Chapter Three

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October 15, 2017

Forks clashing against plates was the only sound surfacing in the kitchen. Maeve looked across the dinner table at her parents who ate silently, their heads down.

As soon as she had finished the interview with David, she knew that if she did decide to go forward with the tech position, she would then have to convince her parents, and that would be no easy feat.

Nicholas and Jenna Orland birthed a seemingly perfect first child. Kendra Orland grew to be everything they wished her to be, and more. She exceeded their every expectation, involved in sports such as volleyball and soccer as a star athlete, received flawless grades for every assignment and project throughout her school years, and graduated at the top of her class. She was their faultless victory who never disobeyed or disagreed with them, beautiful, loved by all, and they were pleased with the way she ran an organized lifestyle.

Maeve, however, was not her sister. She did not play sports; she'd tried in the past, but discovered she enjoyed working out alone instead. She was not top of her class, though she worked hard. Grades simply didn't come as easily to her as they had to her sister. She studied and she finished everything she was assigned, but it was hardly ever perfect. In everything she did, she missed the mark of expectations that had been set by Kendra, and in the way her parents spoke to her, their disapproval was clear.

Their largest disappointment in her, however, was her job.

Kendra had made them proud—Jenna in her position as a Nurse Practitioner and Nicholas as a strict businessman for a law firm in Virginia—when she decided that after two years of traveling the world following graduating highschool, she would return to work towards becoming an Orthopaedic Surgeon. Unlike the careers that held the highest positions and pay, Maeve wanted nothing more than to be apart of the world that thrived behind the scenes, running plays and musicals, and now, possibly touring shows.

Despite everything, Maeve knew her parents loved her. They were extremely hard on her and had different intentions in mind for her life, but they loved her. Their careers had made them tough, hesitant in showing affection because their first daughter hadn't needed it. She had been strong enough on her own, smart enough to succeed without fail.

After years of constantly being told she was always doing something wrong, Maeve hungered to be told she was doing something right. She couldn't help herself; she wanted her parents approval, she wanted them to look at her the same way they looked at her older sister.

Her parents did not approve of her job, and now she was faced with convincing them to allow her to accept a position that would take her out of their grasps in the middle of her junior year.

"I've received a job offer," she spoke up, working to make her voice firm and enunciated. Her father had always been bothered by mumbling.

He looked up from his plate, still chewing. She fought down the accusations that immediately flooded her mind since he rarely showed interest in conversation unless it was about work, school, or her future career.

"Yes?" he prompted once he swallowed. She plunged into what she'd been worrying about saying since the evening before.

"Mom," she said, casting her eyes to her figure, "you remember Corbyn Besson, right?"

Jenna had attended the Peter Pan performance years before. Though she wasn't fond of the idea of theater for her daughter, she still showed while Nicholas did not, involved in a late night at the office.

"Yes, I remember him," she responded.

"Well, he's in a band. A band of musicians that have become very popular this past year. They've already gone on a country-wide tour and they're going on another early next year."

Nicholas sat back in his chair slowly, obviously wary of the conversation's direction.

"Word was put in with their manager, David Loeffler, of my work at Wintergrove. My accomplishments," she added in a quieter voice, acutely aware of the fact that they, her father especially, did not share the same view.

"He got in touch with me, and I had an interview with him yesterday over the phone. He said that though I'm younger than he was expecting to hire, I have what it takes. The tech position for the upcoming tour is mine if I'd like it."

Something flashed in her father's eyes as he stared at her blankly, his chin lifting slightly. Her mother just stared at her, fork down, food momentarily forgotten.

"And last night," she continued, "I decided I want to go through with it. I'll keep up with my schoolwork, though I'll have to do it online. I'm prepared to put the work in, to do what it takes because... well, this is what I want to do with the rest of my life. Now, all I need is your consent."

Her mind was silenced, apprehension clouding everything within her. She'd made her case, and all she could do was wait.

She watched as her father's jaw ticked. He was still watching her, eyes stuck in an unreadable thought process. She glanced at her mother, who was just as difficult to understand.

Finally, after a period of silence that was far too lengthy for her liking, her father exhaled quite loudly and sat forward, shaking his head.

"I do not want to allow it. You cannot drop out of highschool to chase this kind of career; it's... wasteful of your potential. Worthless."

Maeve bit back her instinct to protest, instead deciding to counter.

"I would not be dropping out of highschool, I'd continue online. I will graduate, just not in the traditional way."

Her father shook his head again, eyes on the table.

"It's not the same," he said, and Maeve knew the problem was rooted in the fact that she wouldn't be following in the steps of her sister.

She sat up straighter, sick of his intolerance of what she wanted to do with her own life.

"Look, I know it's not ideal, but this opportunity that you view as worthless will change my life. It'll open new doors in the future that can't be opened at a local theater in Fairfax, Virginia. You're always talking about pursuing a career that will support me. This is it."

Her father's expression remained emotionless. Maeve's heart sunk in her chest, knowing he had yet to be convinced.

She let out a light, humorless laugh, lifting both hands in a display of mild exasperation.

"I'm not Kendra."

Jenna's eyebrows furrowed together slightly as she listened to her daughter. Nicholas sat back again, both of his wrists resting on the table.

"I'm not Kendra," Maeve repeated with a shake of her head. "I'm sorry if I disappoint you, or if I'm a failure of a child in your eyes, but this is what I want. I'm sorry that I don't desire to be a doctor or a lawyer or a business woman, but tech is my life. The soundbooth, mics, lights, the stage, that's all I want and... if that's not good enough for you, I'm sorry, but I don't really care. I want this tour. And for that, I need your consent."

When she finished, her tone was unwavering.

Her father stared at her for a bit longer before turning to his wife, an entire conversation passing between their gaze.

Finally, he turned back to his plate, picking up his fork, his gruff voice disrupting the silence of the room.

"You have our consent."

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