Wyatt, Part II

Up until last night, Wyatt's toughest challenge had been asking a girl on a date. He remembered being enamored by Serena last year. With her being the manager of Spin This and entering her senior year, her power reduced him to a helpless puddle. She had the world at her fingertips. Luckily, his friends reminded him of his own power, encouraging him to go after her. His parents initially liked her. However, his mother confessed to sensing something off about her after their breakup.

After Serena ripped his heart to shreds, he stumbled like a fawn on shaky legs when pursuing Marlowe for the first time. Nonetheless, he salvaged his heart's tattered remains and handed them to her. She mended them so well that his heart looked whole again.

Too bad it fell apart once more last night.

That's how he learned that heartbreak happened in many forms. Everyone romanticized romantic heartbreak, but no one discussed the familial kind. It hurt far worse, especially when he had to tend to himself and nurse a dream dying from bullet wounds.

He couldn't do it all by himself, or, at least, not without a cup of coffee. He took the bus to the mall, seeing that he didn't want the guilt of driving his dad's car around. He didn't even have work today. He just needed to flee the house.

Coffee remained a constant in his life, but today it became an absolute necessity. He knew he relied on it to function like Jude relied on weed. He'd heard the arguments against caffeine, both from news articles and from his mother. He'd tried to scale back on it before. He wanted to like black tea and green tea, but they paled in comparison to his daily joe.

He refused to let go of his caffeine crutch. Without it, he'd crash and stumble his way through life. (Not to mention, he'd be a lot grumpier towards his loved ones. Caffeinated Wyatt equaled Compassionate Wyatt.)

He approached Grind Me, anticipating his first cup of the day. As the coffee grinds wafted through the air and into his nostrils, he salivated. Something about his reaction seemed quite Pavlovian.

Gotta love AP Psych, he quipped.

Whether he'd been trained to react to the aroma of coffee or not throughout two years of addiction, he couldn't help nearly drooling when he stood so close to the doors. He inched closer and closer to heaven until—

"Wyatt!" the voice of a true schmoozer greeted.

He sighed and turned around. "What do you want, Jonesy?"

"Hey, that's no way to greet a friend."

Wyatt didn't change his tone, nor his unamused expression. "Again: What do you want, Jonesy?"

"How did you know I wanted something? I could've just been trying to tell you hi."

He crossed his arms.

"Okay, fine: I wanted to see if you were interested in collabing with an up-and-coming rapper for your talent show gig." Jonesy waggled his brows at the end of his sentence.

"Nikki told me to not let you on any of my tracks." He then mumbled, "Not like I would anyways."

"Dammit. Well, can I at least be your manager or something?"

"You do realize the last time you played manager you sold my stuff as merch, took the money, and flirted with half the girls who liked my music, right?"

Jonesy wore a deadpan expression. "Stop bringing up the past, dude."

Wyatt mirrored his look. "This was last summer."

"AKA the past. Listen, I'll split the profit with you 60-40. And I can guarantee that I'm not gonna flirt with any chicks since I got Nikki."

"Wow, an offer I can't refuse."

"Man, you're bitter before your brew."

"Isn't it unwise to insult a potential client before you land them?"

He wagged his eyebrows again. "So you're considering it."

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Yep."

Wyat let out a deep sigh. "You sure have a knack for wearing people down."

"What are you—my girlfriend?"

"No, but I have an idea of how you wooed her into submission." He grimaced. "Anyways, mind if I'm by myself for a bit? I've got a lot on my mind."

"You need to talk or something? 'Cause, I mean, I'm here for you. I just coached Jude through some shit anyways."

"Oh, dang. Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine. He's just confused about some stuff."

"Oh. Well, either way, I'll be okay. I just need a coffee and some time to think alone."

"Okay. Take it easy, buddy."

"Thanks, Jonesy."

"No prob. See ya when I see ya."

Finally, Wyatt thought once Jonesy left. In no way did he hate Jonesy—in fact, Wyatt loved him like an annoying younger brother—but he could only take him in small doses before a cup of coffee. He felt bad that his patience ran thin before he got his drink, but, with everything on his mind, he could only deal with so much.

After all, life had never thrown him anything this challenging before. Girls, gym, and AP courses couldn't compare to the severity of this issue.

He cursed his creative inclinations. He excelled at math. In the seventh grade, he taught himself how to code in Python after a teacher encouraged his affinity for logic. He soon moved onto learning Java on his own. Every now and then, he programmed little applets in his spare time. He planned on taking computer science as his senior-year elective. However, he only liked all of that as a hobby.

He loved to flex the logical side of his brain, but his heart yearned for the creative. He slept, ate, and bled music. When he mastered "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star," he knew that his longest relationship would be with his guitar.

His mother told him that, as an infant, he'd babble in the backseat to Stevie Wonder. His aunt gifted him a guitar at the age of five, something he never put down. When his parents couldn't afford lessons because of Whitney's college tuition, he took it upon himself to learn basic music theory concepts and how to read sheet music. By the end of junior year, he'd saved up enough money to buy some new equipment for the makeshift studio in his room. Everything he did, he did it with a sense of professionalism, but music was the only profession he sought after. How could his parents not understand that?

...How could he almost forget the talent show? It didn't even cross his mind until Jonesy mentioned it. In fact, Jonesy had been the one to inform him about it earlier in the summer when he'd passed out the flyers for it. However, instead of being held at the mall as scheduled, the venue had changed to a music hall across the city.

He didn't know if he even wanted to participate anymore, given that his passion for music had suddenly become a stress.

But he already wrote and recorded a rough demo of the song he wanted to perform, and he already invited his friends, girlfriend, and family to watch him perform it on Sunday.

He facepalmed himself and groaned as he walked into Grind Me.

Oh, he felt screwed.

His hand trembled with increasing desperation.

If he didn't get that damn coffee, he'd collapse.

"Wyatt?" a familiar, feminine voice asked behind him.

Oh, come on, he thought before turning around.

"Serena, hey. Um, what's up?"

"Nothing much. Just came to get a latte." She looked at with more intent. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I…" he said, debating whether he should lie or not. "I'm just going through a lot, to be honest."

"Do you wanna sit and talk about it? I've got time."

I guess life can't get any worse.

"Sure. Let's just order our drinks first," he said.

"Wyatt, I'm so sorry your parents are putting you through that," Serena said, holding her latte in one hand and placing other one on the table, physically extending her sympathy to him. "You deserve so much better."

Wyatt gave her a solemn nod.

"If it makes you feel any better, my mom's not crazy about me going into public health."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She wants me to 'go all the way' and do bio pre-med, but I don't want to go that route."

"Is she still paying for you to go to school, though?" he asked.

She averted her eyes. "Yeah. She prefers me having a degree instead of nothing at all."

"Sounds like your mom's at least trying to be reasonable."

"Yeah. And that's how your parents should be. I mean, you're just so talented and hard-working."

"You really think so?"

"Of course. Your hustle's always been impressive, Wyatt. Don't ever stop it. Combine that with your kindness, and you're gonna go far. No one can stop what's meant for you, even your parents. Even if it hurts a little."

He gave her a half-smile. All of this reminded him of why he ever liked her. She could be so caring and nurturing. Her good side had returned.

"Thanks, Serena. You know, this talk was… refreshing."

"Anytime. I'm always gonna be in your corner." Her smile drooped as her face settled into morose. "And, listen, I'm sorry about how I acted when summer started. I was just… vulnerable and stupid and—honestly—immature. I hope you can forgive me."

He nodded. "I do. We all do dumb stuff sometimes."

She chuckled. "We definitely do. So, so you wanna do this again sometime? Maybe we can grab lunch sometime after your competition."

"Sure. I'd like that."

Even though Serena's words reassured him, Wyatt remained uneasy. After all, Serena lived with a parent who still accepted her aspirations. She didn't understand his parents, their views, and the household he grew up in.

But, as his phone buzzed with two new messages, he knew who did.

He tapped the notification, opening his one-on-one conversation with Willow. He'd gotten messages of support all day from his sisters in their group chat. Their sentiments varied, but they all shared the same underlying reminder: "We've got you if you need us."

Despite Whitney's distance or Wynter's wedding planning or Willow's grind, they still provided support for him. It made his heart smile.

So did Willow's texts.

God, mama's such a drama queen lmao. You could be a murderer as long as you got yo stem degree and an island ting, but God forbid you wanna do music and date a white girl. Then all hell breaks loose.

Don't tell her I said that tho

Wyatt chuckled and replied, Don't worry. What happens in the convo stays in the convo lol.

Good.

So… you busy right now? he asked.

Nah. Just went on my break. What's up?

Mind if I call you? I got a lot on my mind

I'll bet. Hmu

"So, what exactly's on your mind?" Willow asked.

"Everything." He sighed. "I just can't help but wonder if they're right and I'm just wasting my time."

"Don't you ever think that. If mom and dad had all the answers to life, don't you think they'd be doing better themselves?"

"Oof."

"I know it sounds harsh, but don't you agree with me on some level?"

"I mean, you're not wrong."

"Which fundamentally means I'm right. Seriously though—I know music's not always practical, but a lot of things are just as uncertain in life. There's no guarantee that I'm gonna be successful. There's nothing that says Wynter's wedding is gonna happen. No one knows that Whit's gonna escape that mountain of— Ooh, never mind."

"Wait, what were you gonna say?"

"Okay, don't tell her I told you this, but she's in a lot of debt."

"From what?"

"You ever notice how many labels she wears? That's not from her savings, I can tell you that. She wanted to stunt so bad that it got her in trouble."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

He reeled. He always regarded Whitney as perfect. Never gave their parents any problems. Never betrayed signs of struggle. Always held it together. Always held it down.

Perfection remained the best optical illusion of them all.

"So, yeah," Willow continued, "she's going through some stuff. But, back to you, don't give into their expectations so easy. I know it's hard, but you gotta fight for yourself."

"But I don't wanna do it at the expense of peace. It's bad enough that I haven't talked to mom and dad since last night. I don't know if I can take any much more of that."

"Well, they shouldn't have started a war then. Listen, I don't wanna put more on you then they already have, but, if you speak up, you'll be the first of us to do it. None of us have really… challenged them before."

He chuckled. "You did when you flunked your first semester."

"Okay, that's different. That challenged their wallets and faith in God." After a laugh of her own, she clarified, "I'm talking about challenging the culture of the house."

"What do you mean?"

"You know—what they expect of us. They've put so many of their own dreams on us that it's time we show them what lives we really live and wanna live."

"I mean, what's left besides Whitney having money problems and me not going into CS?"

"Remember my friend from Thanksgiving last year? Taylor?"

"Yeah. You live with her, right?"

"Uh huh. That's my girlfriend."

"Wait, what?!"

"We've been dating since junior year. Wyn—and now you—are the only ones in the fam who know."

"Oh, wow. When did you know that—you know—you liked girls?"

"Always, to be honest. That's why I always went to dances and stuff with friends. That's why you guys never saw me going on dates. I always fronted like I was too busy with track and school to go out with guys, when truthfully I've just never liked guys."

"Oh, wow. Mom and dad'll flip if they found out you aren't giving them any grands."

"I could always adopt… even though I'll probably never do it."

"So my original point stands."

"Basically."

"Okay… I know your situation's harder than mine to explain to mom and dad, but why can't you be the one to change how they see things? Why does it have to be me?"

She fell silent.

"Is it because I'm the only one still in the house with them? Is that it?"

"No. Of course not. I wanna come out to them so bad, but… baby steps. I was hoping you could tell them what you really wanna do with your life. Maybe that'll soften the blow. Then we can work our way up from there."

"Change from the bottom-up?"

"Exactly."

"But, even if I tell them that I wanna go into music, there's no way in hell they'll pay my way. They might be forced to accept it, but they'll never pay for it."

"We'll find a way."

"You know I love you, Willow, but this is a lot. This is the last thing I expected to think about."

"I'm not saying you have to go through with this. I'm just saying to think about it."

He didn't possess the traits of a revolutionary. He loved a healthy debate, but only in a controlled setting like his school's debate team, where he knew there would be no lingering consequences. However, rebelling against his parents… that spelled disaster and long-term fallout.

Why him? Why did it all have to be on him?

How could he breathe with all this new information?

One sister's debt. The other sister's secret life. Their parents' rejection of his desires. Serena opening a door he thought to be locked. A reminder of the talent show. Second thoughts about the aforementioned.

How could he lead a change when he couldn't see his way?

Deep breath.

He supposed he would figure it out in the morning.