Chapter 3- Olympic Divers and Wall Ornaments

When I wake, there is a pale yellow ray of sunshine that has leaked through the gossamer white curtains, which is shining directly on my face. I groan when I feel all of my body aching from the jet-lag, and then crawl out of the soft bed.  There is a small clock on the mahogany dresser that reads 1:00 P.M.  When I get out of the bed, I take a full look at my surroundings.

                The room I am in is large, definitely bigger than the one I have back home. There are two windows facing out, one of them being the one that woke me up. I pad over to the windows and gently brush aside the curtains to see a large yard, that has little roses growing along the sides, and perfectly trimmed grass. The walls have been painted a pastel yellow, like a dying dandelion.

                There aren’t many accessories in this room besides the dresser and the bed, but there is a closet of to the side that I open but find nothing inside. I try and smoothen out the bed sheets so I won’t be so much of a pain, but I figured that the maid was getting paid to help Simon, so I don’t fix it entirely. I see that the maid has also dropped off my red suitcase and my trombone. I fling open my suitcase and find my toiletries and some clothes to wear today.

                When I come out, I find the maid vacuuming, so I ask her where I can find a bathroom to use, and she points me towards one and I thank her. When I get inside, it makes me wonder what the master bathroom looks like if this is the guest.  The walls around me are exquisitely made, and there are already a large number of shampoos, conditioners, and soaps waiting inside of the bathroom. When I step inside, the water feels amazing against my sore body and when I get out, I feel much better.

                I am about to just wrap my hair in a towel before I see an expensive hair dryer, and I test it and find that it works well, and in a few minutes, my hair is completely dry and floats around me in a silky curtain. I throw on a ragged shirt and some baggy pants, perfect for a day of lounging around, trying to cure the jet-lag disease. I almost chuckle to myself when I see what shirt I am wearing. It is my band show shirt from last year’s marching season. On the front, it reads Bearcat Band, and then below reads the year in calligraphy. On the back is the official design for our show, filled with colors and effects unique to that year.

                I am positive that there must be a rule somewhere, stating that all band nerds must own at least fifteen band-related tee shirts, which made it impossible to even think of owning a shirt that didn’t have something to do with band. As I walk around the home, getting the full inspection of the million-dollar abode, I start to hum Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Jesters, one of my favorite pieces that I have played in band, even though it was extremely repetitive. The maid looks at me strangely as I stroll by, probably wondering what teenager sings something that isn’t the latest hits.

                “Da-da-da-da-da-da-da, da-da-da,” I sing, my tongue moving furiously inside of my mouth, trying to hit the note exactly on time while I sing the trumpet solo that is near the end of the piece.

                My eyes wandered aimlessly, until I spotted a stainless-steel refrigerator, which I hope is stocked with food that I am familiar with. I whip the door open, and my eyes seem to devour the food as they are scanning it. I go for a ripe banana, to help calm my nerves. Bananas had always been my secret weapon. What most people don’t know, including most band nerds, is that bananas calm your body, which helped me immensely during auditions and whenever I knew that I would be jittery.

                I plopped down on the couch that resided in a nearby room, and flicked on the television screen, which was taller and wider than I was. Instantly, a news station flashed on and showed a few clips from the Olympics, which had ended just a few weeks before. I have gotten lucky; the news reporter seems to just have started a new topic. When I see the name Tom Daley flash down at the bottom, and his face pop up just above, I almost fist pump the air.       

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