Pretending [Milo]

[Georgina Speer]

George walked into the auditorium, two bags in hand. One full of sweets, as always, and one full of cables, CDs and other technological things. She'd done this a few times recently, so she began setting up with confidence. It had been at least a few months since... it. But she didn't understand, she didn't feel the same as she had... before. Of course, she was still all smiles and jokes and mucking around, and sometimes it was genuine, but it was losing that professional gloss. Her will to bother was dwindling.

So she found herself diving into music, like she usually did. She could play guitar and stuff, but the thing that improved the most recently was her singing. She'd been doing it so much recently, as a release. Before, she was concious about who could hear, which in itself was annoying enough. It got to the point where she found - oh look, I don't care anymore! This was probably the only aspect of her life where this was true, and she hated that.

She was ready now, though. Microphone in stand, she used a remote to get the music playing around the room. She used to sing musical songs, ironically enough in relation to the one that she had be practising recently. Now, it was rock music. But it held more force, felt like there was more emotion behind it, so it was... better. Man... the guitar in this song was bloody brilliant. She reached her cue and came in,

My life is a musical
I know how to put on a pretty pathetic show
I hide backstage
Keep the curtains closed
'Cause I'm scared, I'm scared

I'm getting pretty good at feeding them the lines they like
But I don't recognize the girl that I face each night
I can compromise till I'm convinced
It's right

This song couldn't relate any better to her current situation. She put her heart and soul into an unseen performance, head banging, and acting out, and doing it like there was a crowd watching her every moment.

What happened to the girl who could overlook the world?
She never gave a second thought to what the other people thought
What happened to the dream of rejecting the routine?
'Cause they never worked for me

I'm gonna burn this theater down and pray to God for the strength to help me face the crowd
I wanna live like I lost the script and scream every line
Like "this is it!"

[Milo Ellis]

Milo was having a pretty good day.

He had fallen out of bed that morning, tripped up down the stairs and almost choked on a Lucky Charm.

But, apart from that, he was having a pretty good day. His classes had been well behaved and pretty cooperative, apart from one or two. The great thing about Milo's power is that if a child was being annoying he could just make them shut up. Which had gotten him into a bit of trouble before, but not too much. He had taught a couple of his favourite students that day, the ones that actually listened and improved. He had also bought a whole box of Warhammer, which he was looking forward to painting. Overall, despite the bumps and bad luck, he was enjoying himself.
But then, when wasn't he?

It was almost 4 o'clock, so lessons had ended. Milo was just about to sit down and mark a bunch of assessments his class had done the previous day when he remembered he had left his phone switched on in the staff room and his ringtone was... A little embarrassing. Whenever someone sent him a text, it was a little Yoda voice saying,
"Message from the dark side, you have."
And whenever someone rang him, Peter Griffin started singing the bird song. In order to keep what shreds of dignity he still had, Milo had to recover that phone.

Soon he was walking back to his Music room, phone in hand and dignity intact, when he felt a sort of buzzing, which made his whole body sort of vibrate, which usually meant someone was playing loud music in the hall. He was passing around that area anyway, so went to investigate. 'Loud' was definitely the correct word. As he got closer, Milo started to hear the girl singing. She was a pretty good singer, even if he didn't particularly like the music. The teacher waited outside the Auditorium until she was done, and then stepped through the doors. As it turns out, he needn't of waited. The girl had been so immersed in her singing she wouldn't have noticed Milo anyway.

Milo started clapping as he came in.
"Bravo! Bravo." He applauded.
"All joking aside, that was really good. I'm Mr. Ellis." He smiled and waved. He never like introducing himself to new people, especially kids, as they usually mocked his English accent.
"Do you take lessons?"

[Georgina Speer]

George was one of those unhelpful students - when she was bored or wasn't a fan of the subject/teacher. Music was one of her good subjects, meaning she was good at it, and she usually wasn't in a bad mood for it. She generally a creative person, so she liked involving herself in all the arts. Mainly music, but art, drama and dance were all things she enjoyed quite whole-heartedly. As well as some more academic subjects - she had a sharp mind. Maths, Science and French (was French academic? Eh, whatever) were in her good books. However, history, geography... bleg. No.

Once she finished singing, George fiddled with the remote she had to stop the music playing. She wanted to sing something different now - but before she could go much further in choosing, the doors opened, showing... she was pretty certain that he was one of the music teachers. She hadn't expected an audience, but she didn't mind too much and accepted the applause. She already felt a little better, thanks to her performance. The British girl bowed a little, "Thank you, thank you, I'm here until... whenever." She said, giggling a little.

George felt a little blush warm her cheeks and she pulled down on her beanie, "Heh, thanks." She recognized the accent, her's sounding vaguely similar. She was from London after all, having spent the larger half of her life in England and not America. "I'm George. George Speer." She beamed and came forward, off the stage and towards the teacher. It just seemed... polite. Respectful. "Nice to meet you."

"No, I don't." She replied, rubbing the back of her neck, "I just... like singing. A lot." This was one of the rare times where she wasn't overloaded with constant energy. Her mind was still considering her current situation. "I'd like to, but my dedication isn't... brilliant." She admitted. Maybe she would like lessons - she'd managed with guitar, but that might've been because she did it since she was small. She couldn't remember a large amount of time where she hadn't been playing; the instrument was second nature to her now.

The Londoner considered her past thought for a second, before pointing at Mr. Ellis, "You're a music teacher, aren't you?" She inquired. This was if her memory was serving her, which it didn't always do.