’
Was their snotty reply.
I answered,
‘No, that is why I’m asking.’”
- Writer
