The Betrothal

Chapter 4-You Can't Sit There

Chapter 4- You Can’t Sit There

As I took a bite of my sandwich, I began sketching some concept ideas for my year-end film. I started plugging my headphones on and played Taylor Swift’s Haunted. I just thought that this year, I could add a little dark touch to it, a little suspense.

Come on, come on, don’t leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Something’s gone terribly wrong

You’re all I wanted

I always took the advice of my teachers seriously. They know of my techniques in making a story, and they always told me to ditch thinking (well, not literally) and just let the words of the song pour out into the paper, and that’s what I did. I just let the rhythm and words take over.

“Bree-bree!” I heard Rickie yell. I put my headphones down and narrowed my eyes on him.

“What is so important that you had to disturb my oh-so-wonderful moment?” I asked.

He ran his hand through his wig. “Oh, nothing, actually,” he replied sarcastically. “It’s just the fact that school is about to start in twenty minutes, and we’re not moving our asses out yet.”

“Twenty minutes?” I asked. Was he for real? The Washington Building is only a three-minute walk, for Pete’s sake! “Why are you so excited to go to school?”

“I just can’t stand being in the same room with you,” he replied. I could feel myself heat up in rage, but I decided to keep it together. Don’t slap him, I mentally told myself. If you do not want another lecture, do not slap him.

“Fine, let’s go,” I said, grabbing my backpack and picking my concept drawings up.

As we left the building in silence, I saw Rickie look curiously at my concepts and then looked at me. I looked around because hey, why would he be looking at someone he truly hates right?

“What?” I asked. He pointed at my papers, which I clutched on tightly.

“May I?” he asked.

I hesitated. I mean, of course I do not want to give them to him. He is the last person I would ever trust with my concept drawings, but I had to. After all, he was going to be composing the song of the film. He needed to know what it was about.

I handed him the drawings, and he scrutinized them one by one with a very critical-looking eye. I just had to add “looking”. After all, there are some people who are good actors.

“They’re really good,” he simply said. He held out my third drawing, which was of a girl extending her hand to a silhouette of a boy, begging him to never leave her. “I like this one, most especially. I love the dark shades you made to emphasize the message of the thing.” I could feel my cheeks heat up. Wait, so he really did scrutinize it? That’s… well.

“Thanks,” I simply said, grabbing my papers from him and entering the building.

Washington Building is the only building in the campus for everyone, and I mean everyone. From boring academic classes to the fun editing suites, everything is in here. What I think is actually pretty cool about the building is that in the very middle of the building, there’s another building. It’s a building within a building. We call it the Johnson Building, where all the academic classrooms and labs are. The outer building is a space for all art to spread and be happy.

“What’s your first class, by the way?” Rickie asked.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I’m serious, Bree-bree.”